#constantly operating on an it’s so over we’re so back mentality

[mymoodwriting]

Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Drugs, Sedatives, Needles, Betrayal, Revelations, Technology, Secrets, Society Norms, Mentions of Non-Consentual Operations, Assault, Mentions of Assault, Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Depression, Vomiting, Intrusive Thoughts, Suicidal Thoughts, Minor Self-Harm, Violence, Physical Violence, Claws, Fangs, Blood, Biting, Screaming, Mental Break Down

Words: 3.5K

Chapter Seven

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @salfetkablog @youngunknownwitch @loveforred @hydroyaksha @meowmeeps @azazel-nyx @luvyev @stellasays45 @littlebaby-bunbun @bangchansgirlsblog @puppyminnnie @bahablastplz)

Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“Wakey, wakey.”

As you began to regain your senses you felt this slight pinch in your arm. You whimpered and opened your eyes, but everything was still a blur. You could tell you were back in the dorm by scent alone, and realization made you uneasy. You felt yourself lying on a couch and slowly sat up, rubbing the haziness from your eyes. Your vision cleared up and the first thing you noticed was Felix and Jisung sitting on the other couch, both of them with their heads down. Behind them Jeongin, Seungmin and Hyunjin stood, and they were watching you with blank expressions. You averted your gaze only to realize Minho and Changbin were standing behind you. Their presence made you feel rather small, and then your eyes landed on Chan sitting across from you. For a moment you just stared, but when Chan’s gaze met yours you immediately looked to the floor.

“Honestly… I’m surprised you actually did it. When I heard you wanted to run away, I thought you were just saying that, but you actually went through with it. That was quite bold of you.”

Chan reached over to grab a bag of gummies from the table. All your supplies had been laid out before you, like putting your shame on display. When you saw him grab for the gummies, you made an attempt to speak, but you never got word out.

“These aren’t laced with melatonin. They never were.”

“… what…”

You definitely weren’t all there, feeling this kind of fog in your head, so it took your mind a bit to process what Chan had said.

“… you… you pretended… you knew… all along… why… how… how did you-”

It suddenly clicked. The slow pain of realization spreading as you turned to face Felix and Jisung. Both of them refused to meet your gaze, and you could see Jisung was fidgeting. They were nervous.

“… did you… did you tell them…?” Silence was a very clear answer. “… how could… why… why-”

“Don’t be mad at them. They’re good omegas who do as their alpha says, give or take some persuasion. Afterall, I was the one who asked them to check in with you cause I knew you wouldn’t talk to any of us, so don’t blame them.”

“… then why… why couldn’t you… just let me go… just let me leave!”

“We can’t do that. It’s our job to protect you.”

“Liar!” You jumped to your feet. “You’re all liars!”

You only remained standing for a moment before you were hit with a dizzy spell. You stumbled a bit which prompted Changbin and Minho to help you sit back down. After a moment your head cleared, but it didn’t help with your current situation. Chan came over to your side, kneeling next to you.

“I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, but I need you to understand we have your best interests in mind. Back then omegas were treated awfully. They were at the bottom of society, constantly abused and hurt simply for being omegas. That wasn’t their fault, but it wasn’t right to let that go on, so the OCPD was formed. We’re here to make sure you live a good, and safe life. Trying to run away isn’t a good idea, besides, you have a chip in the back of your neck that tracks your location.”

“What!”

You immediately reached up to the back of your neck, noticing in the corner of your eye that Felix and Jisung did the same thing. They didn’t know about this either, no omega probably did. For a moment you wondered when that had been done, but then the answer came to you.

“… that dinner… when you drugged the food… is that when…”

“Yes. The chip also tracks your vitals, and while you were under doctors made sure to operate so you couldn’t get pregnant. The meds are to balance your hormones as well. Of course the procedure is reversible but-”

“Chan!” Minho yelled. “You can’t-”

“This was not meant to be some big secret. All omegas are eventually told about this, they’ll just know about it sooner than most. If things are gonna get better here we have to be honest about everything.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“… there’s more…?” You mumbled. “… what else did you do to us…?”

“It’s not about what we did, but what those monsters did a long time ago. You asked me once why the OCPD existed, and the truth is we’ve known since the beginning of the academic year.” Chan took a moment. “When omegas go into heat for the first time, the experience is so intense they block it out. It takes a few days for them to regain their memories, and they’re very vulnerable around that time. Omegas suddenly get needy and if someone indulges them it runs the risk of frying the omegas brain, leaving them with nothing but their basic instincts.” 

“… oh…”

“This has never been public information, and it never will be, but back then… there were those who knew about this, and took advantage of it. Countless omegas suffered before those that created the OCPD put a stop to it. To protect omegas they were removed from society when they became of age, before going into heat. As you know, that didn’t work so well and omegas were completely removed from society. That’s why you’re here with us now, and why we’re here to look after you.”

“… you… you expect me to believe all of that…?”

“I know it’s a lot but-”

“Alphas were the ones that hurt me! They didn’t protect me or make me feel safe! They-”

“They’re all dead for their transgressions.”

“… what…?”

“Everyone involved with what happened to you were killed. At the time of the incident they didn’t know the truth about the OCPD, so if things had been revealed then they would have only been expelled, but that wasn’t the case. At least not anymore. They knew about omegas, and thus couldn’t return to society. It’s what they deserve for hurting you.”

“I… I didn’t…”

“I know. I’m sorry things had to get to this point.”

“I… I can’t leave… can I?”

“The world isn’t any better out there for you.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve read the history books. I wouldn’t want you going through something like that. You’re ours to protect and look after.”

“I don’t want your protection.”

“But you have it.” Chan sighed. “I have to go speak to the headmaster about all this. So I’ll be back soon.”

“… what’s gonna happen?”

“I’m not sure. You could get taken by real agents, and I really don’t know what that entails.”

“I don’t wanna go off with strangers…”

“I’ll do my best. So for now you are to stay in the dorm. The others will keep an eye on you.”

Chan looked at the others before getting up, Minho following him. After a moment you stood up and Changbin grabbed your arm. You told him you just wanted to go to your room, and he escorted you there. On your way you saw Chan leaving, seeing a bunch of locks on the door. There was definitely no sneaking out again. Once you were in your room you shut the door, wanting to lock it but you realized the doorknob had been changed. You no longer had the option to lock your door, or your bathroom door for that matter. You wanted to be upset, but you didn’t have much energy.

You went over and sat on the floor, hiding behind your bed. You laid on the ground and stared at the ceiling, the tears starting to build up and blur your vision. Despite everything you had been told, the only thing that really stuck with you was the fact that you were at their mercy. You had felt like a prisoner before despite walking around freely. Now that was gone, and you could see you really were a prisoner, you had been all along. It’s just that now your cage had gotten much smaller. This room was supposed to be your safe space, but it certainly didn’t feel that way anymore. The tears started sliding down your face and you tried to keep your sobs to yourself, not wanting anyone to find you and try to comfort you. Not that they could.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the point of anything was. Things had been decided for you the second you were born, perhaps even before that. You grew up thinking you were safe, that your life was yours to live, but it had all been an illusion. You learned very early in life that everything was a lie. The smiles everyone wore were fake, yet you wanted to believe, you wanted everything to be okay, but that wasn’t true, not for you. Even the two you had trusted betrayed you, not necessarily of their own will but because you were helpless to the alphas. The stupid flaw in your very being that was used to cage you. All this was just starting to make you feel sick so you rushed to the bathroom to throw up.

Your head was still partially dizzy, and you haven’t felt fully present in a hot minute. That pinch from before had surely been some sort of sedative so you wouldn’t fight back. After vomiting you cleaned your mouth in the sink and then found yourself staring at your reflection. You looked so tired, so done with everything. The reasons you had been given to explain, to excuse all this, you didn’t care for it. You glanced down at your hands, raising them up and looking at them. You tried to summon your claws, but you had no idea how to do that, and the lack of success ultimately frustrated you.

In the end you just screamed and punched the mirror, shattering it in the process. You noticed a few cuts on your knuckles, but the sting didn’t really bother you. When you looked up you saw your broken reflection staring back. Your mind began to wander and the intrusive thoughts were getting louder. You grabbed a shard of glass, looking at yourself for a moment before holding the broken piece against your skin. You put pressure and slid it across your wrist. You saw red bloom from your injury, but it wasn’t as intense as you thought. Only a bit of blood came out, and you could see the edges of your injury starting to heal and close up. That didn’t change the pain, and how you bit down hard on your lip to keep from screaming.

“Y/n!”

The smell of blood had drawn attention, and next thing you knew Minho and Seungmin were in the bathroom with you. One of them was holding your wrist under running water, the other ripping up a towel to wrap up your injury. It was healing, they knew that, but at the moment they were just worried.

“Why would you do this?” Seungmin questioned. “There’s no-”

“You know why.” Minho cut in. “Just let it go for now. If she really meant to hurt herself she would have done more. Let me see your lip.”

Minho gently grabbed your chin and turned you to face him, seeing that your lip was already healing.

“Good. That must have hurt, huh?”

“…”

“Well, we certainly can’t leave you alone again, and I’m certain you don’t want an alpha around so the other omegas are gonna look after you. I doubt you want them in here so how about you get comfortable in the living room.”

It wasn’t really a request or suggestion, but an order. You had lost your privilege to be alone, although the omegas weren’t really better than the alphas. Chan hadn’t gotten back in the evening, but you told yourself to not worry about him, he wasn’t someone who deserved your attention. The alphas had made lunch, with Felix’s help, but you didn’t want to eat. The omegas ate in front of you, showing you nothing was wrong, but you certainly weren’t going to trust them. So instead Jeongin came over to you and handed you some chips and a bottle of water.

“They’re from the cafeteria, and not tampered with. Can you at least eat this?”

You stared at the chips for a minute before cautiously taking the bag. You examined, not sure what you were looking for, but you figured it would be okay. So you opened the bag and began eating. It wasn’t a proper meal, but it would help stave off the hunger. Jeongin smiled and set down the water bottle, leaving you with the others. For the most part you kept your back to the other two, not even wanting to see their faces, but you couldn’t really block out their scent. You just wanted things to be quiet, but of course they’d eventually try to talk.

“Y/n… we’re really sorry…” Jisung began. “When… when you told us… believe me we wanted to get out of here with you but… the alphas… Chan… he’d corner us and… his pheromones… they were never gonna let us leave but…they were messing with us to see if-”

“I know.” You mumbled. “I know… I can’t really be mad at you… it’s not your fault… but I’m still upset… or angry… or depressed… I don’t even know anymore… it’s all over anyway… I tried, and failed… they’re probably gonna pay more attention to me now… just… don’t talk to me… I can’t right now…”

“Alright…”

You sniffled, not wanting to break down and cry again, not out in the open. Time seemed to drag on but eventually the sun went down. You could hear how the dorm got quieter and quieter. Jisung and Felix eventually fell asleep but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to fall asleep and wake up still in this nightmare, it’d be too cruel. Besides, you were scared of passing out and waking up somewhere else entirely. At some point in the night you heard someone getting up and you quickly hid out of sight. You saw Minho walk past, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and going to the door. He unlocked it and let Chan in. The boy looked exhausted, but he was alive.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Minho questioned.

“The headmaster’s pissed that something like this happened. He wanted y/n transferred to an actual group of agents, but I argued that wasn’t a good idea right now. She should stay with us, at least for a while longer.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“I know we can figure something out, but we’ll talk more in the morning.”

The were heading over to their rooms when Chan stopped. Despite hiding he realized you were awake, and carefully came over until you were in view.

“You should be sleeping.”

“… can’t…”

“Hm.”

Chan looked back at Minho and told him to head to bed. The boy didn’t argue and returned to his room. Once he was gone Chan’s gaze turned to you.

“Would you mind coming with me somewhere? I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

You stared at Chan without giving a response, but he got up and walked away regardless. He went down another hall, leading more towards the empty rooms in the dorm. You watched him disappear out of sight. Curiosity was getting the best of you so you got up and followed him. It was probably a bad idea, but at the same time you wanted to know what he meant. You wound up seeing a door open at the end of the hall, peeking in to see Chan staring out the window. It was really late at night, and the crescent moon gave the room some light.

“Could you close the door? I’d say lock it but I doubt you want to do that.”

This was a bad idea, you were screaming at yourself in the back of your mind, yet you walked into the room and shut the door. You didn’t lock it, but stayed where you were. After a moment he walks up to you and stops right in front of you, slowly reaching over to your bandaged wrist.

“The boys messaged me about what you did, may I see?” You didn’t stop him from grabbing your arm and pulling back the bandage. “It’s nearly healed. That’s good, so why would you do such a thing?”

“Why bother living if my life is meaningless?”

“That’s not true. You can live a safe and full life here, which many others didn’t get to do. You can do things your way.”

“What do you want?”

Chan sighed. “Hit me.”

“What?”

“I can understand you’re upset and you must be feeling incredibly powerless. The first time something bad happened to you there was nothing you could do to help yourself. So this time you took matters into your own hands, and I’m sorry I had to interfere with that. You must be upset with me, so hit me. Let it all out, I won’t fight back.”

“… I’m not gonna…”

“I’m serious. The room’s far from the others, so they won’t hear anything. I can lock the door if you want as well.”

“…”

“Hit me. If you want to hurt someone, hurt me, not yourself.”

You weren’t into this idea, and kept your gaze away from Chan. He was still holding your arm, so he figured he’d encourage you. He rather playfully smacked your hand against his chest.

“Don’t wallow in your sadness, I don’t want you to drown it in. Come on, show me your claws, show me your fangs, tell me how you really feel.” Chan kept hitting himself with your hand. “I’m a bad alpha, aren’t I?”

“…” 

“I hurt you in a way many others won’t ever understand, or know. I’m no better than those bullies, am I? Didn’t need rope or drugs to hurt you, did I? Just being in your life-”

“Shut up!”

You yelled, freeing your arm and making a fist before hitting Chan in the chest. He took a half step back and coughed a bit, but he had a smile on his face.

“Good, keep going. Or else I’m not gonna shut up.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty just cause you’re an alpha! Cause you’re at the top of society!” You slammed both your fists down on Chan’s chest. “I thought we’d be equals here since we both lost our parents, but no!”

You let out a growl, feeling a tingling sensation at your fingertips and glancing down to see your claws. You stared for a moment, caught up in your own head before Chan’s words snapped you back to the moment.

“Alphas are still on top, aren’t we? We’re supposed to protect you cause you’re so help-”

“Shut up!” You clawed into his chest. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t broken into my room and assaulted me-”

“I did not assault you.”

“Using your pheromones is the same shit! If you would have left me alone none of this would have ever happened!”

You screamed and pounced on Chan, knocking him to the floor, your claws digging into his shoulder. You could see the discomfort on his face, but he was holding back, trying not to make a sound. You dug your claws in deeper until he groaned, his eyes flashing red for a moment as he made an attempt to get you off but you bit into his arm. This time he screamed and pulled himself free. You growled and dug your claws in deeper which caused him to go still. His breathing was a bit uneven, but he stared up at you.

“Do you hate me?”

“You ruined everything! You’re worse than the bastards who bullied me! Why aren’t you dead too! Why do you get to keep living as if you did nothing wrong!”

You pulled out your claws and swiped at Chan’s face. He winced from the initial sting but he bit his tongue. His eyes flickered red for a moment, but he shut them tight.

“Look at me you monster!”

You dug your claws into his upper arms, shaking him a bit until he opened his eyes. The color was still flickering back and forth but you didn’t care. Despite the anger and yelling, tears began to build up. Your grip loosened a bit, and your panting became louder in your ears. You felt a pain in your chest, in your heart, and then the tears started sliding down your cheeks. They were silent, and a few drops fell onto Chan’s face. The red in his eyes faded to brown, and he watched you quietly.

“… I used to be able to pretend… pretend that what happened to me was… was just bad luck… that I’d be okay someday… but then you just… why’d we have to meet that day…” You rest your head against his chest, sobbing between your words. “… I can’t play pretend anymore…”

Chan reached over with his less injured arm, gently rubbing your back. He definitely had pain all over, but his priority was you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.3 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

“No,” Brian intoned, “Such a bad idea.”

Awww, but isn't that a villain rite of passage?

(Yes, yes, I've read like 17 versions of the fic scenes where they point out it's a bad idea, all probably derived from this chapter)

“Come on,” Lisa wheedled, “It’s a rite of passage for dastardly criminals like us.”

Lisa. You're the Undersiders. Right now, you guys are anything but 'cool' and dastardly is reserved for 'cool' villains.

“Robbing a bank is moronic.  We’ve been over this,”  Brian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know what the average haul is for hitting a bank?” Lisa paused, “Twenty thou?” “Exactly.  It’s not millions like you see people getting away with in the movies.  Banks don’t keep a lot of loose cash on hand, so we’d be pulling in less than we would for most other jobs

Okay, yes, Banks don't keep a lot of loose cash, but really? Only twenty thousand? That's a lot of armored trucks going in and out every day then or something.

“We won because we picked our battles.  We wouldn’t have that option if we were cooped up in the bank and waiting for them to come to us, letting them decide how and where the fight happened.”

Brian, you're talking to Rachel, who I believe is the physical embodiment of this tumblr post:

I’d almost forgotten I was a part of the discussion.  The last thing I wanted was to rob a bank.  Hostages could get hurt.  The fact that it would potentially put me on the front page of the paper wasn’t a high point, either, if I ever wanted to drop the supervillain ruse and become a hero in good standing.  I ventured, “I think Brian makes a good case.  It seems reckless.”

Come on Taylor! You know you wanna just cut loose! :P :rofl: (Jk)

“Figure that’s happening in the middle of the school day, and they won’t all be able to slip away to stop a robbery without drawing attention.  People know the Wards are attending Arcadia, they just don’t know who they are.  So everyone’s constantly watching for that.  Since they can’t have all six or seven of the same kids disappear from class every time the Wards go off to foil a crime without giving away the show, chances are good that we’d go up against a couple of their strongest members, or one of the strongest with a group of the ones with less amazing powers.  We can beat them.”

And if a certain overstressed healer hadn't been there to make a withdrawal, this probably would have been fine.

That, and he really wants us to do a job at that particular time.”

I believe that screams 'BAIT!' and 'YOU ARE A DISTRACTION!'

“They have ride-alongs or aerial cover from various members of the Wards and the Protectorate, so we’d be caught in a fight with another cape from minute one.  Same problems that Brian’s talking about, as far as getting caught up in a fight, difficulty accessing the money before shit goes down, yadda yadda.  Anyways, the Brockton Bay Central has cars coming in twice a week, and leaving four times a week.  We hit on a Thursday just after noon, and it should be the best day and time for the sheer size of the take.  Only way we’re getting away with less than thirty thousand is if we fuck up.  With what the boss is offering, that’s ninety thou.”

Not a bad chunk of change for a lunchbreak sized job.

Brian sighed, long and loud, “Well, you got me, I guess.  It sounds good.”

If Brian isn't physically facepalming when he says this, he has to be mentally. Just... such 'fiiiiiiiiiine! (exasperated)' energy.

Arguing against the bank robbery at this point would hurt my undercover operation more than it helped anyone.  With that in mind, I began offering suggestions that – I hoped – would minimize the possibility of disaster.  The way I saw it, if I helped things go smoothly, it would help my scheme to get info on the Undersiders and their boss.  It would minimize the chance that someone would panic or be reckless and get a civilian hurt.  I think I would feel worse if that happened than I would about going to jail.

Fair, on the civilian front. I have no idea how many civilians Taylor hurts, but it's probably low. Also, the rationalizations continue apace!

The discussion went on for a while.  At one point, Lisa got her laptop, and we debated entrance and exit strategies while she sketched out a map of the bank layout.  It was uncanny, seeing her power at work.  She copied a satellite image of the bank from a web search into a paint program, then drew over it with thick bold lines to show how the rooms were laid out.  With another search and a single picture of the bank manager standing in front of his desk, she was able to mark out where the manager’s desk was.  That wouldn’t have been too amazing, but without pausing, she then went on to mark where the tellers were, as well as the vaults, the vault doors and the enclosed room that held the safe deposit boxes.  She noted where the fuse box and air conditioning vents were, but we decided we wouldn’t mess with either of those.

It's amazing what you can find on the internet... and with a power that lets you do what Sherlock Holmes pretends to.

Of the four of us, I got the impression he had the least to contribute, at least strategically, and that he knew it.  I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t have a very tactical mindset or if he just didn’t care that much about the planning stage of things.

Despite the fact that he is (according to fanfic, not sure if this is canon) a sociopath, and at the very least, fucked up thanks to being one of Heartbreaker's Kids, Alec may be the most normal of the Undersiders.

And boy is that weird to say.

“Sure,” he said, “So let’s go down the list.  Team leader: Aegis.  You’d think he has the standard Alexandria package, flight, super strength, invincibility, but that isn’t exactly right.  He does fly, but the other two powers work differently than you’d expect.  See, he isn’t invincible… he just doesn’t have any weak points.  His entire biology is filled with so many redundancies and reinforcements that you just can’t put him down.  Throw sand in his eyes and he can still see by sensing the light on his skin.  Cut his throat and it doesn’t bleed any more than the back of his hand would.  The guy’s had an arm cut off and it was attached and working fine the next day.  Stab him through the heart and another organ takes over the necessary functions.”

*Me, shaking the powers* WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE NORMAL?!?!?!

“I don’t need to hold back?” Bitch asked, her eyebrow quirked. “For once, no.  Go nuts.  Just, you know, don’t kill him. 

Very important that you added that extra detail there, Brian :P

“The upside is that whoever he touches is also untouchable.  Can’t be hurt, can’t be moved.  Period.  He uses that defensively, and he can do stuff like throw paper or cloth in the air and freeze it in time, making an unbreakable shield.  You don’t want to run into something that’s frozen.  A car that drove into the side of a piece of paper that Clockblocker had touched would be cut in two before it budged the paper.”

Everyone, get ready for our favorite game here at @got-into-worm-by-mistake!

*Wheel of Fortune Audience Voice*

POWERS!

ARE!

BULLSHIT!

(I say this a lot. I'll say it more. Because I absolutely love how nothing about any power in Worm can be 'normal' powers. Genuinely. Favorite part of the story that isn't my poor little meow meow babygirl Amy)

“Wherever our powers come from, they also came with some limitations.  For most of us, there’s a restriction about using our powers on living things.  The reach of powers generally stops at the outside of a person or animal’s body.  There’s exceptions for the people with powers that only work on living things, like you, Alec and Rachel.  But the long and short of it is that the Manton effect is why most telekinetics can’t just reach into your chest and crush your heart.  Most people who can create forcefields can’t create one through the middle of your body and cut you in two.”

I feel like maybe Taylor would have researched this more/better?

“I said most,” Lisa said, “Why these restrictions exist is a question nearly as big as where we got our powers in the first place.  The capes that can get around the Manton effect are among the strongest of us.”

And maybe, bitch, that's why you don't help tilt the girl who is teetering on the edge of becoming an S-Class threat over said edge?

(I am entitled to be irrational about some things.)

“That just leaves Shadow Stalker.  Bloodthirsty bitch,” Brian scowled.

AYYYY! Sophia! You horrid little bitch!

(Do we find out before Taylor does that Sophia is Shadow Stalker?)

“She was a solo hero,” Tattletale said, “Vigilante of the night, until she went too far and nearly killed someone, nailing him to a wall with one of her crossbows.  The local heroes were called in, she got arrested, and made some sort of deal.  Now she’s a probationary member of the Wards, with the condition that she uses tranquilizer bolts and nonlethal ammo for her crossbow.”

Furthers the whole "heroes kinda suck, be a villain" messaging from Interlude 2, really.

“I am,” I admitted, “as well as third thoughts, fourth thoughts, and so on.  But I’m not going to let that stop me.  I’m coming with.”

Valid af though.

“So unless there’s anything else, I think we just planned a bank robbery before noon,” Lisa said with a grin.  I looked at the digital clock displayed under the TV.  Sure enough, it was half past eleven.

Either Lisa is having too much fun with this, or the other Undersiders are having too little fun with it.

[bluemoonperegrine]

Those Who Wander

Rated T | Chapter 1/? | 1865 words | ao3 link

Authors: @bluemoonperegrine and @vicarious-rebel

Fandoms: Moon Knight, Werewolf By Night

Tags: Marc Spector/Jack Russell, Marc Spector & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley, mentions of Khonshu, mentions of Layla El-Faouly, San Diego/Tijuana area, alternate universe, fluff, romance, silliness

Summary: The Moon Knight system, now living in San Diego, decides to get back to nature after a mission investigating a human trafficking ring. Hiking in a national park in the mountains east of San Diego doesn't go as planned.

Notes: This is such an alternate universe. Seriously. It doesn't get much AU-ier than this! It's somewhere around 2010, the system and Jack are in their late 20s, and we've done a number on their backstories. Fun! We'll update tags as the story progresses.

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Chapter 1: Well-Met

Out of all of the criminals Marc Spector had hunted down in his twenty-six years, he despised human traffickers the most. Although they weren’t the most depraved of those who’d received Khonshu’s justice by his or Jake’s hand, their calculating opportunism made his blood boil. These lowlifes were modern-day slavers. Following Khonshu’s orders regarding them wasn’t a problem.

One such lowlife by the name of La Araña was the reason why Marc had moved from London to San Diego last month. One of the reasons, really. Somehow Khonshu had learned about an explosion in human trafficking in the San Diego/Tijuana area and ordered him and Jake to cease Araña’s operations by any means necessary. The bird had ordered Steven as well, but the Brit has managed to talk his way out of it for the most part. Steven was smarter than the skeletal blowhard, much to his annoyance and Marc’s, Jake’s, and Steven’s amusement.

Rather than embark on a long-term mission, the system had decided to move back to the States. Although a few months had passed after their mother’s death and the Harrow/Ammit mess, they still felt off-kilter. Moreso than usual, anyway. A change of scenery would do them good, Steven and Jake thought. 

Marc didn’t care either way. Life was pretty lousy no matter where you lived, so whatever. Their best friend Layla traveled constantly for archaeological or Taweret-related reasons, so they’d see her often. She and Frenchie were their—particularly Marc’s—rock. Thank god for cell phones.

Despite being at the top of a rocky ridge, Marc’s flip phone had no signal. He withheld a sigh as he swept his gaze around the arid, rugged landscape. He needed to get moving before the morning sun climbed higher in the sky. Somehow he’d forgotten to pack a hat in the small rucksack that Khonshu’s suit could absorb. Steven had wanted to experiment more to see exactly how much mass the moon god’s magic could manage. It sounded like a long and tedious process, so Marc vetoed it entirely. If it could fit in his Army rucksack, it would work. Simple.

After taking a long swig of water from his half-empty canteen, Marc stowed it, shouldered his pack, and started down the narrow animal trail that led down the steep, east-facing hillside and into the canyon below. They’d need water from the stream that had carved the deep, narrow valley by the time they got there. Water purification tablets would make it safe to drink.

A pulse of anxiety washed over him. This time Marc sighed. “What, Steven?”

Kinda steep, innit?

“Kinda. Jake and I hiked worse in the Army.”

Sure did, jefe.

Marc grinned; he hadn’t realized that Jake was awake. “You keeping an eye on things, Jake?”

He felt his headmate’s mental nod. Yup.

We’re not lost, Steven said as if reassuring himself. Marc said he knows where we are. I don’t see how, flying at night after our mission when there’s no moon and there’s hardly anything out here! How do pilots—

“Steven,” Jake and Marc said simultaneously. Marc continued, “Even if we were lost, which we’re not, it’s fine. We’re trained for this. Packed accordingly, and—”

You forgot a hat.

Jake chuckled as Marc grumbled under his breath. “I wanted a relaxing hike, Steven. This right now is the opposite of relaxing.”

Está bien, hermanito. We’ve got the suit, remember?

Steven chuckled. Right. One of you nudge me when we’re not on a cliff or if something interesting happens.

Marc grinned. “You got it, buddy.” He felt Steven retreat just in time for the first switchback. The footing was a bit dicey unless you were a mule deer. He’d manage, and if he didn’t the suit would save their ass again. The suit didn’t dull pain, so Marc focused on the rocky trail and enjoyed the wilderness stretching out in all directions.

Three hours later the sun was directly overhead and felt searing due to the thinner atmosphere at this elevation. Marc was halfway through his canteen of safe but gross-tasting purified stream water. He’d stripped off his T-shirt an hour earlier to act as an improvised headwrap/scarf to protect his scalp and the back of his neck. It was working, but allowing his rucksack straps to chafe on his shoulders. Most worryingly, the canyon floor was now sloping uphill. He’d been walking southwest as planned. Barrett Junction should be a half mile ahead and downhill.

Steven did the mental equivalent of a stretch and a yawn. We there yet, bruv?

“Getting close,” Marc hedged.

Jake chuckled softly.

Wot? Steven asked.

We’re—

“Do not, Jake.”

We’re what?

Marc sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Taking the scenic route.”

Jake laughed and soon was joined by Steven. It’s all scenic, mate!

Hold up, Jake said, and Marc halted. Despite sharing the same body, somehow Jake picked up on things before he and Steven did. 

Marc looked and listened intently. Nothing was moving other than a few birds high overhead, but he heard something, just barely.

Jake stated, Vehicle. East.

Brilliant! Steven enthused as Marc darted behind a stand of pine-tree-like shrubs. What’re you doing? We can get a ride to civilization!

Gotta make sure he’s not a hostile.

Marc felt Steven virtually roll his eyes. You lot are paranoid. ‘E’s—or she, could be a woman, you know—prob’ly just out enjoying nature, but not lost like—

“WE’RE NOT LOST!”

The sound of the approaching engine quieted. “Hey!” a male voice called from the southeast. Maybe the canyon branched that way. “You need a hand? ¿Necesitas ayuda?” 

Yes! Steven replied as if the guy could hear him. 

Marc shushed his headmate so he could continue observing. Footsteps crunched on sand and gravel. Soon a slender man in a park ranger’s uniform stepped through an opening in the canyon wall and into view. His wide-brimmed hat shaded his face.

Feeling foolish, Marc shifted his weight to his other foot and debated waiting the ranger out. Maybe he should just summon the suit and fly off after all. He’d be a lot less sunburned that way.

The park ranger seemed to look right at Marc despite the evergreen shrubs hiding him. He started jogging toward him, calling “¿Estás herido? Are you hurt? I have a first aid kit in the jeep.” His English had a light Mexican accent.

Busted, Jake chortled as Steven snickered.

Wishing he’d never attempted a relaxing post-mission hike, Marc strode around the edge of the shrubby trees. “I’m okay, just…”

The ranger had halted about ten feet from him, close enough to make out his features despite the shade from his hat. He was drop-dead handsome, clean-shaven with tan skin and short dark hair. Seemed to be about Marc’s age and height.

Blimey, Steven murmured. Those eyes!

I thought you liked Layla, Jake said.

I do, Steven returned, but she doesn’t like any of us like that—

¡Gracias a Dios!

—and that’s fine, and I dunno, I’m still figuring things out so—

Shut. Up. Marc managed to say silently, if through gritted teeth. Mercifully, they listened.

The ranger—Russell per his name tag—tilted his head and frowned. “You’re sweating. That’s good.” He resumed walking toward him.

“Good?” Marc echoed, acutely aware that he was shirtless. Why did he care? He’d been in the army for crying out loud!

Russell smiled broadly. “You don’t have heat stroke. Do you have water?” Marc nodded. “Good.” He stretched one arm in the direction he’d come from and reached the other toward Marc’s shoulder but didn’t touch him. “Let me give you a ride back to wherever you’d parked. Was it the main lot, or one of the others?”

Marc found himself walking with the young man. “I, uh, was dropped off.”

Jake snorted.

Russell looked at him askance, then shrugged. “We’ll go to the station. It’s air-conditioned. You can rest, then go from there.” Marc nodded agreement.

They walked uphill along a short, narrow gap in the canyon wall heading east. Marc spotted the ranger’s dusty jeep parked near its mouth.

“Got a name?” Russell asked.

“Marc,” he replied.

Russell grinned. “Nice to meet you, Marc.” He put one hand on his stomach. “Jack.”

Steven chuckled, which made Marc frown. What? he asked.

“Yes, like the dog,” Jack said with a brilliant smile. “It wasn’t intentional.” He stopped walking, so Marc followed suit, abruptly realizing they’d reached the jeep. His situational awareness had gone to shit for some reason. 

Jack’s brow furrowed again. He motioned at the passenger side of the jeep. “Go ahead, get in. It’s a half hour drive on rough roads to the station, so be sure to drink some water. I’ve got jerky and trail mix if you need something to eat.”

Marc nodded again and did so, putting on his shirt after setting his rucksack in the back seat. Jack steered the jeep further east, then turned north on a rutted jeep trail. They were headed in the opposite direction he’d intended to go, not that it mattered. He caught Jack’s eye and waved southwest. “How much further was Barrett Junction?”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up as smile crept across his face. “That’s where you were headed?”

“Yeah.” Marc felt his headmates’ amusement loud and clear.

“I’m glad I found you,” Jack said, now serious. “Eight miles as the crow flies, but with this terrain? No offense, but I don’t think you’re prepared for it. And there’s no backcountry permits issued for this area right now. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh.” Marc faced forward, stared out the windshield, and tried to ignore Steven’s and Jake’s laughter. “I’ll be sure to get a permit in the future.”

Jack nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “They’re for safety more than anything. It’s not good to do this stuff alone. I love it out here, but have to admit it can be dangerous. There are predators.”

“Yeah,” Marc agreed, his thoughts returning to La Araña. With the border only a few miles to the south, the trafficker may have routes nearby. For a moment Marc considered asking Jack if he’d heard of Araña, but decided otherwise. If anything he might seem suspicious, being in a remote area of the park near the border without a permit. So he drank more of the bitter-tasting water from his canteen, and waited to return to civilization.

Look at ‘im, bruv.

Marc didn’t on general principle and to not be weird; Jack was navigating a tooth-rattlingly rough section of road. Why?

‘Cos I want to see him. He’s cute!

Dios, Jake moaned. It’s Layla all over again.

Would that be so bad? Steven countered. She’s brilliant! A good mate.

Marc sighed. Enough. It’s not like we’ll be out this way again. 

Unless we want to go on another relaxing hike, Steven said. I’d say this is the perfect place to go!

Jake drawled, Try not to get lost, jefe.

Marc tried to lean the back of his head against the headrest, but the lurching jeep made that impossible. I hate you guys.

You don’t, Steven returned, affection clear in his words.

Marc returned it, smiling. I don’t.

[huntingingoodwill]

Steve and an alt girlie is my absolute weakness, he goes into the record store and sees her listening to something so he begs Eddie to lend him the record so he can listen to it and then talk to her about it so she starts letting him listen to her own mixtapes and he's sooo pathetic and in love with her but can't muster up the courage to ask her out

ugh anon i love u we’re operating on the same wavelength 🤝

basing this off this music store girl hc i wrote <3

steve goes into the record shop pretending to browse, but the whole time he’s just 👁️👁️ squinting trying to see the title of the record she's playing

she totally commandeers the store’s stereo btw… she's had to chase eddie out from behind the counter the few times he’s dared to hijack it to play his own music

anyway! steve gets eds to distract her so he can memorise the record titles on her section of the employee recommendation shelf… he probably uses a pen to scribble them onto his palm 😭 (eddie’s method of distraction: unwinding steve’s tapes - steve wasn’t too pleased but he knew it was for the greater good - and getting her to fix them with a pencil as eddie chats her up, acting like he has no idea why the tapes are messed up even though he was in steve's car unravelling them fifteen minutes ago)

you are totally right about steve begging eddie to lend him records and he definitely cajoles eddie into going into the store to buy tapes/records for him when he’s feeling especially shy and just can’t face her because he’ll become a blushing mess so he just stands outside in the cold :,)

eddie totally makes steve do his homework or help him with his campaigns in exchange for getting him a record of hers and steve reluctantly does it because he needs his help 😭

i loveeee this hc especially if she was from a bigger city before moving to hawkins? so she was able to have access to more subcultures and is a bit “ahead” , like she’s listening to bands and making references that fly over steve’s head but he’s mentally taking notes and doing everything he possibly can to find out more

he references what he’s learnt to her at random moments bc he wants to impress her 😭😭😭 and she’s so sweet and encouraging about it she’s like yeah!!! and tries to talk to him more about it even though he. fully doesn’t know more than one song. but he’s sweet it’s the thought that counts <3

she and eddie constantly argue about each other's music taste, it’s just fun to bully and clown on each other :,) eddie regularly hangs out at fam video to annoy rob and steve and every once in a while she comes in and goes “required listening” before slamming down a tape and flouncing back to the record store. eds takes one look at it and yells after her that it’s trash and steve immediately snatches it out of his hands and is like “well if you don’t listen to it I will >:(“

he spends his break listening to it in his car, trying to memorise the tracklist and squinting trying to read the tiny lyric booklet

he works up the courage to mention that he “overheard some of the music when eddie was playing it” and she smiles and asks if he wants a mixtape and he has to stop himself from screaming YES

she makes him a mix with a little note that says “for steve :)” and he plays it on repeat in his car forever and tucks the note in his car’s sun visor for safekeeping

she wears a bunch of pins on her uniform with sayings on them like “free ferris”, “jessie’s girl” and “quit looking at my pins” and of course pins from a bunch of the bands she likes

and he buys music mags and reads them to try and learn as much as possible about the bands he sees on the pins she wears

and yeah she’s an alt girlie but his heart is poundinggggg when she shows she likes the more mainstream stuff that he loves

he offers her a ride home and whitney starts playing (i stand by this SO HARD that steve is a WHITNEY HOUSTON STAN he for real thinks i wanna dance with somebody and how will i know was written about him) or cyndi lauper comes on the radio they scoff about how cheesy it is but when the chorus kicks in they’re grabbing onto each other screaming “HOW WILL I KNOW IF HE REALLY LOVES ME“ or them just belting time after time to each other and laughing and pointing at each other and trying to hit all the high notes :,)

from then on every time steve walks into the record store she puts on the song they sang in the car together over the store's stereo and they just smile at each other and steve pretends his heart isn't about to explode

[beels-burger-babe]

I Burn For You

***So THIS has been stuck in my head all day and I just- I love it. I love it so much. And it reminded me...So you guys all know how I hate/love Lucifer...it gave me those vibes. So........... Well I haven't written anything actually relevant to The Facade of the Suitor or anything else that I've been procrastinating, I have been able to push out this little short inspired by this beauty of a duet that is EVERYTHING to me. -B***

Summary: Since MC's arrival, Lucifer and them have never fully gotten along. There was always a large, unknown and undiscussed tension between them and they were fine to keep it that way. But when MC's security in the Devildom is threatened by both the angels and the nobility of the Devildom itself, everything changes. As a ruse to persuade the celestial realm, MC and Lucifer wed. After the ceremony, they finally talk about the unacknowledged feelings burning inside of both of them.

MC x Lucifer

The air hung heavy and thick like the gold bands that now decorated both of your fingers.

You and Lucifer stood on opposite sides of the room, your backs facing one another with nothing but silence between you.

You couldn't help but reminisce on how you got here, on your supposed 'honeymoon' married to none other but the prideful, arrogant, avatar of sin, Lucifer Morningstar himself.

Diavolo had burst into the House of Lamentation an entire month ago. He desperately explained how the angels had received word about you through the fond, innocent-intending, stories of Luke and we're demanding that you be 'released' from your 'imprisonment in the infernal Devildom and that they wished to cleanse you of the 'hellish corruption' the demons had 'forced upon you' through your pacts. Wanting to avoid yet another Celestial War, even on a small scale, the noble court had wanted to agree and simply hand you over to them, cut your pacts, and banish you from returning as an act of agreement and co-operation with the angels.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with you or any of the brothers.

You had all tried to come up with a number of plans, but they all promised retaliation from the angels.

Eventually, it was Lucifer himself who begrudgingly came up with the final plan. The angels wouldn't believe you if you simply told them that you liked it here and wanted to stay. They'd think you were charmed or manipulated. However, if the two of you worked together, and pretended to be in a relationship, convince the angels of your 'genuine' feelings and prove to them that you were in love, and finalize this by marrying Lucifer, it just might work.

First of all, love was something that had sparked war in the past, that both sides had learned from and had grown to deeply treasure and value. Secondly, Micheal, head Archangel of the Celestial Realm, trusted Lucifer the most of all the brothers. The two of you could take advantage of that use it to convince him that you were actually safer in the Devildom by Lucifer's side. And finally, if you were willingly bound by marriage, there was very little that the Celestial Realm could do to force you to leave.

The plan wasn't terrible, but there was one thing about it that caused you to clench your fists and grind your teeth: it was with Lucifer.

Lucifer who constantly teased you and pushed your buttons in a way that he knew would cause you to either give in to him or snap.

Lucifer who was cruel and sadistic and did nothing unless there was some personal gain or it was under the demand of his precious Diavolo.

Lucifer who never ever put anything before his own stupid pride.

Though you were normally a calm and positive person, there was just something about Lucifer that had always caused an inferno of anger and rebellion to burn within you. You felt this strong need to constantly prove him wrong and to defy him.

As a result, the two of you consistently butted heads, arguing about Lucifer's treatment of his brothers and your recklessness on an almost weekly basis.

The idea of being chained to this...this demon for the rest of your mortal life caused your stomach to twist tightly into knots. Though, if it ensured you'd be able to stay with the rest of your found family? You'd make the necessary sacrifice.

So the two of you did the whole show. You went on dates, smiled and laughed together as though you were the lead roles in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and played every card in the book to convince the angels that you were safe and happy under the kind watch of your lover.

Those weeks had started off painful, as you pushed back all feelings of disdain for the eldest brother to play the role of the perfect partner. But as time passed, you hadn't noticed that it had become easier and easier to stay by his side. The smiles you gave him were no longer forced, but sincere ones that brought joy. The lines between what was real and what was fake began to blur.

You sealed the deal with your wedding only a few hours ago.

The vows Lucifer had spoken...promising to watch and protect you even as your skin wrinkled and your hair grew grey. To hold your hand and aid you when you no longer had the strength. To shower you in love and devotion even in your final hours.

They had been spoken with such passion and raw emotion that you didn't dare think too deeply about. It had caused your breath to catch in your throat, and you had to remind yourself that this was all an act. Soon the curtain would close, and Lucifer would return to the cold-hearted monster that you knew.

Yet even now, hours after the ceremony had finished, you couldn't get that intense gaze, and the sparks that exploded under your fingertips as his hands gently squeezed yours, out of your head.

Lucifer sighed from the other side of the room and glanced over at you. "Are we just going to continue ignoring each other?"

You scoffed and turned your head further away; ignoring the loud pounding of your heart and instead focusing on the flickers of frustration licking up your gut. "What else are we supposed to do? There's no one else around. The act is over."

You whirled around at his sarcasm and could practically feel the wrath blazing behind your eyes. "Sorry, my Lord, if I'm not exactly giddy about the fact that I just signed myself to the likes of you just for the approval of some fluffy winged assholes!"

You could practically hear Lucifer roll his eyes as he walked over to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink. "Right. So you just plan to spend the entirety of the weekend that Micheal paid for us brooding in a corner? How mature of you."

Lucifer, the fucker, had the gull to act unphased and casually swirled his drink in his hand. "It could be much, much worse," he took a sip of the amber liquid before staring down in his glass. "It's not as though you didn't agree to this."

"Only because I didn't want to be kicked out of the Devildom and never allowed to see your brothers again!" You growled. Your anger only grew as you noticed him clench his fingers tighter around the glass. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. "This was a stupid plan! You probably just invented this entire ruse as yet another way to get under my skin. Well congratulations, Lucifer. You win!"

You refused to look at him, as you turned your heated gaze out the window.

You didn't see the flash of hurt that washed over his expression, nor hear the way his breath caught in his throat. "Is being married to me truly that awful? Are you honestly telling me that you haven't enjoyed even a single second of this past month?"

You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest, as you continued to avoid looking at him. "What kind of question is that? You're a demon who cares about nothing but himself," you pursed your lips and mentally tried to deny just how wrong those words felt on your tongue.

"I wouldn't say that's true. Believe it or not, I do care for my brothers." There was a shaky breath, one so uncharacteristic for the confident Morningstar, before he continued. "And you. I did promise to love you until your final breath after all, and I do not break my promises."

There was silence once again. Though this quiet seemed to crackle with the anticipation for something, though neither of you quite knew what.

You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your heart at his words. "Those vows were only part of the act. They weren't real."

"Perhaps not for you," your eyes snapped open at the response. You looked back at the demon. Lucifer stood leaning against the wall, drink still in hand, as he stared intensely at the floor. "This may have all been an act for you, MC, but it stopped being a ruse for me mere hours after we began."

You felt yourself frown as you stared at him. Your traitor heart dared to grow warm with hope, only adding fuel to the growing frustration inside you. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me worked up again."

"Actually, I'm not," his eyes met yours and it felt as though time froze. His expression was so unguarded, so honest. For once, you looked into his eyes and you could see every emotion that he wore openly before you. You could see the hurt, the certainty, and most of all the same passionate love that shone so brightly in them throughout the ceremony. "From the moment I met you, you caused a fire to ignite in my heart. I was determined to control you and to make you be the human representative for Diavolo. But then, you acted against me, and that changed. I still wanted to make sure that you fulfilling your purpose in the exchange program, but I took on the challenge of finally having you respect and listen to me. You were stubborn and fierce, yet so beautifully driven and I admired that." your eyes widened at the admission. "It wasn't until I was forced to look at you in a romantic light for this scheme that I understood the true nature of these feelings. It wasn't that I wanted to control you, or break you, or shape you into what I needed. It was so much deeper, so much more dangerous than that. I wanted to have you fall in love for me, as I had fallen for you, and make you mine."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't feel the same. I've accepted that. But I...I'm done with acting like this isn't real for me. I refuse to pretend that there's nothing there between us any longer."

He finally broke eye contact, looking back at his now empty glass as you practically gaped at him. Love. Lucifer...loved you? You gulped and took a step towards him, "Lucifer..."

The fire burning within you consumed you as your face heated up. "You...You love me? You actually love me?"

You flinched as he glared sharply at you. "Don't rub it in."

You didn't know what to make of that. You weren't sure what to make of any of this. Your feelings towards Lucifer had changed over the past month, but you had assumed that was simply part of the act. But if everything he had done and said as you two were pretending to be a couple was real, then what did that mean for you?

What did that mean for the way the sight of him caused your heart to skip? Or the way his rare smiles never failed to make you smile back? Or the unwavering sense of comfort and security that he provided?

What did that mean for the ruthless, scalding fire that he had always caused to rage inside you? You always assumed it was anger, but what if...

You gasped in realization. "I burn for you."

The demon tensed as he blinked in confusion. "You...I'm sorry, you what?"

You moved closer to him, each step more certain than the last, as you shakily spoke the words that rang through you. "I burn for you, Lucifer. I don't know entirely what it means myself, but ever since we met you've caused this irrational passion and drive to sear inside of me. I-I had always assumed it was hatred. You're so infuriating. Every word you speak does nothing but cause that fire to flare brighter within in. Every action leaves me filled with sparks of restless energy that won't be satiated until I combust at you," as you now stood nearly toe to toe with him, you grabbed his hand and placed it over your roaring heart. Hope flickered like a candle in the darkness of his black eyes. "I had thought that this couldn't be anything other than anger and hatred. I refused to believe even the possibility that it could be anything else. But this past month you...you were honest and almost kind and vulnerable. Your teasing didn't make me want to punch you, but rather made me laugh. You showed me a side of you that I didn't even know existed. I...I think-"

You were cut off by a finger on your lips. Lucifer looked down at you with a stern, cold expression. The action paired with that face would've caused you to become infuriated by his audacity and superiority complex in the past. But now you could see past it, and could see it for what it truly was: a carefully crafted barrier that hid his most vulnerable feelings and protected him. "If you do not mean the words you were about to say, if you are pitying me, I must demand that you stop here. Do not say those words unless you truly mean them," his deep voice was tinged with distrust and caution.

You held his gaze as you kissed the pad of the finger against your lips and whispered gently, "Lucifer, I think that I love you."

Suddenly your lips were captured in his as he pulled you close and ever so adoringly cupped your face. For the first time since meeting him, the flames inside you were extinguished by the cold touch of his hands on your face and the surprising gentleness of his affection.

His hand slid from your face and came to rest on your shoulder as his eyes widened. His gaze scanned your expression for any traces of falsehood or insincerity. You could hear the breath leave his lungs as he found none.

He softly kissed his temple, effectively hiding his face as it grew redder and whispered, "Of course, beloved."

Lucifer laughed as he pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiled. "To think it only took us getting married to realize it," you laughed as you felt happy tears prick the corners of your eyes. Lucifer sighed in content as rested his forehead against yours. "Remind me to send a thank you to, Micheal."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Forget Micheal. He's still an asshole as far as I'm concerned. Instead, focus on me. On us. I want to learn everything about you, about the real you," you smiled as he looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "My husband, Lucifer Morningstar."

You couldn't help but wonder how you had been so oblivious to your true feelings as a shiver ran down your spine and warmth spread throughout your chest simultaneously.

This honest and pure love between the two of you, was new, yet it felt so familiar, and it was abundantly clear to both of you that the depth of those feelings would only become clearer and clearer in time as the fires of your love only grew.

***Gasp. I actually finished something. Would you look at that. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! Thank you so much for your support during my hiatus and for being so understanding. I love you guys! Thanks again for reading!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelymushi @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

[youngbugandtonystank]

what's the difference between what wanda did to those people in wandavision and what tony did with ultron?

I have so many asks about this. Hate asks, and people wondering what’s going on. This is the only one I’m answering.

Both of them are responsible for their actions. I’ve seen people try and take away either Tony’s responsibility for that or Wanda’s engagement and accountability. 

In Tony’s case, the Ultron program was supposed to be a global peacekeeping program to protect the people, acting as a suit around the world to prevent events like the Battle of New York. He was doing it in the name of peace and safety. Tony was rightfully scared because he was the only one who knew what was coming. Wanda intentionally enhanced that fear in him and this drove him to create Ultron with Bruce. He has responsibility for it. Same as Bruce. He owns up to this, he took full responsibility and agreed that they needed to be regulated. 

Tony Stark: A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA... and then Ultron. My fault.

--

Tony Stark: There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.

--

Tony Stark: That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.

--

If people think he needs to be in jail for it, then I’m guessing the rest of the Avengers too since all of them have made mistakes and killed people too. As a matter of fact, after the events of Wandavision, I’m sure that Wanda should be in the Raft, but because she’s ‘a poor baby’ yall won’t think she deserves that. 

SPOILERS

It’s a big possibility that we don’t have all the info about what happened in Wandavision but we’re going to go with what we know so far. 

In Wanda’s case, she did it to appease her grief and pain, and I can understand why she would get to that point, she’s been through a lot and maybe she was about to lose her mind. Instead of recruiting Wanda after the Sokovia incident, they should’ve given this girl treatment for her mental health problems. She just lost her brother and passed through a very traumatic war zone, of course she needs assistance. Cap and Natasha were the ones responsible for her because they were training the ‘new’ avengers. Sam was with them and he used to be a counselor to veterans with PTSD. He could’ve helped Wanda with some of her traumas. As shown in the series, Wanda did the whole hex business before meeting Agatha, which means creating that little reality was all Wanda’s responsibility. Hayward and Agatha did exactly what Wanda did to Tony (and the avengers/other people) in AOU. They manipulated her and played with her emotional traumas. Hayward showed her Vision’s body parts and Agatha started to pull strings to know how Wanda did what she did and her real powers while orchestrating against her. 

Both of them have made mistakes. No one is better than the other. I don’t understand why some fans want to make someone responsible more than the other or blame one character for the other. While Wanda gave Tony that vision and pushed his self-destructive side to obsess over saving the world, he did create Ultron, what Tony didn’t predict was that the robot was going to corrupt itself. Same with Wanda, while Agatha and Hayward contributed to her trauma, she held hostage and isolated 3,892 people to create her perfect reality, ripping these people away from their identities and free will to fit her own fantasy. Don’t turn this into ‘omg poor her, it’s Tony fault that she’s this way'. I can’t believe I have to repeat this but you don’t see Peter Parker obsessively looking for the person who manufactured the gun instead of the criminal who actually killed Uncle Ben. Ridiculous that I have to repeat this example. 

Oh and about Vision’s body (damn yall have a gift to turn everything into Tony’s fault for some reason). I can’t believe some of you think Tony (while grieving for 5 years) would give Vision to Hayward. You’re either pulling stuff out of your asses or you didn’t pay attention to the show. Maria Rambeau founded and was the Director of S.W.O.R.D. In 2018 (when IW happened), this is where she came up with a new policy within S.W.O.R.D. to ground snapped agents in case they ever returned. Maria was diagnosed with cancer, then two years later (2020), she passed away. Then, Hayward was promoted to Director of S.W.O.R.D., in his first years (2020-2022) he refocused the organization’s work from extraterrestrial operations to robotics, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, etc. There, that was the 5 years. Then in 2023 it’s when he started project Cataract, which revolved around rebuilding Vision as a sentient weapon. Tony was dead when this happened. How come yall don’t get this part? I don’t understand, do you really think his dead corpse signed some papers to give Vision to those people? LMAO

Instead of thinking Tony would give up Vision just like that, think (possibilities):

Maria was the head of S.W.O.R.D., she might have just been keeping his body safe without doing anything with him. Maybe she trusted Hayward and he, obviously, betrayed her because he’s turning her organization into something else after her death. 

One of the Sokovia Accords regulations states that the use of technology to bestow individuals (the term ‘enhanced individual’ in this book is defined as any person, human or otherwise, with superhuman capabilities) with innate capabilities is strictly regulated by the government, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology. Vision signed those accords ('I'm saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight...oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand’) The Avengers were no longer be a private organization and they operate under the supervision of the United Nations. This means they (UN) were the ones that referred Vision’s body to S.W.O.R.D., to a trustworthy leader, Maria. 

Vision died in Wakanda, not in New York. Tony was missing for 22 days after the snap, the rest of the avengers should’ve taken responsibility for his body.  

Why is it always Tony’s fault but never consider that other parties are also involved in this? 

I want to address some other asks with this one. I know some of you are angry because people are starting to blame Tony all over again, so a few things to remember:

Tony did not create the Accords. The Accords were the result of all the collective actions the Avengers have done in their superhero careers. All of them have made mistakes and the collateral damage of that was taken into consideration by the government and 117 countries around the world. He signed the accords because he knew that he could amend them with the support of the rest of the avengers and he knew about Thanos (something big was coming). 

Obadiah Stane (it’s so bizarre for me seeing that some people don’t know who this guy is, I’m guessing that the people who are watching Wandavision are too young to remember or didn’t watch the Iron Man movies at all which is highly probable) was the one selling weapons to the wrong people, not Tony. Obadiah was the CEO of Stark industries and became second-in-command for two decades. He grew jealous of Tony and began cooperating with the Ten Rings in Afghanistan, selling them Stark Industries weapons illegally. Imagine blaming all of it on Tony when Obadiah basically murdered thousands only because he felt a little green. If someone who you trust (he had no reasons to doubt Obadiah since he was like a second father-figure for him) does something behind your back (take into consideration that people like Pepper; who was Tony’s assistant and had knowledge of all of Tony’s activities and responsibilities, Rhodey; who was the liaison between the military in the department of acquisitions and Stark Industries, and Happy Hogan; who was his personal bodyguard and Head of Security of Stark Industries, didn’t know what Stane was doing either), how are you going to know about it? Tony trusted him. And when he realized what was going on he immediately stopped all of it. He worked hard to be better and people overlook that because they want other characters to look better. 

Don’t act like Tony was the only one assisting the military. All of the avengers assisted in one way or another. Natasha (who used to be an assassin) was in the Red Room, trained in the Black Widow Program in association with Leviathan and the Soviet Armed Forces, served for KGB, etc. Bruce Banner used to work for the United States government and was commissioned to create a super serum for them. Same goes with the rest, Sam, Clint, etc. Steve Rogers was a soldier lmaoooooooooooooo like, what happened to Tony with Obadiah happened to Steve with SHIELD/HYDRA in TWS. He trusted the people working in there (SHIELD), served for them, did missions for them and as soon as he found out what they were doing behind his back he turned against them. 

Knowing all of this, how is Tony always the villain for yall? I’m guessing because Tony’s popularity in the MCU, but still, aren’t yall tired of not understanding the plot and having people repeat it to you constantly? Watch the movies if you want to understand the franchise, people. Stop following the crowd. 

Also, Wanda is not a kid, she’s a 35 year old woman in Wandavision, she was 26 in AOU and 27 in CW. Hardly a child. Tony had almost her same age (38) when he realized Obadiah was selling illegal weaponry behind his back. The only reason people don’t fully forgive Tony is because 1. he’s a man and 2. he’s a billionaire. Even if Wanda was poor she still killed and hurt many people over the course of her life. Stop trying to make Tony the villain only to downplay Wanda’s actions. 

Both have killed people, both have made mistakes. They’re both responsible for them. 

[goddessglo]

Hi Jewel, this is 🐨🐰 ! its been a while !!

I wanted to come on here to update you about an instant manifestation I just experienced earlier in the day : I manifested 1 000€ in under an hour :)

Context :

A lot happened since the last time I talked on here (last December), but long story short : I decided to leave the job I had to preserve my mental health, and because I know that I deserve a lot more wether it be the working conditions or the salary.

Story time :

Before I resigned from that job, I hadn’t been paid for the month of January yet, and I handed my letter on the last day of the month.

Today, we’re February the 14th and I still hadn’t been paid.

While scrolling on tumblr looking at LOAssumption posts as a morning routine to remind myself everyday that I am the operant power of my reality, I realized that the only area in my life where I held the assumption that “I cannot manifest this” was money, and for some reason I believed that I couldn’t manifest money.

So, by putting light on this limiting belief, it already lost the power it had over me because I took it back. And, since you just need to change within so that you can see a change without, I got rid of all the old assumptions I had related to money, and decided that from that point on : I am abundance personified, money flows to me easily, I am the Universe’s favorite, my desires are a promise and I deserve every single one that I have.

I also included a new affirmation which is : failure, probabilities and logic does not apply in my life. I constantly live in my desired reality.

After rewiring my self-concept and my assumptions around money, I feel asleep and took a quick nap for like almost an hour.

When I woke up, my dad called me to inform me that I had just been transferred 1,000€ by my old employer, and what’s crazy is that my salary was supposed to be only 670€ 🦆. I do not know why he sent me this much money but I absolutely do not care because I’m a princess and I deserved to be blessed and most importantly : logic does not matter !!!

I am so so happy because my manifestation came instantly again and without me lifting one single finger. I am so so happy that I get proof everyday that logic does not exist and that manifestation is very real. Our “wonderful imagination”, like Neville calls it, is an absolute gift that I am SO thankful for every single moment of my life. I am actually excited because since

☆ Take away ! — Manifestation is a lifestyle, we shift realities with every moment and every choice we make. So, by changing your assumptions about yourself and your life you can completely change your life at the blink of an eye. And when you commit to the new story and never give any energy again to the old crusty one, your 3D life conforms to your 4D life immediately, either right before your eyes or behind the scenes. But remember that there is always movement when there is faith in oneself and in one’s abilities/powers. You have the power of God within, you are the operant power of your reality !

Hehe I’m finished ! I hope you’re having a wonderful day and I would love to hear what you’ve manifested lately !! see you later, take care (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)☆

I’m so happy you are back in my inbox again, also proud of for you making that big decision to let go of your job since it was not right for you anymore.

INSTANT MONEY SUCCESS!! Like thats truly insane but not even surprise cause you’re an amazing manifestor clearly. You said it right, logic does not exist. thank you for taking the time to write this out i always appreciate what you send me and for others to see. take care also 💗✨

[edwardprendick1896]

But You Can’t Make It Drink

A BBC Ghosts - inspired short story by me :)

edit: this is the first fic i have ever written so it’s probably not perfect lol

This is my way of saying thank you to the Ghosts fandom on tumblr. I am so grateful to have found people who love this show, and discussing it, as much as me.

CO = Commanding Officer

Word Count: Around 950-1000

content warning for references to homophobia and mental illness (As well as spoilers for Series 2 of Ghosts). probably best not to read if you’re not in a great headspace. This content is “safe for work” it’s just a bit sad.

But You Can’t Make It Drink

“Well, we’re going to have to think of a name, sir.” Havers began, as he tentatively entered the study, cradling two cups of tea.

“Don’t be absurd Havers, a bomb doesn’t need a name. In fact, naming it would make it worse if it were to fail, and blow up in our faces.”

Eyes glued to the blueprints, the Captain absent-mindedly picked up a cup.

“Actually sir, that’s mine, you specifically requested no sugar … or milk.”

The Captain looked up, and his eyes widened. “I-I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” He hastily pushed the tea back over to Havers, causing some to splash over the brim.

“That’s alright, sir.” Havers chuckled, taking care of the spillage with his handkerchief. “And I meant for the operation, sir. We need a code name.”

“Ah yes.” The Captain cleared his throat awkwardly. “That’s what I thought you meant; I was just testing yo-” Havers met his gaze with a knowing smile. “Well, er, we need something clear and to the point, such as, er, … Operation … Secret Weapons Testing.”

Havers put a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples in an attempt to suppress his eyes from rolling. “I was thinking about something more inconspicuous sir, so as to not draw the attention of any spies that may be in our ranks.”

“Ah. Well-” The Captain looked down and cleared his throat again. “How about Operation William?”

“…My name, sir?”

“Well, yes! Then if a German were to overhear, or read the name in a file, he-”

“Or she, sir.”

“Yes…or she, would think the information only concerned your performance!” he exclaimed, his eyes eager as he beamed at Havers.

“…very well sir, if that’s the name you want, it will do.”

“Well, I-I can’t say I’m all that concerned…” The Captain made an effort to sip his tea in a nonchalant manner. “… but you’re right, it will do.”

Disappointed by Havers’ lukewarm approval, he dropped his eyes back to the desk. The CO had rather been hoping to impress his second-in-command at least once that evening.

*

As they worked, the sky filled with violet-lined clouds as it gradually faded from blue to pink. The corridor outside began to brew with lively chattering and warm laughter, as the members of the Button House Regiment finished their work for the day. Not that the Captain seemed to hear it. For him, there should be no pause to the war effort, as there was no pause to the war.

“Perhaps, we should stop for tonight sir, you’ve worked very hard this evening.” Havers commended, rising from his chair.

“So have you Lieutenant, go and join the others and leave me to the rest.” Standing up, the Captain began to gather the papers and blueprints before a gentle hand touched his arm.

“Nonsense, sir.” Havers insisted, patting his superior’s forearm in an endeavour to reassure him. “…You needn’t work all the time, it’s not good for your health-”

“It is good for the country’s health!” The Captain blurted out, cutting him off.

He cleared his throat before glancing upwards apologetically, meeting the piercing, yet caring, gaze of his Lieutenant. Havers brought his hand to the Captain’s shoulder and leant towards him.

“… b-but you’re absolutely right! I, er … I just need to check-” The CO jumped backwards and hastened towards the door, as if alerted by an air raid siren. He closed the door behind him a little too quickly, producing a stern slam that swept the blueprints across the desk.

That dreadful sound would haunt Havers’ mind until the day he died. Left grasping thin air, he collapsed into his seat, head in his hands. Oh well, you can lead a horse to water.

*

Now that Havers was alone, the darkness of the room suddenly became very apparent. After the Captain entered the corridor, the voices had softened and the laughter subsided. 

The words spoken about the ever-anxious Captain were rarely kind. Due to the man’s clearly fragile nature, Havers was thankful that the worst of it was kept out of earshot, and he ensured all written messages for the Captain came through him first. It seemed that for too many members of the Button House Regiment, “Careless Talk Costs Lives” didn’t apply to slighting their already strained CO. Luckily, the Captain probably wouldn’t acknowledge the term “homosexual” even if it was bellowed at him across the front lawn, let alone muttered at the back of the briefing room.

But what others were in doubt about, Havers knew. After all, it was why he had so quickly been given the position of second-in-command. It was why the Captain was so keen to be orderly, efficient, and tidy. He was more on edge than any other soldier, as if the enemy was constantly poised in the corner of his eye, or slowly creeping into the back of his mind. As the two men had grown closer, Havers had become afraid of leaving the Captain alone with any type of weaponry, particularly the smaller, handheld kind. Written requests for a service revolver still sat at the bottom of a pile of documents in Havers’ quarters.

Earlier that day, Havers had received news of a possible North Africa front, which he was yet to make his CO aware of. He supposed he himself could go to the front, rather than staying to watch helplessly as the man he cared for suffered though loneliness and self-denial.

A curt knock kindly interrupted these thoughts.

“I say Havers.” A soft, quavering voice came, muffled, through the door. “I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk down to the lake.”

His solemn expression breaking into a faint smile, Havers straightened up immediately, wiping his eyes with his tea-stained handkerchief.

“Of course, sir.”

He hurriedly stuffed the handkerchief back into his trouser pocket, pushed himself out of his chair, and strode towards the door.

The End

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Grand Gestures

Request: A request for my love, George Weasley! Post-war (Fred is alive obvs) and all is good and well, and they've been ignoring their feelings for one another for so long and now, because George almost lost Fred and he's tired of ignoring how he feels so he shows up where she works, and just says he's in love with her and is fed up with waiting for them to pull their heads out of their asses! Extra fluff please?? You're the best Millie 💛💛💛 - @dreamer821

A/N: JJ! Thank you so much for requesting, and for trusting me with your idea! I truly hope I’ve done it justice! This is a load of fluff - just some good old fluff, because why shouldn't George get that? I’m also 12 followers away from 1000 followers!!!!! which is insane!!! I have a big celebration planned so let's get there! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of war and some swearing BUT THE FLUFF IS SO CUTE.

Word count: 2.2k

The Daily Prophet had a reputation within the wizarding world; it was known globally for its hard-hitting expos on the highest wizards in power across the globe. It had been particularly damning towards Albus Dumbledore upon his fall from grace with the rise of the Dark Lord yet backtracked on their view of the Headmaster upon his death.

You had started work at the publication six months after completing your eighth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Second Wizarding War had disturbed your final year of education. But the defeat of the Dark Lord allowed you to go back to Hogwarts to receive your NEWTs.

The war had taken so much from you; you had lost friends and family members through the Battle of Hogwarts. Memories of the events were burned into your brain; they couldn’t be avoided in the late hours of the night when your tears would fall silently down your face.

However, whilst the war had taken so much from you, it had brought you closer to your oldest friend George Weasley.

Growing up in the next village from Ottery St. Catchpole, the Weasley family were the closest wizarding family to yours other than the Diggory’s. You spent most weekends at The Burrow being spoiled rotten by Molly Weasley. Your parents worked so often; they felt awful for leaving you so much but as you grew older, you reassured them that you really didn’t mind spending time with the Weasley family.

The more time you spent at The Burrow; the more attached you grew to the twins. Being the same age as them, you fell into an easy friendship with them – playing pranks on their elder brothers, practicing Quidditch in the meadow behind their home. The friendship with the twins was something you treasured, and it followed you to Hogwarts where you were sorted into the same house.

Fred and George shouted the loudest when the Sorting Hat cried out Gryffindor after being placed on your head. Your grin matched theirs when you sat down across from them at the table. Charlie patting your shoulder in celebration as you sat next to him.

Your time at Hogwarts was defined by three things; your academic skills, the rising tension about the rebirth of the Dark Lord, and your love for George Weasley.

You consistently came at the top of your class in every subject; spending hours in the library, working on essays and revising topics you could recite like the back of your hand. George lost count how many times he had dragged you out of the library after curfew; after you had promised him just one more hour of studying.

Falling in love with George Weasley was the next natural step in your relationship. Your heart started to race every time he smiled in your direction; feeling your face heat slightly at any attention he gave you. Your skin felt overheated each time he would grab your hand out of the blue; knocking the breath out of you when he did.

Every day you told yourself you’d tell him; you’d confess what you had felt for so long.

Then the war came.

----------

Upon seeing him alive, standing in the Great Hall, covered in dust but his eyes still the brown you had come to love, you had thrown yourself into his arms.

He met you halfway; his arms wrapping tightly around you as he kept you pressed against.

“I thought…” You trail off, tears falling down your face.

George hushes you, “Not in a million years, love.”

You sniffle, your hands patting him down, checking for injuries. “Love, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

You nod rapidly, “I’m okay, not hurt, I just have some cuts and bruises.”

Something in George’s chest relaxes at that; relief flows through his body when your confirm that you’re okay. Through the entire battle, his mind was occupied with you – panicking over where you were and what was happening. Dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of you hurt.

He didn’t want the day to end without him having the chance to tell you how he feels about you.

But when he saw you running through the Great Hall to get to him; he wanted to tell you – wanted to tell you everything, but his mouth couldn’t find the words. So he settles for burying his face in your hair, inhaling the scent he had come to associate with love.

--------

It had been a year since the war ended, since Voldemort’s defeat and yet you hadn’t taken the chance that had been offered so many times.

When you joined him on his walks; the sun shining, his eyes brighter than the week before. There was a chance then to tell him.

When you found him in the kitchen in the Burrow at midnight, making enough hot chocolate for two because he knew you’d join him. In the silence, there was a chance then.

The war had brought you closer together; you started staying at the Burrow more. Molly only too happy to let you stay if it meant that George was starting to sleep through the night without waking from the nightmares of Fred’s near death experience. It had truly scarred George; the moment when he found him unconscious had been the darkest minutes of his life – he felt he had no direction; as if the very reason for his being on earth had been taken away. It had taken time for George to feel like he could let Fred out of his sight.

Chance after chance had presented itself to you, but you wanted to be in a place where you worried about your own mental health as well as his.

The war had been devastating, and whilst it had brought the two of you closer together, it had destroyed part of you that needed time to heal.

You were happy to be his shoulder to cry on when his thoughts got to be too much. For now, you were content with the walks and the midnight hot chocolates.

----------

George had had enough. He couldn’t keep his feelings from you any longer; he was close to combusting from what he felt for you.

Groaning, he lets his head fall onto the kitchen table. Fred laughs at the sight, “Still pining are we, Georgie?”

“I just don’t know how to say it, Freddie.”

“How about something grand?”

“What do you mean?”

“Put on a show, George! We’re the Weasley twins, we’ve never done anything that wasn’t a spectacle.”

George lifts his head from the table, “You’re right but what should I do?”

A smirk breaks out across his twin’s face. Fred has had this planned since he realised the romantic feelings between the two of you and the absolute obliviousness of the both of you.

--------

George fixes his patterned tie in a shop window across the road from the offices. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead but it soon flops back over. He let it grow out after the war and hadn’t had the time to get it cut since. He takes a deep breath, smiling at himself in the window. He can do this, he tells himself.

The doors to the Daily Prophet are never closed; instead, running on revolving doors that journalists and photographers constantly run in and out of. George wonders mindlessly whether any of them get dizzy from running in and out all day, chasing leads and capturing photos.

He shrugs to himself, stepping into the road. His heart is in his mouth with every step he takes towards the doors. His hands shake slightly as he enters the seemingly plain office building, but his breath is always taken away by the ornateness of it once entered. It’s disguised as a simple red brick building for muggles, to keep them off the scent of witches and wizards, but entering the foyer to the building, George wonders if he’ll ever enter a place as grandly decorated.

As he stands in the lift, giving the number of your floor to the lift operator, his voice breaks. He blushes at the sound of it before repeating himself, clearing his throat first.

The lift goes too fast for his liking; the butterflies in his stomach turning into a full blown riot when the doors open to the familiar floor. He had brought you lunch here a thousand times, if not more. Eating at your desk as you worked on another story and George occupied himself by watching you work.

Thinking back on it, George wonders if you’ve realised that he’s in love with you and you haven’t said anything as to not let him down.

He shakes his head clear of that thought, getting off the elevator. He won’t talk himself out of this; not now, not when he has come this close and listened to Fred’s every word.

Your desk is situated to the back of the room; next to the large window that covers the expanse of the wall. It provides a beautiful view of muggle London, but George would argue that the most beautiful view in all of London is you. You’ve pushed your hair back from your face as you shuffle papers on your desk; you huff as a piece of hair falls into your eyes. You’ve rolled the sleeves of your blouse up, exposing the tattoo on your right forearm that you got in memoriam for the family you had lost in the war. It was one of George’s favourite things about you; you were happy to move on, to start living your life again, but you would not forget.

A large smile breaks over your face at the sight of George in your office. He visited so often but you were never bothered by the man you had fallen in love with as a teenager.

“George,” You call, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He waves his hand in a nonchalant manner, “Oh… nothing, I was just in the neighbourhood.”

You glare playfully at the red-headed man, “I don’t believe you for one second, Weasley.”

George gasps, placing a hand on his heart, “You hurt me, (Y/N).”

“Oh hush,” You grin, “How can I help you today, George?”

George takes a deep breath, preparing himself, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“I’m all ears. Anything for you, Georgie.”

He smiles at you softly; overcome with what he feels for you. He’s never loved anyone like this; he’s had crushes in the past but that’s all they were – simple, childish crushes. But this; this is it for him. You’re it for him; if he could propose marriage to you here and now, he would because he knows with every single fibre of his being that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

George swings himself up onto the desk in front of yours; he pauses for a second to see if the desk will take his weight. He smiles satisfied when the desk doesn’t collapse under him – that would definitely ruin his plans for what he has to say.

“What are you doing?” You shout, your hands reaching to pull him down.

George bends at the knee, lowering himself to be closer to your level, “I’m making a grand gesture, love.”

You frown up at him, taking a step closer in case he falls, “You’re what?”

“I’m making a grand gesture, are you ready?”

You look at him with a puzzled expression on your face, but curiosity burns through you. “As I’ll ever be. Show me your grand gesture, George.”

George stands to his full height, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes a deep breath.

Now or never.

“I love you!” George shouts, arms spread as wide as his smiles as he balances precariously on your neighbour’s desk.

You hold a piece of paper to your face to hide the large grin growing across your face at the sight of the man you had loved since you were a teenager declare his feelings for you in such a grand gesture.

Your shoulders shake from the effort of keeping your laughter repressed. This had Fred written all over it, but you knew that George would happily go along with it. It had the Weasley twins written all over it even if it wasn’t one of them declaring their love for you.

“What do you say, love? Do you love me back?” He asks, eyebrows raised, waiting for your answer.

You stay silent for a minute; making him wait. Eileen at the desk to the left of yours throws a ball of paper at your head, “Honey, if you don’t tell him you love him, I will.”

You start to laugh, “Yes, Georgie. I love you too.”

Relief washes over him; making his legs feel like jelly as he jumps down from the desk. The smile doesn’t leave his face once – not as he pulls you in, not as he tilts your face, and not as he finally, after so so long, presses his lips to yours.

“I’ve waited so long to tell you and so long to kiss you,” George whispers when he pulls away.

“I think I’ve waited just as long as you have,” You quip.

“Grand gestures, aye?”

You laugh, kissing him again. It’s a while before you reply, but when you do you’re whispering, “Thank Merlin for grand gestures.”

********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​

George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

[slvrtnge]

» new hideout || DABI x fem! reader

» welcome!

» writing type: fanfic (full writing)

» ship/ relationship: dabi x rem! reader

» warnings: none / fluff

summary: After being chased out of their old hideout by heroes, the LOV goes on the hunt for a new base of operations, lucky for them DABI’s girlfriend is more than willing to share. It's a complete surprise for the LOV, discovering their resident emo is dating who seems to be the softest person on the planet- and also just so happens to be a popular streamer/ youtuber known for defending vigilantes and villains.

Muttered curses escaped Shigaraki’s mouth as he, alongside the rest of the League, only just managed to slip into a maze of alleys and lose their annoyingly loud tail-- Endeavour.

Toga lay collapsed on her back, glaring empty threats at the sun that seemed to latch onto the group’s dark aesthetic and burn them. Beside her, propped against a wall, Twice wrapped bandages around a possibly unconscious-- or dead-looking Spinner.

Amongst the homeless, ragtag group of villains only two appeared unaffected by the situation: Compress, who had previously expressed a need to constantly look confident to play the role of a proper performer; and Dabi, who eerily wore a creepy smile as he glanced over the message on his phone before speedily typing up a response.

Shigaraki, having finally caught onto the unusual smile on his subordinate’s face, quickly spoke up,

“Oi asshole, finally gone batshit insane or got some good news for us?” - a snarl was prominent on his face, not finding nearly as much amusement as Dabi clearly was.

“Don't take a bite at the hand that feeds you, or in this case houses all of our pleb asses.”

It was a simple reply, the tone and vulgar word choice familiar to the group, yet the implications of his words left everyone wide-eyed, leaping up and staring at him with something akin to surprise and ‘genuine’ joy and happiness.

Finally looking up from his burnt and smashed phone, Dabi took a glance over his partners in crime before letting out a sigh, the explaining himself:

“My ‘close acquaintance’ lives nearby-- she’s willing to let us crash at her place as long as we don’t fuck it all up. It’s a big house, practically bordering on a mansion, one and it's got plenty of room and games to play; looking at you handjob.”

Looking down at his phone once more, he clicked the power button on the side and pocketed it, removing himself from where he was leaning on one of the alley walls and walking to the entrance- or exit- of the alley,

“Pick up the pace, it’s either this or the abandoned mental hospital four streets down, and I'd rather not spend the next month or so sleeping in a bathtub that’s most likely seen more deaths than even old handjob here has.”

Resigning to their fate, the rest of the League members composed themselves, before rushing after Dabi: Toga and Twice relentlessly teasing him for finally opening up, and about having a girlfriend of all things.

-----

The League stood before a large gate guarding a picturesque, modern chateau that apparently belonged to their blue-fired emo-- yeah, no way that he didn’t just choose a random house with the residents away to try and impress the rest of them.

“Seriously, Dabi if you wanted us to start killing off the rich sooner you could’ve just said- no need to bring us here for a surprise murder! Personally, I think Dabi’s doing quite well for himself if he’s got a girlfriend this rich: let’s kill her off and steal her inheritance!”

Twice wasn’t doing much to calm everyone’s nerves, having been laying low in abandoned warehouses and crippling houses just short of collapsing, a place that stood directly in the middle of the chaos of the city and held its tall stature alongside the other snobby houses in the street around it was quite the change.

Dabi sneered once more before walking up to the slightly worn keypad at the side of the gate, glancing down at his phone and typing in the code. The rest slightly expected alarms to start blaring, for red and blue lights to start filling their vision as disgusting screeching from police cars pounded on their skulls, but instead: a mechanical clicking could be heard alongside the turning of gears as the gate in front of them pulled apart to let them pass,

“Don't stare all day, believe or not we’re still criminals on the run and the snotty bitches around here won’t hesitate to call the police on us.”

And with that, the League dragged themselves through the gates, mumbling about the distaste of this situation- Toga chasing after Spinner down the driveway, kicking up stones that crumpled under their feet, stirring up dust.

Around the front of the house sat a garden of moss- whether the choice was made for the environment or out of laziness left unclear. A few small fountains are artificial small waterfalls to spread moisture lay around, splattering the surrounding areas with water.

The patio was rather plain, a space to leave neglected packages and mail, alongside a bench and coffee table set that showed signs of weathering. The thing that stood out the most against the withering patio was the large, black, pristine door with a silver handle and two locks-- which just so happened to be left unlocked by a possibly forgetful owner.

The League’s fire user cut through the stunned silence by reaching a hand out to the door and pushing it open, yelling out to his girlfriend who was yet to be seen:

“[y/n], I brought the idiots as you wanted! Where are you?”

A muffled ‘here’ could be heard from across the house, Dabi walking further into the house to find the source, while the others followed like lost ducks.

The group of villains stumbled through a front room, past a dining table and marble kitchen before arriving in a decent-sized room. The dull lighting called attention to the bright flashing and movements on the monitor/ TV. Clicking and clunking made its way to their ears as the girl slumped over in a beanbag surrounded by plushies and teddies of differing sizes. Suddenly, the sound of a distant gunshot blew through the room, blasting from speakers to create a surround sound effect-- Spinner jumped slightly at the disruption while Shigaraki eyed the giant screen which now displayed a ‘game over’ message on it.

The girl seemed upset over the loss, yet quickly placed down her controller and spun around, grabbing a small remote and holding down to turn the lights back to their full brightness- temporarily blinding the members.

In front of them stood a girl with an average build, a cat plushy squished between one arm as she gently smiled at the League- no resemblance of fear, horror or disgust that they were usually greeted with.

“Hello, you’re the League of Villains, right? Please make yourselves at home, just try not to break anything!”

The welcoming grin across her face greatly contrasted the manic one on Dabi’s; full of evil satisfaction at his ‘teammates’ stupefied faces. Meanwhile, only one coherent thought ran through the shocked group’s brains:

‘How the fuck did this dickhead get a girlfriend as sweet as her?’

please do not repost any of my content on other websites, applications, or to your own blogs.

if you encounter any problems regarding hyperlinks, spelling, grammar, people stealing my content, etc. and wish to bring it to my attention either message me or send an ‘ask’ to let me know!

[onlyplatonicirl]

This has been something that’s been on my mind for a while now, so I thought I would write it down and explain my thinking process.

This has nothing to do with the drama I’m in or anything, it’s about the internet as a whole.

The majority of the internet doesn’t understand the difference between these two terms, especially those who try and cancel others. Whether it’s a celebrity who had bad behavior exposed or someone in your friend group, it’s REALLY important to know the difference. So let’s talk about the difference between

EXPLANATIONS and EXCUSES

Let me give an example:

Let’s say you’ve been having an awful time lately. Everything’s been going wrong, and your nerves are completely shot. Your mental health has been declining, and you are starting to become isolated. Someone tries to confront you about it, and you start to scream at them. Maybe you’re even rude to them, or say something that hurts them.

Later on, you realize that you should probably talk to the person you hurt. You find them and sit down with them.

to say an EXCUSE would be to say: “My mental health has been bad lately, so you can’t really fault me for the way I was behaving.”

this is absolutely not ok. When someone tries to give an excuse, they are basically saying that they shouldn’t be held accountable, and that it is not their fault. They may feel sorry that they hurt you, but they will continue the narrative that whatever happened was in no way on them. This is a really shitty way to confront yourself when under fire or when wanting to say sorry, and it’s a big reason why a lot of YouTuber apologies fail. Even if they truly know what happened was wrong, they will deny that they had any fault.

to say an EXPLANATION would be to say: “I’m really sorry for the way I treated you, it wasn’t fair of me to do so. My mental health has been really bad lately, and you caught me at a breaking point, and I couldn’t control my emotions. I should have recognized where those emotions would lead, and I should have found a different way to channel my feelings instead of hurting you.”

Some of you might say “oh well this is still an excuse because so-and-so just brought up their mental health again”, and that’s where your wrong. In the context of this discussion, it is used as an explanation. The person is not blaming their behavior on their mental health, they are offering context to why they reacted the way they did, but are still putting the fault on themselves.

Why is this important?

Because we’re all humans. We all have moments that we are not proud of. We all have flaws and we all say things that we regret, things that keep us up at night and make our stomachs turn.

And what we need to recognize, is that EVERYONE is a human. You cannot write someone off as someone malicious for a flaw or something that was said in the moment that shows bad taste. This is how cancel culture operates, and I’d argue that with the extremely quick leap to conclusions that people take upon hearing something about someone’s poor behavior, they only make the situation worse. 

When we are put on the spot and need to explain ourselves, especially those who are in the public eye, it is very important to explain yourself. As a human, you have every right to defend yourself and offer insight as to what happened from your perspective.

Explanations can help you justify yourself and demonstrate that your actions were the kind of things that any other person would do. If someone’s confronted for getting physical, they have the right to say that the person was making them scared and invading their space past the point of comfort. It does NOT excuse the behavior, but it gives the listener a chance to understand that the person that is under fire didn’t just walk up to a random civilian and clock him in the nose. There is always context to these sort of issues.

I know I’ve been talking for a while now, and you probably understand my point by now. But there is one last thing I would like to address.

It is also your right as a human to not forgive. You should always do a careful assessment before you do this, but if don’t want to accept their apology you don’t have to. You have the right to cut the person who hurt you out of your life and never speak to them again, as long as you live (Although in many cases this would be a really dick move if you know they are struggling and truly sorry.) If a content creator on the internet apologies for certain shitty actions, and you don’t feel like accepting the apology, you don’t have to. You can like and dislike whoever you chose, it is your right.

BUT

This DOES NOT mean that you have a right to spam someone, to stalk/harass them, to doxx them, to constantly bring up past drama/mistakes that they are trying to move on from, to spread exaggerated falsehoods in an attempt to “cancel” them, to get back at them by smearing their name in the mud or exposing private messages all over the internet. This behavior is unacceptable. 

You make think you are being a hero and standing up to bad people, but you may only be making everything worse. (This obviously does not go for nazis, homophobes, and other ignorant hatred-based opinions. This goes for people who you can tell are not based in hate or mal-intent.)

Instead, just move on with your life, block them if you want. You are free to give your opinion on why you don’t agree with them, but it is beyond disrespectful to call people disgusting, awful, evil, or manipulative when they are not showing outright and blatant behaviors of this.

So in conclusion, or tl;dr:

Excuses are blaming your actions on something else. Explanations are owning up to your actions but providing context on what your mindset was and what made you to what you did. When someone is offering an explanation, you should always listen, but you are free to dislike them if you still wish. But this does not give a right to treat them badly.

Thanks for reading. I kinda popped off lol.

[hqxreader]

your writing is very good keep up the good work ( ꈍᴗꈍ) can I request headcanons with Yamaguchi and Kenma with a very popular s/o that even has their own fanclub (*´ω｀*)

Hi Anon! Thank you for the compliment!! 

I’m sorry this has taken so long! I was writing Hirugami, then jumping from request to request, then took a break, then back to Hirugami, I’m sorry!!! I’m not quite sure if this is what you wanted...?? But we’re gonna roll with it haha, I hope you enjoy! 💕💕

Yamaguchi and Kenma with a very popular s/o who has a fan club

Warnings: Mmm.. A seriously horrible joke in Kenma’s. Mentally prepare yourself, please don’t leave after reading it. Other than that, nada

Yamaguchi Tadashi

✦ We all know Yams is a shy guy and can get insecure at times.

✦ So when you have people constantly wanting to talk to you, smiling and laughing with you, Yams kinda feels like.. Hmm.. 

✦ You don’t really need him? You seem perfectly happy with your fan club, you know?

✦ So what do you need him around for? (poor babes, let me give him a hug) 

✦ Yamaguchi starts to detach himself from your life, if it’s lunch and all your fans and popular peeps come over to chit chat, he makes up some sort of excuse to get away and eat with Tsukki instead. 

✦ After a few days, you finally fully realize that your boyfriend’s been making excuses to get out of eating lunch with you, and you weren’t gonna lie it did sting.

✦ You felt as if he was avoiding you for some reason, was he unhappy with your relationship? Did you do something wrong? Did he want to break up?? 

✦ So the next day when he comes up with an excuse to leave you during lunch, you simply tell him, “No.” And you’ll be eating with him today without your fan club. 

✦ He was a bit shocked at first, but then happiness took over. No fan club surrounding and distracting you, just Him, you and Tsukki (third-wheeling sadly) 

✦ Yamaguchi was so happy that day during lunch, he couldn’t help but forget about his lunch and just stare at you with googly eyes the whole time 🥺💕

Kozume Kenma

✦ I think this might be a bit ooc, but I think at first, Kenma might not really care??

✦ Like, he’s got his video games, he’s content ya know?

✦ But when he can’t concentrate while playing because they’re being so loud and they’re giving you love letters too?? Well hq we have a problem (get it? Haikyuu? Headquarters? Ha.. ok.) 

✦ Kuroo decides to set up operation: ‘Cool The Fan clubs Jets’

✦ After a pep talk and reassurance from Kuroo that everything would be fine, when you two are walking home together Kenma decides to bring up the subject,

✦ “I don’t like your fan club.”

✦ Well, that’s a way to do it.

✦ You were confused nonetheless, what had your fan club done to your boyfriend? Were they talking about him behind your back? Giving him rude notes? Teasing him? 

✦ “Why don’t you like them? Did they do something?” “I just don’t like them.”

✦ *Cue Kuroo groaning as he sneaks behind you both because jeez he and Kenma practiced this*

✦ “You just don’t like them?” “Yup.” “You can’t just not like someone, there has to be some reason.”

✦ Out of the corner of his eye, Kenma saw Kuroo gesturing him to continue on.

✦ “They’re really loud.. And they give you love letters even though we’re dating.. It’s weird y/n..” 

✦ Poor babe is so awkward and nervous saying this, but hey, he’s telling you how he feels.

✦ And you understand him, you’re also a bit annoyed how they’re butting in on your conversations with your boyfriend.

✦ “I don’t even read those letters, Kenma. I give them back.” “Oh..” 

✦ After that conversation, the two of you settled things out; you would talk to your fan club about cooling their jets and hopefully stop with the letters, and you two would sit alone at lunch once again.

Thanks! I hope you enjoyed! 💕

Taglist: @yams046 @pepperskullss @kkoalaworld @sachirou-senpai @osamusriceballz @edvigelacivetta @tris-does-stuff @ylxxia @the-broken-halo-writer

[yslkook]

#customer centric (4)

#corporate masterlist summary: you arrive in tokyo and spend a few days catching up and reminiscing. jin comes as well, with a few old friends that you haven’t seen in years. Or, you wander around the city visiting familiar places and go to a club with people you haven’t called friends in years. word count: 8656 warnings: cursing, parental death, discussion of mental health, lots of alcohol a/n: this is part 1/2 of being in tokyo!! this is the top i envisioned for oc lol

You missed Tokyo, and Tokyo missed you. The city itself brings bittersweet memories to you, memories of your childhood with your dead father and grandmother passing through your mind as if you’re watching a movie.

Your dad had brought you to Tokyo every summer when you were young, until you were about seventeen or eighteen. Tokyo had become more of a second home than a vacation place for you.  You haven’t been here since college, about two years before your dad passed away. But despite that, it feels like home.

You can read, write, and speak Japanese fluently, which is part of the reason why you’ve been such an integral part of the team so far. The company’s sister branch is in Tokyo, and it’s not your first time visiting the branch, or interacting with your team members based in Tokyo.

You’ve wondered often, quite bitterly, if your fluency in Japanese is the only reason you’re even still on the team. Your boss and his boss at least trust you enough to be the responsible party for your team- there’s only one other member of your team here, Sana. But she’s relatively new, so the responsibility has fallen onto you.

That’s alright. You operate well under pressure.

You’re joined by your small knit team, Sana, Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon had managed to finagle with the budget enough that you could arrive a day early, on Friday, and spend the weekend in Tokyo before the workshops began on Monday.

And Seokjin would be flying in on Saturday morning with some of his friends. You’re grateful that at least Jin was coming. Whenever Jin makes these spontaneous types of trips, they’re bound to be eventful. 

Monday and Tuesday will be filled with workshops, proposals and pitch meetings. You made Jin promise that he’d spend time with you during the weekend, so that you could show him some of the treasures you remembered from the city. Despite your many years of friendship, you had never been to Tokyo with Jin and you want to show him some of the places Appa used to take you to.

You’re excited. Even if Jungkook, with his big, sparkling eyes and his natural curiosity is coming along. Seeing him, even though it’s been well over three months that he joined the company, sends you down a dangerous path that isn’t fair to him or to you.

You have to constantly remind yourself that it’s not his fault and you shouldn’t be mean to him. It’s not his fault that your boss and his boss are out for your blood and refuse to give you recognition. But you can’t help but feel like he’s part of the problem that has faced you for the last three years. Part of the same awful old school, conservative mindset that so many of your peers were part of as well.

The leadership at your company needed a drastic overhaul, but you would be the last person to voice those thoughts out loud. Unless it was to Jin. 

You know Jungkook doesn’t deserve your unspoken rage. You can admit that, but you’re not saint enough to channel it somewhere else. You’ve mellowed out considerably from the initial few months, but you could stand to be a little warmer to him.

After all, the way his bunny smile takes up half of his face when he offers it up to someone so worthy… that means nothing to you.

You arrive in Tokyo with your team at around eleven AM, and you check into your hotel rooms about an hour later. Jungkook and Sana had planned the logistics of the trip, from the hotel to the taxi service to lunch, dinner, and the company sponsored happy hour on Monday and Tuesday. 

Because you were in Tokyo for work, you fully planned on using your company card to the fullest for the next few days. This company could kiss your ass, and you would be more than willing to spend as much as you needed to as a subtle ‘fuck you’. It was your version of flipping off your boss, for when he would have to approve your expense report sheet. 

Namjoon had given you Friday to yourselves, to get acquainted with the hotel room and the area itself. Sana and Jungkook had done a good job with choosing the hotel- it has a wonderful view of the city from the rooftop, and being inside the sophisticated hotel with it’s hues of black and white and pops of color and elegance. This regal building screams opulence and you’re bathing in the luxurious feel of it all.

The diamonds of the chandeliers hanging high above you glint in the dim light of the lobby, bouncing off of the sleek, black piano and adding to the romantic air. Was this a love hotel? You scoff to yourself, keeping your head down as you exit the hotel and head in the direction of your favorite park, the Happo-en Garden. 

When you had told your therapist that you’d be coming to Tokyo for the first time since your father’s death, she had immediately picked up on your hesitation-

“It feels weird to be there without him. Almost like the place doesn’t exist if he doesn’t,” You scoff, wringing your hands together.

“It certainly exists without him. And you do, too,” She says kindly, “Maybe you’ll feel close to him when you go there.”

And she was right, as she usually is. You sit alone at a freshly painted red bench with a box of street snacks, including some of Appa’s favorites. The sunshine glimmers against the still lake in front of you, hues of green fading to orange and red reflecting in the murky water. 

This park was a favorite of Appa’s-

“We’re still in Tokyo, but it feels like we’re so far away. Right, sweetheart?” He asks, dark eyes shining. Appa’s hand tightens around yours and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah! Like we’re close to the princess’s castle!” You gasp.

“That’s right, but the only princess I see here is you,” Appa smiles and you beam at him, all smiles and sunshine.

The memory is from when you were maybe seven or eight years old. Everytime you came to Tokyo with Appa, you always came to this park. Specifically to this area, where Appa claimed that the sun shined on the leaves and the water in a specific way that made everything feel like magic.

You had always scoffed at him, especially as you grew older and the lines around his eyes grew deeper. But you still entertained him. You never saw that magic that Appa claimed to see, but now, you wonder how you could ever not see it.

A breeze ruffles through the trees, whistling as it threads through your hair and running over the water. The clouds part for a moment, allows a burst of sunbeams to spread over the water and you gasp at the sudden golden filter over the surroundings in front of you.

Another breeze, one from your left side, presses against your shoulder and your cheek. Almost like it’s whispering to you. You whip your head to the side, only to find nothing next to you. You feel like you’re floating, with the gentle caress of the wind to keep you company.

You eat your snacks in silence, embracing the way that it feels like the wind is Appa’s caress against your skin.

By the time you return to the hotel, the sun is beginning to go down and a bittersweet sort of happiness settles in your heart. You feel closer to your dad than you have in a long time- this city was bound to feel like home with its welcoming arms curling around you warmly. You had spent the better part of the day visiting old sights and places that you had frequented to with Appa. 

It was peaceful, like a walk down memory lane. You could almost see your younger self bursting at the seams with joy at all of the new places. You could almost see her so eager to learn and demanding that Appa teach you Japanese immediately.

You wonder where that girl went. She’s lost, buried beneath layers and layers and maybe someday you’ll find her again.

Stopping by one of your favorite restaurants, you order all of your favorites times three. For your colleagues to have something to feast on when you returned from your day trip. You hadn’t been on your phone for most of the day, choosing to mute the group chat with your colleagues so you could truly be alone. 

Once you approach the familiar blue neon sign of the restaurant, you send them a text:

you: evening all. dont worry about dinner, Im bringing lots of food back sana: look who woke up from her coma namjoon: did you put it on your card? you: of course i did. you dont have to remind me joon ;)  you: want to have dinner together? jungkook: ya where should we eat Namjoon: come to my room, it’s room 1804 you: ok, be there in about thirty min

With your heart feeling full, brimming with fondness for your teammates, you pay for the heavy bags of food and make your way back to the hotel. You can’t help but smile as you walk with a little pep in your step.

“You should have asked one of us to help you,” Jungkook says reproachfully, taking half the bags from you.

Your arms ache, not that you’ll admit your stubbornness. You only smile sheepishly, “It was only a fifteen minute walk.”

“And this is a lot of food,” Jungkook muses, peeking inside as his doe eyes sparkle in anticipation.

“It’s our first team dinner in Tokyo. We deserve it,” You shrug.

“I also bought a few bottles of wine,” Sana chirps, dangling two bottles of red in her hands, “We deserve it.”

You laugh and she winks at you. Namjoon is already setting up the many boxes of food on the mahogany wooden desk in the corner of the room. The curtains are pulled back, affording you of a breathtaking view of the city lights and the now hanging moon high in the sky.

“The boss has the best view, huh?” You tease, nudging his shoulder.

“Jungkook picked it,” Namjoon shrugs, “I just wanted to share the view with you all.”

“How sweet of you,” You say sincerely, “Dinner with a view. That’s pretty romantic. And Jungkook has good taste.”

Jungkook’s ears flush at your praise and he covers his ears for a second. Not that you notice. You sit on the floor, across from Jungkook and offer to scoop food onto everyone’s plates for them. You ignore their protests and do it anyway, quietly asking how much of each they want. Sana fills up plastic cups with wine and labels everyone’s cup with a black marker so you can all keep track of them.

“How classy of us,” Namjoon snorts but says thank you to Sana.

“Did you bring wine glasses in your luggage?” Sana shoots at Namjoon, “I didn’t think so.”

You stifle your laugh behind your hand and shake your head. “Feels like college, if only those cups were red,” You joke.

“My roommate still uses red cups sometimes, for casual purposes,” Jungkook says softly, “It drives me up the wall. Like, can you drink out of a normal cup or what? I get flashbacks to beer pong almost every morning.”

You laugh a little harder at that, and the sound is sweet in Jungkook’s ears. He wants to see if he can get you to laugh like that a little more.

“I mean, we’re grown now. I can’t believe Taehyung sometimes, having his morning orange juice in a red solo cup. It’s heinous.”

Your eyes are overflowing with mirth, the sound of your genuine happiness echoing in Jungkook’s ears and he can’t help but smile in return.

“Morning orange juice,” You mutter, “That’s adorable. Taehyung? That’s the name of your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, “We did undergrad together and he’s an aspiring art gallery curator. He’s actually coming here tomorrow-”

“Wait, hang on,” You say after chewing through a mouthful of noodles, “Is this Taehyung, as in Kim Taehyung who you snuck into that bar with and he ended up getting absolutely hammered and stealing three bottles of alcohol? Before getting kicked out and Jin and I took you both home? That Taehyung?”

The fondness with which you speak of Taehyung unnerves Jungkook. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, “That Taehyung.”

“Sounds like a real class act,” Sana says dryly.

“Wow, I haven’t seen him in years,” You exhale, “I think Jin’s bringing some friends from college tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, he mentioned a Jimin and a Hoseok,” Namjoon adds.

“Damn, Sana, maybe we should’ve brought our friends, too,” You murmur, teasing but honestly, you don’t really have anyone you would’ve asked to bring, “Can’t wait to see what this boys weekend brings.”

You fully anticipate that Seokjin will rope you into whatever shenanigans they have planned, and you don’t even feel bad about crashing. You make a mental note to let Sana know of whatever plans they invited you to, so that she wouldn’t feel left out.

They don’t ask where you were all day, and for that you’re grateful. The lines of professionalism are beginning to blur for you, and you don’t want to burden them with your feelings and problems. You don’t want them to think differently of you for trying to catch a glimpse of Appa in your memories. 

Jin would say you were being silly, but you can’t help it. Maybe someday, but not today.

But Jungkook does wonder. Where were you all day? When the group chat was going off, you were silent. It was none of his business, but he’s curious. And he’s curious about you. You hadn’t changed out of your day clothes or taken your makeup off. He can see the nearly gone darkened stain of your gloss on your lips and the curl of your lashes. Jungkook keeps his eyes above your neck, knowing that if his eyes begin to wander he would be even more of a goner than he already was.

It’s September in Tokyo, meaning that it was warm during the day and somewhat chilly in the evenings. Your dark green long sleeved shirt is tucked into your shorts, complete with a black belt, leaving your tanned thighs on display. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from your shorts, but he thinks he imagines it. 

Until your shorts ride up just a little and he sees an array of colors and the fleeting sight of a flower on your upper thigh. Jungkook swallows nervously and stuffs his face full of udon noodles without hesitation. If his mouth is stuffed with food, then nobody will look twice at him and he can keep his thoughts to himself and ogle at you in peace. 

The logic makes sense in his head.

Your voice carries over to Namjoon, telling him that you’ll be picking Seokjin, Jimin and Hoseok up in the morning with the rental car.

“Hey, if Taehyung is arriving at the same time, do you want me to pick him up?” You ask, turning your gaze to Jungkook.

“Huh?” Jungkook asks. You roll your eyes.

“Taehyung. If he arrives at the same time as Jin, Jimin and Hoseok, do you want me to pick him up?”

“Er,” Jungkook says eloquently, “He’s actually been here for the last week. Thanks, though.”

You want to say that Jin would cause a scene and whine at you if you didn’t pick him up from the airport, the prince that he is. But you keep it to yourself- after all, he’s somewhat of a boss to Jungkook and Sana. 

You nod in understanding and shove more noodles and meat into your mouth. You stretch your legs out in front of you and Jungkook doesn’t look away, instead allowing his eyes to rake over you shamelessly. Nevermind that Namjoon and Sana are right next to him, probably wondering why he’s staring you down so intensely.

The four of you spend the rest of the evening discussing your plans for the weekend, avoiding the topic of work altogether. It’s nice, you can almost believe that you’re all just four friends making a weekend getaway without the confines of work looming over your heads.

Namjoon offers to split the remaining food amongst the four of you and puts equal amounts of everything into each container for all of you to take back to your rooms.

And then Sana pours more wine for each of you and you feel yourself beginning to get more and more relaxed with each sip you take. You want to open your stitched together lips, tell them how it’s been so long since you’ve had alcohol with anyone who wasn’t Jin. You want to tell them that you like red wine more than white wine, but nothing beats soju-

“What’s your favorite kind of wine,” Jungkook asks. He comes to sit next to you on the floor, stretching his legs out. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel something like electricity at the soft touch.

“Um… I like reds over white wine. But I haven’t had that many reds to say which kind is my favorite,” You muse.

“Guess we’ll have to try some more red wine, huh?” Jungkook says, his eyes sparkling and bunny smile on display. 

Your heart warms and sputters at the same time.

“Yeah,” You nod breathlessly, “What about you? What do you like?”

“I’m not picky. I don’t really like cabernet,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “Too bitter for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You giggle, unable to believe that such a noise is coming out of your mouth. Despite Sana and Namjoon having their own conversation on the other side of the room, it feels like it’s just you and Jungkook for a minute in your own bubble.

“I like a good chardonnay, too. Nice ‘n crisp.”

“Me too, I love that crisp taste of a good white wine,” You reply, unable to keep your eyes off of him for longer than a second. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are a pretty pink and you wonder if his cheeks are as warm as yours are.

“Thought you didn’t like white wine?” Jungkook murmurs, head tilting inquisitively. 

“I prefer red, but if there’s white wine in front of me, I mean,” You shrug, “It’s not like ‘m gonna say no.”

“Oh? We’ll have to test that out, too,” Jungkook smiles, “I like soju the best. Nothin’ beats soju.”

“Yeah, peach and green grape,” You say knowingly, “The only flavors with rights.”

“Exactly. You get me,” Jungkook nods with wide eyes. He asks you about Tokyo, if you come here often. You answer him somewhat vaguely, but tell him that you grew up reading, writing and speaking Japanese. He looks impressed by that and the fondness in the lines of his lips startles you.

You chalk it up to the romance of this city making you soft and pliant to his doe eyes and the warmth of his smile. He’s so easy to get lost in- you find yourself leaning closer to him to hear what he has to say about his own travel dreams. He wants to go to New York City and Bangkok and Athens- the way his eyes light up constricts around your heart.

Every part of him radiates warmth and you want to be draped by it. He says something that makes you smile and laugh, and you swat at his shoulder reflexively. Jungkook only looks at you in that way. The way that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s good at that.

He has hearts and stars in his eyes for you and it makes you choke.

Maybe you had imagined it all because you remember where you are. You’re in your boss’s hotel room and he’s standing right there. Jungkook sees the spark in your eyes disappear immediately and you pull away just as quickly, as if the moment had never happened.

He won’t deny the sting, but you’re so easy to get lost in. The fog in his mind clears, and while it’s only been a few minutes that you’ve been alone. It feels like much longer. But Namjoon and Sana are still deep in conversation, his dimples on display and her smile bright.

You pull away but your dark eyes are still wide and focused on him, stars swirling in your irises and Jungkook thinks he might fall into this wonderfully brown abyss held in your pretty face. Finally, you move away from him on the floor, almost immediately missing his warmth. You look back at him as you move to get some water, the same curious look on your face.

Your face is burning, and you’re surprised you’re able to keep this cool for this long. The urge to bolt from Namjoon’s hotel room and back to your own is one that you have to fight. But instead, you stay planted where you are. Jungkook confuses you, you hardly even know him and you had let him get so close to you. It’s not something you usually do, but what unnerves you is how nice it felt. The closeness of him, his eyes on you and only you. Are you bothered by it? 

No, you realize. No. You quite liked it. You’re supposed to hate him- he represents everything you hate. A young kid, a boy, raising quickly through the ranks of your corporate world, while you grasp at straws. 

Does he? Does he represent everything you hate? What a load of bullshit.

You swallow again. You need to leave.

“Hey, Joon,” You say softly, touching his elbow, “I’m going to head out. It’s getting late and I’ve gotta head out early tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He’d made you so uncomfortable that you were abruptly cutting your night short. Because of him. He needs to make this right.

“I’ll walk with you,” The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth before he can stop them. His heart is pounding in his ears- he needs to apologize before you hate him even more.

“Okay,” You reply with a smile, “Here are your leftovers.”

“I’ll walk with you both,” Sana says, taking her bag.

With that, you say your goodbyes and leave Namjoon’s room to the elevators. Your head feels like static, a wave of thoughts congealing into something impenetrable. The doors ding shut, all three of you standing on opposite ends of the elevator. You can’t look at Jungkook, you can’t see his doe eyes. Not right now.

Sana calls your name, “Thanks for the food.”

“No problem, Sana,” You murmur, “See you tomorrow.”

And then it’s just you and Jungkook in the elevator. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says immediately, “I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. If you don’t wanna talk to me outside of work, I get it-”

“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. You take a step forward, close enough to him that you’re in his orbit. “You didn’t… You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Jungkook. I would have told you if you did. You just… confuse me.”

The last bit comes out as a vulnerable whisper and all Jungkook can do is nod. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You say clearly, casting him a look over your shoulder as you exit the elevator. Your eyes are guarded once more, as if the night hadn’t happened. As if he hadn’t fallen for you even further. You wash him away from your bloodstream quickly and Jungkook feels his heart aching once more.

By the time you pick up Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok from the airport and arrive at the hotel, it’s nearly noon. The car ride back was fun, dare you say it. It amazed you how Jin still remained close in contact with people you went to college with. It felt natural, talking to Jimin and Hoseok. As if years hadn’t gone by.

They were hot, and that was your first assessment when you had met them at the airport. Jimin and Hoseok had both embraced you in tight hugs, without any regard for whether you wanted one or not. You found that you didn’t really mind.

You didn’t know how you were going to survive this weekend surrounded by these many attractive people. 

“We should celebrate. For this reunion,” Hoseok says.

“Jungkook is here, too,” You reply, “A great big university reunion right here in Tokyo, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you guys work together now,” Jimin says.

“Wait, you guys are friends still?” You ask.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Jimin says, genuine confusion in the handsome planes of his face.

You suppose everyone else is better at making and maintaining friendships than you are. It stings a little, having so many people from university in the same place. In the city that already holds so many memories for you. But you’ll embrace it, because that’s what you’ve been working on. Embracing change.

And of course, what was a boys weekend without a night out at the club? Jin had all but demanded that you come, in true dramatic fashion- I can’t go out without you, you know. I can’t believe you’re considering leaving me like this. I’ll die there without you.

It didn’t take much from you to roll your eyes but agree and tell him that you were inviting Sana.

“Go pregame and get ready with your boys,” You had urged him, “It’s so rare you all are together like this. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Are you sure?” Jin asked with uncertainty and you had only smiled warmly at him. 

“Yes, Seokjin. I’m sure. I’ll be crashing the party soon, don’t worry,” You reassured him and he left your hotel room. He promised to text you when to come and you just nodded, shooing him away.

That had been nearly two hours ago, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup with Sana getting ready in the bathroom. Music is playing through your phone and once you’re done with your lip gloss, you make drinks and prepare shots for you and Sana.

“You’ve gotta tell me how you’re friends with so many hot men,” Sana says, taking a seat on the bed.

You scoff, “I’m really only friends with Jin. The rest of them come with Jin, we’re hardly friends.”

“Oh?” Sana asks with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow, “You all went to school together, right?”

“Yeah… Something like that,” You say lightly, “Jin kept in touch with all of them. I didn’t.”

You leave it at that and Sana knows not to press further.

“They’re all nice guys. I always had fun with them,” You say fondly, “You will, too.”

“Cheers to that,” Sana grins, “We look hot. Let’s take a picture.”

“Should we send it to our boss,” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, that would send him off the deep end. He’d be here in five seconds, dragging us out by our ears,” Sana rolls her eyes as well with a laugh.

You try your best to make Sana feel as comfortable as she can with you. At least so that she’s comfortable when you go meet up with the guys later. You know it can be intimidating being around people who are so close, but they’ve always been welcoming.

It begs the question- why did you let them all go?

You don’t have time to unpack all of that. By the time Jin texts you, telling you to come to his suite on the eighteenth floor, you and Sana are three drinks and two shots in.

You’ve drank more in the last two days than you have in the last year alone. At least that’s what it feels like. 

You make sure to take your hotel card, phone and wallet and ensure that Sana does as well. Giggles erupt from the both of you when you enter the elevator, and excitement thrums in your veins. The liquid courage bouncing around in your veins makes you feel relaxed and you tug Sana’s hand out of the elevator once the steel doors open.

You text Jin from outside his door, you can already hear the loud peals of laughter and the beat of music through the walls. You wonder if they’ve gotten any noise complaints yet, but probably not- his room is the only one on this side of the hotel. He probably did this on purpose.

When he doesn’t answer your text, you decide to knock obnoxiously and Sana giggles at your impatience. On your fifth knock, the door swings open and you see Jin’s tipsy face complete with reddened cheeks and his broad smile. 

He hugs you like he hasn’t seen you in years, he even lifts you off of the ground a little bit. Your heart flutters with affection for him as you whine for him to put you down.

“Jin!” You shriek, “At least go inside, dummy- stop embarrassing me-”

He finally puts you down and holds you by the shoulders to take you in. His eyes are sharp and he says nothing as he assesses your outfit, apparently deeming you as acceptable as he waves you inside. He says hello to Sana, who returns his mellowed out hug graciously.

Jin hands you both full cups, and you trust Jin enough to know it’s a yummy but strong drink. You grip your cup tighter and allow Sana to go in front of you. The last thing you want is for her to feel left out, so you want the guys to be introduced to her first.

Besides, they all already knew you.

Jin does the introductions quickly, the guys all warming up to Sana and bringing her in for hugs as well. Her cheeks are flushed, and you knew she’d feel flustered. They’re intense in their friendliness and it would make anyone feel flustered and warm.

And then their eyes land on you and you wish you could melt into the floor. Six pairs of eyes stare back at you- apparently Yoongi had also decided to come as well. 

College reunion indeed.

You stay close to Jin, offering them a weak wave of your fingers and a smile. 

“Hello boys,” You say dramatically,  “Long time no see.”

“Jin’s been hiding you all to himself, hasn’t he?” Jimin says, not bothering to hide the way he’s looking at you. And you don’t mind, not really- you know you look good.

“I just saw you this morning. When I picked your sorry ass up from the airport,” You reply and Jimin pouts at you as everyone around you laughs at his expense. 

“Still so mean,” Jimin murmurs and you roll your eyes.

And with that, alcohol continues to flow as the chatter continues on.

You cast another glance to Sana, making sure she’s not by herself. You relax when you see her talking to Yoongi and Hoseok, smiling to yourself at how quickly she takes to them.

“Hey pretty,” Jimin says, seeing you near the alcohol and joining you.

“Hey you,” You parrot back and he smiles at you in that sweet, disarming way, “Want a drink?”

“You always made the best drinks,” Jimin says, handing his cup over to you. You ignore the way your chest tightens at his use of past tense.

“Maybe you just never knew how to make drinks,” You murmur, “Probably still don’t, huh?”

Jimin laughs lightly at that as a silence falls between you both. “You look good,” Jimin exhales, “You doin’ alright?”

You never know what to say to that. “Yeah. You look good, Jimin. You doin’ alright?” 

“Yeah. I’m still in Seoul at the dance school. Don’t be such a stranger,” Jimin murmurs and before you can protest, he pokes your forehead affectionately. 

“You’ll ruin my makeup,” You complain but give him a small smile, “Jimin. ‘M glad to see you. All of you.”

Jimin looks like he wants to say something more. But he bites his tongue. This isn’t the place to pick a petty fight, so he lets it go. Jungkook approaches you both, resting his arm on Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin groans dramatically and Jungkook only offers him a smile and a giggle.

“Cup’s empty,” Jungkook says, wiggling his cup to both of you, “Stop hoggin’ the alcohol.”

“Blame Jimin. Everything’s his fault,” You tease and Jimin rolls his eyes at you both.

“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook grins and Jimin slips out from under Jungkook with another roll of his eyes. “Hey, you met Taehyung yet? My roommate? You ‘member him?”

His eyes are slick with alcohol, and yet they still sparkle at you like you hold all of the answers to the universe in them. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. It unnerves you, like many things about him do.

“No, where is he?”

Jungkook shouts for Taehyung to join him and you wince. All of a sudden his sandy haired roommate pops up from the direction of the living area and joins you at the drinks table. He looks a far cry from the boy you had driven home that night many years ago.

You knew being in the presence of so many attractive people was going to kill all of your brain cells by the end of the night.

Taehyung calls your name and nerves seize you inexplicably. 

“You remember me?” The words escape your lips before your brain has a chance to stop them.

“Course I do? The pretty girl who saved Kook and I at that one bar that I’m still banned from?” Taehyung grins, his eyes sweet and sincere.

“Jin was with me too, don’t forget him,” You say dryly, “Nice to see you again after all this time. And you’re Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Unfortunately,” Jungkook chimes in, earning him a laugh from you.

Taehyung is magnetic when he speaks to you, honey dripping from his tongue as he tells you about his journey as an aspiring art museum curator. Passion lights up his dark irises, his smile matching the intensity of it and you’re certain he has this effect on everyone he speaks to. They’re both so close to you, in your bubble and the scent of their cologne wafts into your nose. 

You drink more. You don’t know how to cope with all of this. So you drink.

Jungkook tells you that they’ve been roommates all through graduate school and they had recently moved into a new, bigger place. Now that they were both making a little more money. You find yourself benignly jealous of the life they live- two close friends living together and living for these kinds of nights with their other close friends. The bond they built and strengthened over the years is obvious in the way Taehyung holds Jungkook close, the way Hoseok lights up the entire room and makes everyone smile just because he’s smiling, the way Yoongi and Jimin bicker like an old married couple… Namjoon has already slotted himself within the group. Jin probably introduced him to them a while back, you realize.

Jungkook excuses himself to use the bathroom, leaving his cup next to Taehyung on the table. Taehyung’s gaze makes you nervous- the shift in his eyes is apparent as he lazily rakes his eyes over you.

“Kook told me he was workin’ with you again,” Taehyung murmurs, “What he didn’t tell me was how pretty you are.”

“What a line,” You say flatly and roll your eyes. To your surprise, he laughs, his smile making you smile as well.

“Just bein’ honest,” Taehyung shrugs, “‘Snot everyday you see our hot grad school girl after five years.”

“You’re full of it,” You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully, “‘Our?’”

“Jungkook was-” Taehyung starts but he’s interrupted by the man himself. Jungkook was what?

“You talkin’ about me?” Jungkook says, elbowing Taehyung. Taehyung only shakes his head and hands him his cup, before excusing himself. He throws you another charming smile and if you weren’t so on edge, your knees might have buckled.

“He’s…” 

“A pain in the ass?” Jungkook supplies, “Yeah.”

“No, I was gonna say he’s interesting,” You laugh. A short silence settles between you both, giving you a moment to really take him in. You itch your chin nervously before pushing your lips to the rim of your cup and watching him.

You’ve always known that Jungkook was somehow handsome, sexy and cute all at the same time- wide, doe eyes, pinchable cheeks, pretty smile, and then his body… His thighs strain against the tight material of his pants and you’re certain it’s deliberate. His button up shirt is loose but still molds to his muscles in that way where it leaves you wanting more. His shirt is buttoned at the elbow, giving you a peek to the smattering of tattoos on his forearm. His dark hair is parted in the middle, all soft and shiny, and a little long. It settles over his forehead, almost in his eyes, effortlessly. Two hoops in each ear glint in your direction and you swallow nervously.

Jungkook catches you looking at his tattoos- how ironic, considering he’s doing the same of you. The satin black top you’re wearing has a plunging neckline, giving him a view of the tattoos stemming from your upper arm to your clavicle.

It also offers him a teasing hint of your bare chest where if you turn to the side just a little, he catches a glimpse of even more. It makes him swallow, just as nervous as you. The top itself is loose, only cinched a little at the waist but your pants are tight, your strappy heels adding even more dimension to your legs.

You nervously twist the layering of gold necklaces around your neck. Jungkook has always thought you were beautiful, but he’s never seen you like this. Not even when he knew you years ago.

“Your cup’s empty again,” You laugh nervously, offering to make him another drink. You don’t know what to do with your hands, wanting to keep busy.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes, “Yeah.”

He tries to keep his eyes on your hands, really he does. But you bend forward just a little and his eyes immediately flit to your plentiful chest. 

Jungkook thinks he might die, and what a way to go.

You pull away from the table, handing him his drink and he thanks you quietly. Jungkook ignores the way your eyes shine curiously at him, and he buries himself in the confusion fuzzing up his mind.

Jin, to your relief, pulls you away from Jungkook before you can do something incredibly stupid. Like let him burst through your carefully structured walls even further than he already has.

Typically, clubs are not your favorite place to be. The intense crowd, the neon lights, the smoke… It’s all over the top. Usually, you can’t even hear yourself think over the music. Though, you don’t mind the sense of anonymity in such a crowded place. Besides, you’ve heard great things about IBEX, so you’re curious about it.

It’s a huge place, easy for everyone to split up, but still small enough that you can easily find your group. You urge Sana to go have fun with the guys as you order a round of drinks for everyone. As one of the oldest of your friends, you felt that sense of responsibility for them. Even if you hadn’t called them friends in years.

You signal them over once the drinks are ready, catching Namjoon’s eye and beckoning him over. They slowly begin to surround you, shouting thank you’s over the music. Jimin slings his arm around your shoulders as if it’s nothing. As if he’s known you for all this time.

It makes you feel warm. He gazes at you with crescent eyes and a full smile. It makes your heart thump heavily in your chest.

“Cheers,” Jimin says, tearing his eyes away from you and towards the group. His toast elicits a sequence of ‘cheers’ from everyone. You scan across all of them before your eyes inevitably land on Jungkook. He’s looking at you with a smile, the kind of smile that makes you wonder if it’s a smile only for your eyes.

Your smile matches his in intensity, neither of you pulling your gazes away. Until Jin pulls you away from Jimin, exclaiming that he needs to dance with you. His best friend.

The moment passes, and you make sure Sana is okay. She’s conversing with Yoongi now, and he’s laughing at something she’s saying. It makes you feel warm. Again.

You allow the music to pump through your veins as laughter bubbles from your lips freely at Jin’s antics. You entertain him, copying his coordinated movements with his same enthusiasm. You can tell he’s drunk, from the fiery flush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He abruptly pulls you close to him for a tight hug and holds your face in his hands.

“Jin,” You giggle, “What you doin’?”

“I love you,” Jin giggles, “Y’r my best friend, ‘n I love you.” He always got like this when you were drunk, so affectionate. You wonder how he knows exactly what you need to hear, when you need to hear it.

“Can’t wait for you t’meet Yuna when we get home,” Jin slurs.

“I’m excited, too-”

“She’s nervous y’know,” Jin continues as if you hadn’t said anything, “Knows y’r my best friend.”

“Jin,” You exhale, “Even if she doesn’t like me, you clearly like her. I shouldn’t matter-”

“No,” Jin says sharply, “Why d’you think you don’t matter? You matter to me.”

“Jin-”

“Stop it,” He silences you and you comply with a sigh. 

“She doesn’t have to be nervous around me,” You finally say.

“You can be a little scary when you want to be,” He teases.

“That’s exactly how I want to be known,” You scoff and Jin laughs, swaying with you offbeat to the music. You stand with Jin like that for a few minutes, sipping on your drink and giggling at his antics.

“Seokjin,” You murmur, voice a little shaky, “I never say it but… I-I love you. So much. You’re my best friend and my rock. I don’t know who I’d be without you-”

“You’d be you,” Jin says without missing a beat, “You’d be scary, intense, kind, genuine, petty, funny and beautiful with or without me, sweetheart.”

Jin sees wetness in your eyes and pulls you in for another hug. “None of that,” Jin murmurs, “Hey, let’s take a picture ‘n send it to Grandma. She’ll get a kick out of that.”

You stand in Jin’s arms, in the crowd of people surrounding you and not paying attention to you. Despite the throng of people around you, it feels like it’s just you and Jin, and your friends in the club.

“Let’s get back to our friends,” You say, “They probably think we’re making out-”

“You would be so lucky,” Jin scoffs, “Only Yuna gets this handsome face.” You pinch his cheeks affectionately and coo at him.

“Hey, by the way,” Jin says, “Not to be totally unprofessional here. But I’m pretty sure Jeon Jungkook has the hots for you. Kid won’t stop lookin’ at you. Not that I can blame him, I mean look at your tits.”

With that statement, Jin walks away from you, leaving you confused and curious- two words becoming increasingly common with your thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

“Hey pretty,” comes a sweet voice to your right side. You already know it’s Jimin before you meet his sincere eyes.

“Hey you,” You reply, “Wanna dance? We used to always be in sync.”

If Jimin is surprised he doesn’t show it. He only takes your drink and finishes it, placing it on a high table near you. He walks behind you, a hand on the small of your back as you weave through the crowd easily. Bodies push back into you but you only dance along with them to move past. Jimin pulls you closer to him once he finds a spot, pulling you into his side. He turns you so that you’re facing him, the lights of the club illuminating the sheen of his lips and the shine in his eyes. You push a stray strand of his silver hair back behind his ear.

“I meant it you know,” Jimin murmurs, for your ears only, “You look good.” You lean into him at his praise, a hand on his chest. Your nails press into the soft material of his dress shirt and he tightens his grip around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles. 

“You do, too,” You reply easily, “You always did.”

Jimin scoffs but you look at him earnestly. “I mean it,” You say with a smirk, mimicking his words. He says nothing, only holds you and rolls his hips into yours to the beat of the music. He watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. You snake a hand to the base of his neck and lightly scratch as he presses his nose to your neck. You’re lucky he’s holding you tight- you’re certain you’re knees would buckle if it weren’t for him.

It’s been years since anyone danced with you like this. You let out a soft sound into his skin and Jimin groans, pressing his hips into yours even more slowly if possible.

“Why’d you leave,” Jimin breathes into your skin, “Missed you. Missed my friend.”

“I was a mess,” You mutter, “I’m still a mess.”

“You’re here now?” He asks, looking at you with big eyes. Jimin cups your face tenderly, and you’re not sure how many of these kind touches you can take for one night.

“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I just… couldn’t. I still can’t.”

You won’t apologize for mending your own cracks the way you needed to. And Jimin knows that. “Don’t be a stranger,” Jimin says and pulls you in for a hug.

“Jimin,” You mumble, “I missed you, too.”

Barely stifling a yawn, you look around for your group. They’re all within eyesight of you- Sana and Yoongi were still engrossed in conversation with each other, Namjoon with Jin, Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung with Jungkook. Taehyung casts a look over to you and immediately whispers to Jungkook. It shouldn’t surprise you that they both saunter over to you, standing on either side of you. Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans against you as if you’re old friends. At this angle, you can see the expanse of his tanned, golden skin since the top few buttons of his shirt are popped.

“See somethin’ you like?” Taehyung asks coyly with a wink.

“No, just wondering why you’re wearing tinted aviators inside,” You mutter, pointing at him, “You look like an asshole.”

Taehyung laughs, throwing his head back good-naturedly, “You clearly don’t know fashion. You must think you’re hilarious.”

Before you can retort, a yawn overtakes you. “Are we boring you?” Jungkook teases.

“No, ‘m just tired,” You blink to force yourself to stop yawning, “Hey, you guys wanna get ice cream?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says instantly.

Taehyung nearly snorts but agrees. By the time you and Jungkook say your goodbyes, and you ask for the tenth time if Sana wants to come with you (she declines, opting to stay with Yoongi), Taehyung is nowhere to be found. Jungkook rolls his eyes, his phone vibrating with a text from him-

taehyung: you’re welcome 

“Tae’s not coming,” Jungkook says slowly, wondering if you might change your mind if it’s just you two getting ice cream.

You shrug, “His loss. I know a great place.”

Taking Jungkook to one of your favorite ice cream places that you used to come with Appa to feels intimate. But it feels right and you’re not bothered by it. Once you buy your respective cones (you pay for both before Jungkook can even fumble for his card), you head back outside for a short walk towards the hotel.

The ice cream place itself was close to the hotel, though you had to Uber here from the club. It’s a nice night for a walk, a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. You and Jungkook fall into an easy conversation, talking about the silliness of your shared friends.

He looks nice under the moonlight, you decide. A light breeze lifts his hair up briefly before it flawlessly settles over his forehead.

“I can’t keep up with you,” Jungkook whispers, his words carrying into the night air.

“What do you mean?” Your heart picks up immediately at the anguish in his tone. The air between both of you shifts immediately. What was easy becomes hardened, the space between suffocating you. You can physically see him pulling away from you. Months, or maybe years, of frustration seems to be coming to a head right here. Right near your favorite ice cream shop.

“One sec you hate me. The next, you’re asking me to get ice cream with you,” Jungkook says, something familiar and icy curling in his brown irises. It always looks so off-putting, the callousness in his eyes. It seems to be directed at you so often these days.

“I don’t hate you-”

“You avoided me for 2 and a half months. You’re only talking to me now because you have to!”

“That’s not true-”

“Oh, really? You telling me that you the last two and a half months was all in my head?”

You stay quiet, because he’s not wrong.

“That’s what I thought,” Jungkook says to himself, tearing his eyes from you. The cold look in his eyes has returned and it makes your heart ache. He can’t look at you like that, you can hardly bear it.

“I’m fucked up, I get it. Don’t think I don’t get it-”

“You left. Without a goodbye and now fuckin’ five years later- my dream girl’s my colleague and she hates me.”

A sudden, chilling epiphany douses you- he has no idea why you left. You know him well enough to know that he’ll feel awful once you tell him. Apparently none of his friends had told him. Maybe they thought it was your story to tell. It’s not much of a story, not really. It’s the story of a heartbroken girl with commitment issues.

Your face drops. Maybe he’s hurting you the same way you hurt him. But it changes nothing.

“You can’t even look at me now!”

“You listen to me, Jungkook,” You hiss, “I’m not your dream girl. I’m nobody’s dream girl, so let’s get that straight. I’m awful a-and terrible and mean- and… 

“My dad died,” You finally whisper, “Appa died and I couldn’t handle grad school so I dropped out. Dropped off the face of the earth. Got the first job I could, for Grandma and me. 

“I fuckin’ dropped out, my daddy died and I can’t look at you sometimes because it fuckin’ reminds me of when I was happy and I can’t chase that feeling because I don’t know what it feels like anymore!”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, pretty pink lips parted in speechlessness. Fuck. You’ve ruined any chance at friendship with him, you know that. So you bury the dagger even further in whatever this is and you turn on your heel and run. Because that’s all you’re good at. Running. Your eyes are blurry with freely falling tears and the sound of your own heaving sobs are loud in your ears. 

You leave your heart out on the streets of Tokyo, near your favorite ice cream shop but you don’t even hear the sound of Jungkook chasing after you.

[theimpossibleg1rl]

Things Unsaid | One

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: mentions of gunshots and blood, language

“She’s literally the worst person I know.”

Bucky ran a hand through his shorter locks and sat his glass down on the counter. Steve wanted him to spar with you, getting you prepared for the upcoming mission. You’d been out of practice for awhile, still healing from an injury.

“Don’t be a drama queen, Buck,” Steve sighed, trying desperately to not roll his eyes. He and everyone else had had just about enough of the two of you. Constantly bickering like an old married couple. It was clear what was really happening beneath the surface.

“I’m not a drama queen, punk. I hate working with her. She’s stubborn as hell. Does whatever she wants and never listens to a damn thing anyone says.” Steve sighed again. “Yeah, and she’s the only one around here like that,” he muttered, causing Bucky to raise a brow. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a drama queen,” Sam piped up from his place at the table. “Stubborn, too. Maybe even more she is.” Bucky scoffed. “Bullshit. I’m not stubborn,” he mumbled, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. “You’re sparring with her,” Steve told him. “So get over it.”

****

“You’re not fuckin’ listening!,” Bucky snapped, throwing up his hands. “You’re a god damned pain in my ass, Y/N. Every time. You do this every single time.”

You stood with your arms folded, giving him the deadliest stare you could muster. You were so damn tired of Bucky Barnes. “I did exactly what you said, Barnes!,” you retorted. “Bullshit!,” he groaned, “you haven’t listened to one thing.”

You groaned and pulled off your gloves, throwing them down on the mat. “You wanna go for real?,” you asked him with a challenging look. “I mean, I’m certainly not afraid of a fist fight, you old fossil.” The jab at his age only made him angrier.

“You’re such a brat, did you know that?,” he taunted. “Spoiled little girl thinks she can do whatever she wants and everyone will just bow down. Isn’t that right? That everyone just loves you so much they let you get away with anything. Well, fuck that.”

You kicked him in the shins, hard enough to make him stumble. Taking advantage of the situation, you slammed your fist into his jaw as hard as you could. If looks could kill, you’d certainly be dead as soon as he looked up at you. “Did you just fuckin’ hit me?”

“I did,” you nodded, “cause you deserved it, Barnes. If I’m a brat, you’re an asshole. Grumpy ass old man that hates everyone and everything. Complains all the damn time. Who fucking cares about your incessant whining? Huh? No one!”

You gave him one last look before you stormed out, determined to give Steve the tongue lashing of a lifetime for sticking you with Bucky again.

****

“At what point do they realize they’re attracted to each other?”

Steve groaned and looked over at Sam. “I don’t know. I suppose they might sometime if they don’t kill each other first.” Sam shook his head. Everyone could see the lingering looks between you. The ones that each other didn’t notice. It was obvious to everyone else.

“We gotta make them see it, Rogers. If not, they’ll certainly murder each other.”

Steve nodded. It needed to happen. And soon.

****

“God damn! For fuck’s sake!,” you groaned into the comm unit.

Bucky hadn’t waited for the all clear before storming the building. And he called you reckless. “Barnes! You fucker!” You pulled your gun from the holster and followed him in.

It was dark and it took you a few moments to get your bearings. Bucky, of course, was nowhere to be found. Leave it to him to leave you alone in a building full of Hydra operatives. “Barnes?,” you called out.

No answer.

“Shit,” you hissed, making your way slowly down the dark hall, just praying to the God of Thunder that you didn’t get ambushed. You knew you could handle a few on your own, but anymore and you’d be completely screwed.

Leaning against the wall, you closed your eyes, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you were walking into. It was dead silent and that honestly scared you more than anything else. But the gunshots that echoed off the walls brought you back.

Taking off, you followed the sounds, taking out two men on your way. You just hoped that Bucky had been the one to cause damage, not the other way around. It would be devastating if something happened to him, despite the awful relationship you had.

“Barnes?,” you called out again, hearing a muffled groan. That was definitely Bucky.

“Jesus,” you swore when you reached him. He was slumped against the concrete wall, ten dead men surrounding him. Blood poured from his chest and you swore your heart stopped in that moment. “Steve? Sam?,” you called, “Barnes is down. I need backup. Now.”

You leaned down on his level, lifting his chin to look at you. Suddenly struck with the knowledge that he might actually die, your heart clenched and tears pooled in your eyes. “Hey,” you said softly, “keep your eyes on me, Bucky. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

He nodded weakly, staring up at you. “Just so you know,” he said, his voice strained, “in case I don’t make it…,” he started but you cut him off. “You’re too tough for that,” you said, “save your strength, okay? We’re gonna get you outta here.”

“Y/N…,” he groaned, reaching for your hand just as Sam and Steve reached the two of you. They picked him up carefully, you following quietly behind as the got him on the jet. You stood over him, watching him slip in and out of consciousness. He kept trying to say something, mumbling incoherently, but you kept telling him to rest.

You weren’t sure you wanted to hear it.

[traumatized-motherfuckers]

CPTSD and Core Beliefs (Your lens, built on traumatic fuckery)

Alright, so you know I have this Patreon thing that I try to make worth your while in return for your economical help. One of the benefits is the good ole’ monthly ask me anything. And I love it. Because the questions are great. And they push me to dig into topics that I was procrastinating. This month’s AMA is a particularly good one! A question that needs to be addressed, anyways. So it’s perfect. Let’s aim for two birds with one stone.

Our good friend Cassie - you know her by now - asks, how do you identify core beliefs and start to change them? Which is a very simple and very complicated question.

  So, to take a step backwards, what she talkin’ bout?

  Well, one of the internal issues that complex trauma sufferers have to rectify is their belief system. Between our core beliefs and our inner critic, we have a lot going on in between our ears to keep us downtrodden and destitute.

  We’re talking about what I call Fucked Up Core Beliefs here… which are your trauma-born core beliefs. Again, called FUCBs because when you discover them, you’ll likely whisper to yourself, “wow, that’s actually really fucked up.” These sentiments are like the lenses that you surgically stitched onto your face several decades ago in response to your upbringing, as your little mammal brain tried to understand its place in the global hierarchy and how to be chill about it.

 The framework you built from your early development and beyond, that all information still filters through today - both on the way in and on the way out of your head. The words that stream through your brain consciously or subconsciously to shape the ways you appraise… everything. Yourself, your life, your past, your future, other people, and everything that happens in between.

  So, essentially, talking about the ways you interpret your existence and the collected pool of knowledge from where you make decisions, and therefore the ways you act. If this is starting to sound like a big deal - it is!

But it don’t come with a big flashing sign. The Challenge

These beliefs are challenging to figure out because:

  One, they were adapted early on in your life in an effort to understand the circumstances around you or directly downloaded from the sentiments expressed in your environment. When you were first establishing your perspective of the universe and trying to figure out how to navigate it based on the clues presented.

  Plus, the harder part is… because of the early adoption, you’ve already accepted the idea for so long that it doesn’t even seem like a “belief” to you - you’re not choosing it and it’s probably not apparent to you - it’s just the secret narrative running in your head that corrupts all later data. Not cognitive thoughts that you’re directing on purpose. You probably don’t have recollections of the time before you believed such and such to question what you believe - these ideas are solidified in your head with as much certainty as the alphabet.

  So, you might believe you’re a worthless piece of shit as a function of the neglect and abuse you experienced, a way to explain the mistreatment to yourself from a young age… OR you might believe you’re a worthless piece of shit because mom, dad, sister, and society directly told you so. But either way, many years down the line, it’s difficult to pinpoint either of these originating factors as memories fade or to even question the validity of the thought… or to even notice the thought.

  Two, if your family of origin was always repeating the same sort of thoughts and you later associate with people who make you comfortable to be around (i.e. probably have some similar views of the world), you have nothing to compare your beliefs to.

  Your environment teaches you what’s normal. There’s no reference for what is and isn’t healthy, fair, or functional if everyone is drinking the same kool aid. And, unfortunately, in traumatic environments, folks seem to congregate around the fucked up beliefs to protect them with a mutual unspoken agreement. Accept the accepted narrative of the group or be outcast. The same story is replayed on repeat from all ends of your social circle, so why would you even begin to think there’s another way to look at things?

So, if mom, dad, cousin, uncle, grandma, neighbor, peer, teacher, and media are all telling you the same reality exists, how would you ever even begin to have the wherewithal to think otherwise? The thought probably never crosses your mind. The sky is blue, grass is green, and the world is a miserable place where everyone is trying to take advantage of you.

  Three, again, I cannot over-express how insidious, subtle, and generalized these things can be. Fucked up core beliefs affect how you see and process everything. Again, like lenses or an instagram filter permanently applied to your corneas. So, there’s not necessarily one life-effect linked to one-FUCB for easy detection or one event that will cause a clear-as-day defined belief to come shooting to the top of the pile. More like, you very slowly realize you have an unhealthy view or twenty about yourself and the world that have sorrrrrtof impacted every single area of your life now that you spend years considering it.

  Thinking you’re a worthless piece of shit, for instance, has led to you taking low-level jobs with chaotic schedules, living with an abusive partner, and settling for living in the same environment with the same behavioral patterns that you’ve known your entire life. It’s also allowed you to give up exercise, eating right, staying sober, and trying to make any life-improvements. Why bother spit polishing shit? And here you are, wondering why you feel awful about yourself and don’t enjoy anything you’ve created in your life.

  But. It’s not that simple to sort out, or else we would have done it already. You probably haven’t ever purposely considered how commonly this impression is operating below the surface of your actions. Realizing that the belief “I’m a worthless piece of shit who deserves nothing” and trying to change it would be like pulling out the wrong Janga block - everything it has been supporting suddenly comes tumbling down and you’re left with a real fucking mess to rebuild from the bottom up. And, to top it all off, no one ever even taught you how to create a sturdier structure in the first place.

  Fourthly, from some of my own learnings, I’ve come to the conclusion that the core belief, itself, doesn’t even have to present itself at any point to be making a difference in your life. They are so deeply ingrained in my brain that my thought center just naturally uses them as a jumping off point, without even directly touching on the words that might ping my brain as unusual. Just like we can subtly detect risks in our environment that set off our warning bells without ever creating a conscious thought to go with the arousal, I feel like I can apply a core belief to my world without ever noticing the accompanying stream of consciousness.

Sometimes I feel like fucked up core beliefs have become so accepted over time that they’re feelings more than cognitions. As if they’ve become so reflexive through repetition that you have muscle memory - an intuitive response that bypasses your logical brain recognition threshold and jumpstarts shittily-related thoughts… and those will actually register on your thinking scale. But at that point, you accept the novel-feeling thought and never note that it was actually spawned by a very old recording.

  Which is to say, you might have to work on identifying your fucked up core feelings before you can get to the thought deeply buried underneath. Taking a meta break from the episode to tell you, I’ve never thought about that so thoroughly before. But Fucked Up Core Feelings definitely sounds like a solid description of my world. I guess we also have FUCFs to go with our FUCBs from now on. Anyways.

  With all of this in mind, I’m sure you can start to see why these fucked up core beliefs are a big problem. Hell, if you’ve listened to this podcast for more than a few episodes, you’ve definitely heard that I’m still challenged by my own. Like, when I say that I’m freaking out because no one should listen to me and I feel like an imposter - I believe that I’m not good enough to share information with people. That I’m too flawed to even express myself. This is a problem for, say, podcasting. Or, living. And I have to fight it all the time.

  Long story short.

  Your core beliefs are sneaky, they can be comprehensive, and they are hardwired into your brain as your default system for analyzing everything on the planet. Again, kind of like looking for goggles strapped to your face, but in reality you had lasik surgery about 30 years ago.

  So, if you aren’t constantly on the lookout for core beliefs and actively working against your pre-programmed ways of assessing yourself and the world around you… they will get out of control, cause a fair amount of avoidance and defeat, and set you back several steps in your mental health management… plus, potentially your entire life, if you make any big decisions out of this unhealthy mindset. Which you will, because that’s how the brain works. I’m almost certain that you have some experience with this already.

If you ever think things like: The world is a dangerous placePeople are cruelI’m not good enough I’m not smart enoughI’m not enoughI’m brokenOther people don’t like meThere’s something wrong with my personalityI’m not allowed to… (live like others, have nice things, be happy)I’m not one of those people who… (has money, has good luck, gets what they want)Shit is just harder for meNothing ever works outLife is always hardI can’t.

Then you’ve had some fucked up core beliefs floating around in your head.

 These are some super broad ones for the sake of demonstration, so don’t disregard highly specific beliefs that might relate to your particular circumstances or upbringing.

  If you haven’t ever noticed yourself thinking these big shitty picture things… check again in all your deepest nooks and crannies. I think a lot of us TMFRs operate from some version of the narratives above - plus, much worse. Like I keep saying, these beliefs might not be in your conscious thoughts, so much as they’re directing the show from behind the curtain.

How do we pull it back? Discover the beliefs ........

Keep reading or listen up at t-mfrs.com

https://www.t-mfrs.com/podcast/episode/532f2b1c/core-beliefs

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 47

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Argus was beautiful. The Mistrali architecture blended and contrasted nicely with that of its Atlesian half. We rode a tram through the city streets and felt the quiet security of the place. There was a humble peace here, one the Black-Out day panic hadn't touched.

I sighed.

It was nice. The environment was relaxing.

Especially after the train ride had turned stressful for me.

My Jaune's semblance was like Blake's Adam's. That meant something. They were similar. They had to be. That's how semblances worked. They were about the soul and that meant Jaune's soul, his very essence, was like Adam's.

That was scary. I'd heard of Adam by now and seen the harm he brought my sister. He'd planned to bomb Haven. He'd set the Grimm loose at Beacon.

Jaune had once described using the Grimm as a weapon as a genius move. Was the difference between him and Adam smaller than I thought? The way Blake told it, it was possible. It was possible enough to make me doubt my own memory of things.

Like when Jaune had killed for the first time. A beat of blue light and the other man fell into two halves. Or even the second time, too. He was drenched in blood. He'd been so casual about it, he was even joking around a little. It made me wonder if it was the second time or just the second time I knew about.  

However, Blake's Adam was an obsessive creature, that was the portrait she painted of him, and maybe Jaune was too, but obsessive was the polar opposite of traitorous. It didn't match up. If Jaune was like Adam, he should have been killing for our cause, not turning on us. That's what didn't add up about it. It's why even with Blake's story I was willing to stick to my guns, so to speak.

And Jaune was obsessive.

He was crazy about Cinder and getting his revenge. The only thing that held him back from jumping her at Haven was me and his similar obsession for me.  

Salem did something to Jaune. She must have. It was the only way Blake's story lined up. It was the only way Jaune's personality matched his actions. No matter what he was offered he would have said ‘no.’ He would never turn on us intentionally. Something else must be at work.

I brushed my hair back and rubbed the smooth handle of Crescent Rose. I listened to our cart troll along, bumping against the smooth road.

Jaune was out there. He was waiting for me to save him. There was nothing in this world to stop me from worrying about him. He was somewhere, maybe bringing the relic to Salem. Soon he'd be even further in her clutches and here I was going away more and more.

I missed the sound of his voice, the deep baritone. I missed his arms around me. I missed his plans, his mind. I missed his aura, a comfort that nothing else could replicate and replace. Nothing else delivered on that.

We moved towards the military base, a distant part of the city. A reminder of Atlas's strength but far enough away to keep it out of the denizen's minds. They didn't need to be reminded constantly about war and the power of the gunships. Just the occasional touch would do to secure the place mentally.

We approached the gates to the place. Two guards in Atlesian drab met us at the entrance through the bars.

"Hey we need to secure passage to Atlas." I began. "Can you help us?"

"I know Ironwood, we work together."

"Impossible. Besides-"

"The borders are closed," one guard continued.

"No one in or out of Atlas."

"Come on, you didn't even hear us out." Yang shook the bars.

"Our orders are clear."

"The Mistral-Atlas borders are closed."

"Please have a good day."

"But-" Yang began.

"A good day," They said in unison.

"Hey if you don't want to believe that I'm friends with Ironwood-"

"-General Ironwood."

"Right. General Ironwood." Qrow continued. "But look we've got Weiss Schnee with us and we're trying to get her home safely."

They cocked their heads and said together. "Approach."

Weiss gave us all a helpless look. Blake managed an encouraging nod.

They examined Weiss for a long pause. Making sure she was indeed Weiss, probably. She was Weiss so they leaned back and shared a glance.

"Very well-"

"-You may speak with our commanding officer."

"We will fetch her at once."

They marched away in synchronization. With a "Hup-hup-hup-hup-" never let it be said that they didn't take their jobs seriously.

"They were kind of-" Blake began.

"Super weird?" I finished. "Uh-yeah."

"Keep it together. This may be our best shot at getting into Atlas."

"Ms. Schnee, you remember the code phrase you're supposed to give James when you see him?" Ozpin asked.

Weiss nodded.

"Very good. Qrow is correct. You stand the best chance of passing a message along to him. It is likely the rest of us will have to remain here. We will see about finding lodging after meeting with this officer."

"Introducing-" we tried back to the young men working the gate. "Special Operative Caroline Cordovin!"

They stood aside to reveal a short elderly woman with a metallic glint in her eye.

"Hello Operative Cordovin. I'm Weiss Schnee." Weiss gave a little curtsey as she introduced herself.

"Indeed? I've seen the special report informing us to keep an eye out for you. Plus you look ever so much like your sister. We're both Special Operatives so I know her."

"Is that so…" Weiss trailed. "It is imperative that I speak with General Ironwood and secure passage for myself and my companions into Atlas."

"If I may ask, why must you speak to the general?"

"I have a special message for him. His ears only."

"I see… well I'd be happy to secure your transit into Atlas. I've even been ordered to do so given the opportunity but I have no orders for anyone else. I'm afraid your companions will have to stay here until I receive directions to the contrary."

"Very well. If I could just speak to Ironwood I'm sure that he would allow them special passage."

"Unfortunately communication between here and Atlas is limited. He trusts me to run things as I see fit." She looked over the back of her fingernails as she humble-bragged.

"Just me, then. How soon can you have an airship ready?"

Caroline nodded to her men and they opened the gate for Weiss. They closed it behind her and I watched her go on, alone. My heart ached for her but we knew it might come to this. It would be fine. Just for a few days.

I was still worried about her. I knew how much she would hate being alone but she was a big girl. She could tough it out. Besides, the fate of the world was at stake. I'd see her again.

"Well that's settled," I said. "For now at least."

"Come on kids, let's find a place to spend the night." My uncle turned on mechanical legs and strode down the street.

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We marched through the city, searching for an inn we could stay the night at. We rounded a corner and that's when they jumped us.

They came down off the roof in unbelievable unity. Three girls, in masks and balckware came out of the night.

I spun Crescent Rose into it's full form before me. Just in time to block the slash of a knife in my directions. She backed away and fired a gun at me twice. Dagger and gun, she somersaulted through the air at me. She fired the pistol in my face and lashed out with the knife at the last second.

"Where's the relic?" She demanded. Her voice was soft and urgent. She couldn't have been much older than me. She was probably a shade younger, in fact. That or she was incredibly lithe. I struck out at her with Crescent Rose but she-she sort of ate the attack against her body. Her aura flashed with red and blue flames. She grunted with it, a sort of moan.

I fired a shot into her body and she rolled with it. Purple aura flaring over the site of the attack.

She lashed out at me with her knife, trying to slash me. She did a rolling side-flip with it, bringing it around her body and trying to cut me. She tried to breach my range but I disappeared and reappeared a few steps back.

They attacked all of us together. One had a sword with two parallel blades. The last had a set of gauntlets with knives attached to the tips.

They were fast, strong, and skilled, flipping over us and taking us by surprise. My uncle rotated his weapon into play and clashed with the sword user who flipped between him and Oscar. The last engaged Blake and Yang simultaneously.

They all had blonde hair tied up and their masks revealed blue eyes like crystal.

It all seemed incredibly familiar.

I lashed out again and she ate my attack with her aura once more. The blue and red flames wreathed her and burnt at me. It made me take a step back and yelp with pain.

She sort of floated in place as she took two shots at me with her pistol. Her other hand coming up to stabilize with the knife underneath.

She lashed out with the knife as she got closer and I had to say she was good at getting into my guard with her narrow flips and small attacks.

She came up to me and did a sort of kick flip right in my face that nearly connected with my chin. She jumped and kicked at me again with her narrow feet and forced me backwards away from the lashing limbs.

I hit her with the back end of Crescent Rose, knocking her to the asphalt, but she just jumped back to her feet. She jabbed at me two times with her knife, ultra fast, and shot at me again.

I slashed, twirling Crescent Rose at her and bringing my body with it in a whirlwind of attacks. She flipped end over end away from me and I realized she was trying to draw me away from my friends and I held firm. I took a few potshots at her but was careful shooting in the middle of a city. A missed shot could kill a bystander easily.

But then a ghostly specter of red and blue appeared around her body. It lashed out in time with her kicks against me, increasing the force and bashing me back. It had strength beyond her small body. It flared blue and red around her. It didn't seem to keep her safe from harm.

She flipped at me, knife in hand and a crescent of red followed it as the specter which hovered over her, lashed out, overlapping her attack with it's own claws. Instead the monstrous ghost was augmenting her attacks. It was nearly eight feet tall and was a menace of red and blue light.

The girl with the sword flared purple with soft lightning as well and her speed seemed to increase as she flipped through the air, lashing out against Oscar with her blade before leaping back to deal my uncle a blow. She twirled in the air with grace.

She caught Oscar's cane between the blades of her sword. She swung it away and Oscar's cane went clattering down the street. The girl with the sword jumped and slammed both feet into Qrow's chest and knocked him to his knees. He was still unsteady on his new legs.

Blake and Yang seemed to have the situation under control the most. They dealt their attacker a rapid team attack that slammed her against a brick wall. Yang's fists were bared and at the ready. Blake vanished into shadow and let Yang hit through where she used to be to knock her against the wall again.

Yang lashed out with her fist and the girl only narrowly ducked under it. Blake slashed at where she was going and caught the girl on the side. It knocked her to the ground.

Blake tossed Yang the ribbon of Gambol Shroud and together they clotheslined the girl.

The lead girl jumped and lashed out at me with her legs and the hovering ghost attacked in time with her. Increasing her strength immensely. Hovering behind her and beating against my defenses in perfect time with the girl in front of me, the specter was hard to keep track of and I swept my blade through it and it did nothing.

"Where is the relic!?"

"We don't have the relic!" I shouted. She knocked me off my feet and down to the ground. The disembodied pressure of the specter floating behind her disappeared as she went to help her fallen compatriot.

"Blake look out!" I called.

The girl I'd been fighting dealt her a staggering blow with the spirit in tow. It must have been her semblance, that glowing specter that reinforced her attacks.

She rocked Blake back and slammed her against a wall.

"They don't have it on them, sister." The girl with the fisticuffs said as she was pulled to her feet by the girl with the dagger and gun. "The relic isn't here."

The girl with the dagger and gun growled. She took shots at us while they backed off. Using team attacks and surprising maneuverability to cover one another as they made their way back to the roof tops. They hopped off the walls of one building like ninjas and made their way to the top.

The girl with the dagger and gun stretched a hand down and hauled the girl with the double sword over and onto the roof. Then, as quickly as they appeared, they were gone.

I rushed over to Qrow and Oscar.

"Are you two alright?"

"We're fine. Who were those girls?" Qrow breathed.

"I don't know."

"They looked a little familiar, though." Blake said, she held her hands on her thighs and panted.

"They were looking for the relic." Oscar said. "She kept asking us where it was, over and over again."

"Do you think they worked for Salem?" Yang asked.

"I've never seen or heard of agents who match their description before." Oscar said in an Ozpin like voice. "But it is possible. Perhaps even likely."

The police arrived to the sound of gunshots and we gave them our story. How we were attacked and the real culprits escaped into the night. We spent the evening down at the police station repeating our story over and over again to the local authorities.

"What did they mean by 'relic?'" I was asked by a local cop.

I had to tell him I had no idea. I hated lying like that but what choice did I have?

"They weren't making any sense, officers," Yang said. "They sounded hysterical."

"And what are you trying to do in town?"

"We delivered Weiss Schnee to the Argus military base. Maybe that's what all this is about." I lied.

"If I call up Caroline Cordovin will she corroborate that story?"

"She should. She took Weiss from us. I have no idea why she wouldn't." Qrow muttered.

"And where are you ladies and gents staying in town, in case we have more questions and need to get ahold of you?"

"We're not staying anywhere yet. We were looking for a place when we were attacked." Blake explained. It felt like she was saying that for the dozenth time.

"Why don't you give me your scroll numbers? Then we'll let you go on free."

We handed over our numbers and were let out into the very late night.

"Aw man, we're never going to find a place to stay now." I said.

"We should just be glad everyone made it out of that fight okay." Blake murmured. "It was a good thing they were so focused on the relic. They operated like a strike squad. In and out with a non-combat objective."

"But that doesn't make any sense. Why would Salem be trying to take the relic from us. She should know we don't have it." Yang said.

"Unless she doesn't," I said.

"What's that mean?" Yang asked.

"I'm not sure. But it should be a good thing. It means she doesn't know where the relic is."

"You mean she doesn't know where Jaune is? How could she not?" Blake asked.

"It is curious." Oscar or maybe Ozpin put his hands on his cane and leaned on it. "Enemy disorientation is a good thing. I should like to capitalize on it but I'm unsure how. We are missing many details that would set this all straight."

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-WG