#he refuses to leave his brother in the hands of the League or his mother

[bluerosefox]

Same As The Day I Lost You

I...

This came to me as I'm making dinner so I'll be quick.

What if we mix deaged Danny and twin/older sibling (either one works) Damian, AND he gets tossed to his sibling in a last minute escape.

Like what if he was fighting Vlad who was doing his whole "denounce your father and join me as my son Daniel!" Thing while in the Zone and knocks Danny into something that's floating in the Zone with the ability to deage or was hit by a new Fenton or Plasmius invention while fighting in town that accidentally deages him.

Danny, who in this was adopted, gets put back to the age of six. The same age he had been found by Jazz in a 'haunted' forest Jack and Maddie were visiting/investigating while also using that time as a family vacation. (They were shocked to see a little boy with a stab wound bleeding out and rushed him to the nearby town, almost completely forgetting about the glowing green tiny puddle they found nearby and bagged most of it as evidence when they heard Jazz's scream of terror over finding the hurt little boy)

The sudden revert into that traumatized age, along with the child response to a fight or flight scenario, and add Danny's deepest need/wish to be protected his child fogged mind wishes to go to the one person who always made him feel safe.

His twin/older brother.

Just as quick as it was with Danny being turned into a child, his ghost powers ripped open a portal and sent Danny to the person he wants to be with...

Only he didn't know that right at that moment his seventeen year old twin/older brother is currently fighting the League with his family's help (his mother was trying to convince him to return to the League and be it's heir) in Nanda Parbat (the very place Damian lost the last/only person he knew loved him without any strings attached.)

So imagine everyone's face when a portal opened up, some muttering its a new pit being formed before them or something, and crawling out of it is a very scared and confused six year old Danny.

[19ndonboy]

illicit affairs - mason mount

words: 3.4k

A/N: this is my first imagine, be nice please. of course miss swift inspired me to write something. also, i’d really appreciate if i could receive feedback on this. thank you

you and mason had been best friends for as long you can remember. it was kind of like a love at first sight in a kids who have so much to discover way. you two met in primary school. you were on your way to lunch when a boy running without looking in front of him in the corridor shoved you. your food your mother had cooked you was all over the floor before you could even realize what happened. mason, who saw it all unfold, gave you his food. after much pleading from his side with you being too shy to refuse, you ended up sharing the sandwiches his mother had lovely made. until this day, his brother lewis never missed an opportunity to tease him on how big of a gentleman he is since his youngest age. 

neither of you would have thought you would be here years later. visiting the netherlands to see him play for vitesse, mason never missing the opportunity to score a goal and do the celebration you two created when you were in maths class. 

cheering for him when he scored his first goal for his beloved club, chelsea. the club he would talk to you for hours hopelessly dreaming about stepping a foot on the green rectangle at stamford bridge.

the day he lifted the champions league felt more like a dream to you than him. you often found yourself thinking about how he would be one of the biggest footballers in the world when he was playing football on your school’s playground during the lunch time. little did you know he actually made it. 

all these moments made you grow closer and closer each year that went by. you would go on holidays together with your mutual friends, he’d come to pick you up after uni or work whenever he had the time to. he even drove at 2am when you called him in tears after breaking up with your boyfriend of 8 months and listened to your rambling until you could see the sunrise emerge from the windows, having forgotten to close the blinds the night before.

you don’t remember what led up to the night you found yourself wrapped in his bedsheets after a birthday party at a club. you blamed it on the alcohol that day. a month later, you blamed it on a defeat from chelsea’s side. before you knew, two weeks later, he was in your bed. that time, your boss was the one to blame for letting out his nerves on you. sure at some point, you two needed to act like the adults you were and came to the conclusion that you could have sex when you two wanted to. 

it was easier for him considering he didn’t have much time to go out but he also didn’t want to put his trust in a girl he would know for two hours and half. that was the safest option. on the other hand, you guess you agreed to the deal because it was less tiring than going on dates with douchebags you found on the internet. what a deal that was… no strings attached. these were the three words he repeated approximately ten times. 

it’s been six months since you started this friends with benefits situation. no one in your mutuals friends is aware of this. you do your best to hide it from them, not wanting to be bothered with questions. he would just leave 5 minutes before you at parties and would wait for you in his car 200 meters away from the club’s entry. mason and you have always been close. you would always find his arm around your shoulder while talking to a friend or a teammate. you would often hustle your arm around his when weather gets colder outside. also the perfect opportunity for him to hold your hands to warm them up. these were the things you always did as best friends. yet lately, to this long list, you added lingering touches from his side on your lower back, his hand on your thigh in the car or so in front of your friends. something they quickly noticed. 

they always saw you as more than friends. to them, it was so obvious and they couldn’t understand how you would still deny it. the way he was always worried about you when you were in a club and he couldn’t find you anymore in the big crowd on the dance floor. the way he would always crack a joke in a public, yet you would be the only one he’s looking at to make sure you found it funny. the way he would already have his eyes on you before you even made it to the room. the way he would be the first person you’d run to when you have had a bad day at work. the way you would hug him a little longer than all your other friends when saying your goodbyes after a night out just so you could inhale his scent that always made you feel safe and at ease. the way your grip around your glass would tighten every time a girl would flirt with him in front of you.

the way your jaw is clenched right now as you seated on one of reece’s sofa. 2 feet away from you, here you have mason and a beautiful woman. why would you lie. she’s got long legs, brown shiny hair you only see on tv and a bright smile everyone could fall on their knees for. who were you compared to this woman. you feel like exploding every time you hear him laughing, even more when he throws back his head while laughing.

a weird feeling settling in your stomach thinking you were the only one who could make him smile this much you could perceive his eyes crinkle. that feature you loved so much, yet you despise it with everything you have right now. how naive had you been, you thought. you hated how much your friends’ words got into your head to the point you believed every one of them. because here you were seating between kai and ben, both of them joking about something you can’t even recall of, too busy paying attention to mason and her. it shouldn’t hurt this much, yet you can feel like your heart is ripped apart when she rests her hand on his thigh and he doesn’t budge.

no strings attached

hours passed by since you arrived at reece’s party and you only had one wish. to leave. you can see the clock ticking on the white wall to your left. it’s now 1am. to be honest, this is the only thing you’re paying attention to, at least trying to. you didn’t even notice reece sitting next to you until he nudged you with his arm. a playful smile plastered on his face until he saw your eyes full of sorrow. you wanted to get up and leave the moment you saw his grin replaced by a frown. you wanted to scream and tell him to stop looking at you with so much pity in his eyes. is this what you inspired to all of your friends present here? 

“hey what happened to the girl who loves to prank everyone with me during parties” he said with a pout, concern plastered all over his face. “not tonight… i’m tired” you answered, guilt written all over your face, which quickly went noticed by your friend. he’s one of those people who probably know you more than you know yourself. so he automatically knows it would be no use to ask what’s the matter when he already knows the answer is his chelsea and england teammate. instead, he does just as you needed in that moment. he proves you he’s here for you ready to talk to him when you will be ready but while waiting, he’s doing everything he can to crack a smile on your face by telling stories you already heard over and over again. making sure never to mention mason in all of them, both of you knowing he was the main part of every one of them though.

weeks had passed since that party. he ended up leaving with the girl he had passed the whole time with. to say it hurt when you saw them both leave without him even acknowledging you would be an understatement. this night led to the conclusion you were never more than sex between a win and a draining training session. you heard through some of his chelsea teammates how mason was having lots of fun with different girls on different nights. it physically became exhausting hearing about him wandering around london as if he never cared about you. what happened to all those times he would compliment you or tell you how you’re the best thing that happened to him. 

you distanced yourself from him and all your mutual friends. if he wanted to act like nothing ever happened between you two, with no explanation on this behavior changement, then so be it. as much as it hurt you, you couldn’t be arsed going out with your friends if it meant seeing him. eventually, you passed time doing activities that would keep your thoughts at bay. you spend more time at work, more time taking walks around in parks, reading books with your hot chocolate in your favorite café because you always hated coffee. and as much as it hurts deep inside you, you had never felt this amount of peace as you do right now. maybe mason wasn’t meant to be part of your life and you started to accept it.

until you saw him on a saturday night. he hadn’t noticed you yet, too focused in his heated conversation with ben. seeing him wave his hands everywhere made you wonder what was the topic of their conversation but it wasn’t your business anyway so you drifted away and went over where sophia and the girls were. a few meters away, oblivious to you, you were actually the person they were talking about.

mason feels weird to say the least. he misses seeing you almost everyday, having you on the phone when one of you couldn’t make it to each other’s place. he misses telling you about his day but most of all, he misses holding you in his arms. the weird feeling in his stomach he would get when he hears your laugh. this is when it hit him. he fell in love with you, so hard it scared him. and when he’s scared, he does the worst thing he could do. especially to you, he knows how complicated it is for you to trust people, being so used to them leaving you when you need them the most. he promised to himself he’d never do that, yet he was the reason your heart was aching now.

anyone could read the pain you ignoring him caused. ben felt sad for his friend but he couldn’t stop himself from telling him off on how badly he treated you lately. he wasn’t aware of your situationship you two shared, even though he had his suspicions something happened at some point. “i never thought you were this stupid mate. you fucked up. i shouldn’t even be telling you this but it’s so obvious to everyone she loves you. the way she’s with you, we’ve never seen her like that with someone else. sort this out or you’ll lose her.” ben said, which caused mason to drop his head and look at the floor. 

he knows he fucked up real bad, he knows it when he doesn’t get his favorite text every night with a random song she loved on that day. weird to others but to him, it meant the world knowing she would share something so intimate to him. he knows how much she loves music but also how much she keeps to herself, making her feel like she’s in her own bubble with her music. yet, she let him in and he wasn’t so sure he was still welcomed there now.

too engulfed in his thoughts, he didn’t hear what ben said until his friend reminded him how one manchester united footballer had once slide in her instagram dms. he wanted to tell his friend how he was well aware of this, remembering how irritated he was after finding out. yet he didn’t have the time as reece interrupted their conversation, informing them you were back within the group. 

what hurt him the most was what came after. he went to your side, fiddling with the end of his shirt, displaying how nervous he was to see you after what felt like an eternity to him. however, he wasn’t expecting you to greet him with so much indifference. as if he was some kind of acquaintance to you. so that was it? he had ruined the best thing he ever had in his life just because he couldn’t act like the adult he was and face his fear of loving someone, you. after this interaction, you went back to your conversation with the girls. leaving him standing there until he collected his thoughts and went to see his teammates.

hours passed with no sign from mason. you later found yourself at the bar, talking with a guy present at the party. he was nice to talk to and was funny. but he wasn’t mason. you were having a battle inside your head telling yourself not to think of him and just enjoy the moment. but that was quickly interrupted when you felt a hand grip your wrist and drag you away towards the backyard.

he couldn’t be arsed seeing this guy flirt with you. the sight of you laughing to whatever that man said was driving him wild. surely he couldn’t be that funny. the thought of you being with someone else other than him made him want to throw up right there. seeing your hand on his thigh was the last straw though. he felt his blood boil, it made him so jealous, he could feel his heart squeeze uncomfortably in his chest. 

as soon as you stepped a foot in the backyard, you removed your arm from his grip. he was taken aback by your reaction, not being used to you refusing his contact. he swears you could hear his heart beating so fast in his ribcage in this moment. 

“what’s your problem now?” you exclaimed, surprising him by your angry tone. “i miss you” was the first thing that escaped his lips, not even having the time to think twice before spilling those three words. and as much as you wanted to hear those words, you were so mad at him. how dare he?

“tell me you’re joking please. you started it. what we had, you ruined it. i should have never slept with you. look at this idiotic fool that you made me. i fell in love with you, so bad it hurt. and you were doing god knows what with all those girls knowing damn well i would hear about it. what i had with you, i can’t have it with anyone else.” he opened his mouth wanting to speak but you immediately stopped him saying “but the worst thing is that i still love you”. your voice breaking at the end. 

until then, you had managed to stop your tears from falling but they were now falling on your cheeks, blurring your vision. next thing you knew, mason had his arms wrapped around you, holding you so tight. minutes after you calmed down, he was cupping your face with his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. 

“i’m sorry. i have no excuse for everything i did these past weeks. i acted like an arsehole. i don’t even deserve you. what we had, i wouldn’t want it with anyone else. i was so scared. i fell for you too, i was scared i couldn’t give you what you deserve so i started seeing other girls thinking my feelings would go away but it just got worse. i don’t even remember their names. but that was so stupid and i never want to see you cry because of me again.”

you attentively listened to every word he had to say. how bad you wanted to forget all of this and have him back in your life just like you had him by your side for years. but you couldn’t. deep down it hurt too much and you couldn’t let him come back in a flash. if he really loved you as he claimed it, then he would have to prove it with more than words. too many times for your liking, you forgave people only for them to stab you in the back later. 

and he knew that. with a smile, you turned your back to him and left him standing there dumbfounded. surely, he was expecting every reaction but this one. but he knew you like no one else does. and therefore, he couldn’t give up on you, this is not what you wanted. 

he was by your side for the rest of the night, always checking up on you to ask if you were okay but never in a way that could make you feel stressed. 3 am arrived quickly and the only thing you could dream of was your bed. to your utter surprise, mason was waiting for you by the door after you said your goodbyes to everyone, promising them you will see them soon again. you accepted his proposition to take you home, you couldn’t say no to his puppy eyes anyway. the second his car left the porch, taylor swift’s music was blasting in his car. you turned your head to his direction to be met with a grin on his flushed face. he knew the way to your heart, you thought.

if it wasn’t for the little voice telling you to make him earn you, your hands would already be cupping his cheeks, your lips on his. 

after a 25 minute drive, you made it home. he took you to your door, leaving after kissing you on the forehead, not wanting to go inside and overstep. he made sure the door was closed and waited for you to tell him you were in bed just like he had asked to. both of you feeling your tummy flutter when you opened your window to wave him off. finding him standing next to his car waiting outside, you felt like 16 years old again when you two would go on cinema dates, as friends.

eventually, 3 days later, you were on a different kind of cinema date. this time, it was at his home, in his cinema room with big blankets all over you and your favorite food. you wouldn’t have it any other way right now. 

never did he stop with those attentions and improvised dates in the next weeks. he took you home from work when he had a free afternoon. he would always send you a morning text to wish you a nice day and a goodnight text. you would sometimes receive phone calls during the day because he ‘misses your face’ as he would say. you missed his too. you could even feel butterflies erupt in your stomach whenever he’d send you a selfie, however you would never admit it. 

there was this day. he took you to portsmouth as you two were feeling homesick and were tired of the hectic life in london. you probably hadn’t been this happy in months, and judging by mason’s look, he could say the same. you felt at home, in this city but mostly in his arms as you were standing on the harbour, reminiscing the good old days. you felt at peace. how wrong were you thinking back then that maybe this man wasn’t meant to be in your life. 

you could cry out of happiness when you collected your thoughts and saw him staring at you, with a look you had never seen before. he must have seen the same one on your face, as his lips made his way to yours in the most loving way possible. pulling away seconds later to regain your breath, he murmured “can we always be this close?”.

his breath fanning over your mouth, you chuckled before putting your arms around his neck and kissed him again. 

tag: @mountpulisic

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Au where Danny is Damians twin. He had gone on countless solo missions since the time he was six and niether he or his brother had ever failed. This time however, was a bit different.

Dr's Jack and Madeline Fenton were playing with forces beyond thier comprehension and endangering the entire world with thier actions. They were clearly aware of it too if thier sketchy work with the government was taken into consideration. Daniel's job was to infiltrate thier lab and copy all thier data into a flash drive before killing the parents and destroying everything. Simple enough, but he made a crucial mistake.

He got curious.

Isn't that always how the eldrich and unknown gets you? You start asking questions and before anyone knows it you're a raving lunatic.

Once he had completed his first three tasks, Danny had put on one of the suspiciously numerous white and black and child sized hazmat suits and went into the beckoning maw of what was mentioned to be the portal. He looked down to step over a bundle of wires and in his momentary distraction hit a button on the wall with his hand.

The next thing he knew everything was tinged green and he was screaming.

Awaking to find his form had changed, leaving him with glowing green eyes, pale skin and white hair he was confused. Mother and Grandfather did not have a meta-gene and according to mother thier Father-the Batman- also did not have it.

Then It clicked. The scientists were studying the afterlife, more specifically the spirits of the dead and how to invade thier realm. Daniel, at the tender age of eight, had died. Whats worse is that he apparently had the ability to flop between life and death at will. Fearing what kind of experiments his Grandfather would no doubt subject him to he finished his mission by rigging the place to blow far more spectacularly then planned and fleeing into the portal.

The resulting explosion could be seen for miles. Upon seeing it from her place on a park bench with her friend, Jazz had immediately knew something terrible had happened.

Three years later Daniel- now going by Phantom- found that the portals maw had survived even if the portal itself did not and it was reactivated by a pair of nosy teens. Amity Park was being attacked by ghosts and the Justice League, a group of famous heros lead by his Father, Wonder woman and Superman, refused to even answer thier calls for help. Odd.

Phantom stepped up and began fighting them both with his powers and his training from the League of Assassins. The people hated him for being dead. The dead hated him for stopping thier rampages and his annoying ability to just disappear. (He's so glad he kept the half living thing to himself, even if it meant he often had to sneak away to living realms to get human food)

As it turns out, the Fentons had a back up location that niether he or the League of Assassins knew about where they stored notes on thier theories about the nature of ghosts and how "evil and mindless" they were. A government based group eventually formed called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or as the locals called them, The Guys In White who then passed a set of laws called the anti-ecto acts.

Daniel had grown up hearing tales of his Father. A paranoid man who thought of everything and had eyes and ears in every sector of the government. He and his League of Justice would never allow this...and yet days passed since the announcement of the acts. Then weeks. Then a month with no words speaking out againsts laws that essentially stripped the rights of an entire species. Did Father believe the lies and slander from the government and the remnants of the Fentons "research"?

If he knew about him would he think he was a monster? A threat to be eliminated?

Daniel fiddled with his domino mask as he began applying the weekly dose of phase-proof paint to the metal of the portals blast doors. He loved his mask. It made him feel just a little bit safer. Yes, he knew logically no one would ever think that a dead child would ever secretly be a living one, but facial recognition software was a very real thing and it wouldn't be long before the GIW modified it to work the blurriness out of ghost photos. Even if they didn't (which they might never considering the groups overall intelligence) people have eyes

Daniel wasn't technically living in Amity Park. At least not legally. He stole whatever he needed and stayed hidden away in abandoned houses and underground caves. Not the most luxurious life, but better than a scapel and rib shears. He shuttered at the thought.

It was almost a week after his and Damians birthday that he saw his parents again. They were fighting in the streets near Polter Heights, the rich side of the city. He wondered what they were there for. He had long taken the portal deep underground where no one could access it without intangibility and Amity really had nothing to offer otherwise. They couldn't possibly know who he was, could they?

He flew closer invisibly, listening to mother state that she planned on recruiting this "ghost child" into the League. Interesting. She didn't know it was him.

Batman. His own father argued that she knew nothing about these creatures and that they were dangerous but handled by the local authorities. Daniel couldn't fight back his sneer. The GIW did nothing while Phantom did all the work and he highly doubted any of the living considered him an "authority". Nevertheless, this proved to Daniel his fears of his Father hating him was well founded.

He did however, find himself surprised at the familiar chill of a blade at his throat. How? Then his brother, his beloved twin ordered him to surrender. Not a chance. Not even for him. Phantom fought his brother that day, no matter how much it pained him. The GIW have been chasing him relentlessly since thier founding and would do anything to get thier grubby little paws on him. If he was taken into custody by any form of law enforcement or was an immediate Game Over, even if it was the Justice League.

Daniel managed to escape but Damian left knowing he recognized that fighting style.

Damian ended up telling the rest of his family about his twin, Daniel and how he had died and how he suspected the ghost protecting Amity was his lost brother.

Unfortunately, Daniel had overheard what Batman had said to his Mother and believed his change of heart and attemps to get him to come home with him were a ruse to get him to let down his guard.

Thus begins the chaotic time in Amity Park where his Mother and Father both try to convince Phantom to live with them.

[finitefall]

Calling for ASOIAF experts!

So here’s the story: someone asked me about Rhaegar leaving Elia and their two children in King’s Landing versus Rhaegar leaving them on Dragonstone before he left King’s Landing and died at the Trident, and I wasn’t able to find a quote in any book confirming one or the other.

Here’s what I have:

Meanwhile, King Aerys was becoming ever more estranged from his own son and heir. Early in the year 279 AC, Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, was formally betrothed to Princess Elia Martell, the delicate young sister of Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne. They were wed the following year, in a lavish ceremony at the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, but Aerys II did not attend. He told the small council that he feared an attempt upon his life if he left the confines of the Red Keep, even with his Kingsguard to protect him. Nor would he allow his younger son, Viserys, to attend his brother's wedding.

When Prince Rhaegar and his new wife chose to take up residence on Dragonstone instead of the Red Keep, rumors flew thick and fast across the Seven Kingdoms. Some claimed that the crown prince was planning to depose his father and seize the Iron Throne for himself, whilst others aid that King Aerys meant to disinherit Rhaegar and name Viserys heir in his place. Nor did the birth of King Aerys's first grandchild, a girl named Rhaenys, born on Dragonstone in 280 AC, do aught to reconcile father and son. When Prince Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep to present his daughter to his own mother and father, Queen Rhaella embraced the babe warmly, but King Aerys refused to touch or hold the child and complained that she "smells Dornish."

The World of Ice and Fire, The Targaryen Kings - Aerys II

Here, we know Rhaegar and Elia lived on Dragonstone, and Rhaegar came back to King’s Landing later to present Elia and their daughter Rhaenys to his parents.

As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon's turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon. With the coming of the new year, the crown prince had taken to the road with half a dozen of his closest friends and confidants, on a journey that would ultimately lead him back to the riverlands. Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and carried her off, lighting a fire that would consume his house and kin and all those he loved—and half the realm besides.

The World of Ice and Fire, The Fall of the Dragons : The Year of the False Spring

This is after the Tourney where Rhaegar crowned Lyanna his queen of love and beauty, where apparently Elia and their children are back at Dragonstone.

When the news reached the Red Keep, it was said that Aerys cursed the Dornish, certain that Lewyn had betrayed Rhaegar. He sent his pregnant queen, Rhaella, and his younger son and new heir, Viserys, away to Dragonstone, but Princess Elia was forced to remain in King's Landing with Rhaegar's children as a hostage against Dorne. Having burned his previous Hand, Lord Chelsted, alive for bad counsel during the war, Aerys now appointed another to the position: the alchemist Rossart—a man of low birth, with little to recommend him but his flames and trickery.

The World of Ice and Fire, The Fall of the Dragons: The End

Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon are now back in King’s Landing. The question being: when did that happen? Between the two last passages, there’s only another one which doesn’t mention Elia or the children, only Rhaegar taking all the Kingsguard with him to the Trident except for Jaime:

When Prince Rhaegar at last marched up the kingsroad to the Trident, with him were all but one of the Kingsguard who had remained in King's Landing: Ser Barristan the Bold, Ser Jonothor Darry, and Prince Lewyn of Dorne. Prince Lewyn took command of the Dornish troop sent by his nephew, the Prince Doran, but it is said that he did so only after threats from the Mad King, who feared that the Dornishmen looked to betray him. Only the young Ser Jaime Lannister remained in King's Landing.

The World of Ice and Fire, The Fall of the Dragons: Robert's Rebellion

Which is also confirmed by Jaime when he thinks about the last time he saw Rhaegar:

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. "Your Grace," Jaime had pleaded, "let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine."

Prince Rhaegar shook his head. "My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour."

Jaime's anger had risen up in his throat. "I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard."

"Then guard the king," Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. "When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey."

Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return."

Those were the last words Rhaegar Targaryen ever spoke to him. Outside the gates an army had assembled, whilst another descended on the Trident. So the Prince of Dragonstone mounted up and donned his tall black helm, and rode forth to his doom.

A Feast for Crows - Jaime I

There’s no mention of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon, nor is there any reason to believe Rhaegar would have left them in King’s Landing knowing Aerys’ state of mind. And since Aerys did prevent Elia from leaving for Dragonstone and kept her and her children hostages in King’s Landing, it makes sense to come to the conclusion that between Rhaegar leaving for the Trident and news of his death reaching King’s Landing, Aerys ordered Elia and her children back to the capital.

But where is it said?

[thedeathlysallows]

Anne

This is a dark!Caius Volturi fic and will contain the following: descriptions of murder, death, and suicidal ideations. Manipulation, coercion, religious trauma, witchcraft, sexism, sex, blood.

My warnings are not exhaustive. Proceed with caution.

Chapter One

“Anne,” the deep baritone of Father’s voice pulls me from my thoughts in an instant. His face, twisted with rage and disgust, is right next to my own as he grabs me by the elbow and hauls me from the tavern. The night is dark and the air is cold, filling my lungs with the crisp scent of Autumn.

I was so close. 

So close to freedom. 

So close to a life far from his reach. 

Of course, I thought it would take him longer to figure out he played right into my hand. I thought I would have a few days head start before he came looking for me to drag me back to his miserable home. All so he would have his own maid or so he could sell me off to the highest bidder. 

“We’re leaving,” he tells me. 

I tilt my chin up and meet his gaze, the fire in his eyes threatening to spill over and consume my soul. He hates me. I know he does. He’s hated me since the moment I drew my first breath and Mother drew her last. In his mind I’m nothing more than the thing that killed his wife and he’s always hated me for it. 

I straighten my shoulders. “I’m not going back home.”

He looks at me for a moment, the fire dimming before blazing even brighter. “No. You aren’t. Come along, Anne.”

“No.”

I can hear the autumn leaves crunching beneath heavy boots as two men appear at the edge of the dark woods, their figures looming and shrouded in the night. They move to my father’s side, ghostly and silent, and I can finally recognize them in the flickering light of Father’s torch. 

William and Henry. Two boys the same age as me. Two boys whose fumbling attempts at seduction left me laughing in their faces. Two boys who swore revenge before Father had cast me out of his home. 

William refuses to make eye contact with me, but Henry at the very least has the courtesy to nod ever so slightly, his short shearn hair and neatly trimmed beard giving him the appearance of someone far older. 

“Best follow your father,” he says simply. 

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll be making this needlessly difficult.”

“And what is ‘this’?” The question comes out of my mouth unbidden. Deep down I know I needn’t ask at all. I know what this is. I know what’s about to happen to me. I’ve watched this same process from afar time and again. 

I turn to Father. “You hate me so much you would actually do this? Me, your own flesh and blood?”

It isn’t Father who answers. William suddenly finds his voice, face flushed pink in anger. “Witch! You seduce men with your silver tongue before selling our souls to the devil!”

“I-”

My voice fails me. Almost two decades of being able to talk my way out of anything, and now my gift fails.

William points to me, turning to look at Henry and Father. “See? She does not deny it.”

I’ve never minded being called witch before. I’ve never minded when people would balk at the bright red of my hair, whispering to one another as I walked through town. I accepted being the thing they feared. None of it bothered me because I always knew there was no evidence to any of it. I never left any. I have always been a step ahead of everyone else. 

I shake my head and square my shoulders. “I do not deny it because it is absolutely ridiculous!”

Father says nothing for a long moment. He observes me coolly, thoughtfully, before something finally clicks in his eyes. “Would you swear to it on your older brother’s life? Would you swear on Carlisle’s life that you are not in league with the same demons we hunt?”

And there it is. My loophole. I can promise I’m no friend to vampires without damning Carlisle’s soul. It might be too late for mine, but I can save his at the very least.

“I have nothing to do with vampires, Father. I swear on Carlisle’s life.

Father sighs heavily. “Vampires are not the only demons we kill.”

Henry and William seize me by my upper arms and drag me down the cobblestone road behind Father. We pass few people on our trek, and the ones we do meet quickly avert their gaze lest they be cursed by the witch. None of the three men stop until we come to the edge of a lake. The water ripples ever so slightly, as if someone got out in a rush, but it’s mostly disturbingly serene. No one is sure exactly how deep the lake goes, and the ones who do know will never be able to tell. 

The three of them walk me to the end of a small wooden dock.

Father turns abruptly and glares down at me. “Anne Cullen, you have been tried and found guilty of witchcraft. What is your reply?”

I bare my teeth, trying to get out of Henry and William’s grip. “I should have killed you the second I had a chance!”

He bends down, face inches from my own. He reeks of must and self-righteousness. “And I should have smothered you the second you killed your mother.”

I’ve imagined my life ending many ways many times. Perhaps I would jump from the belfry of my father’s beloved church. Ironically, I have even dreamed of drowning myself in the same manner Father seems to be preparing. Tie heavy blocks to my ankles and fall back into the water. Or maybe I would happen to stumble across on of his precious vampires and they would do the honor. What if I begged them to do the honor? Would they. Would a monster like them even want a monster like me?

William is the one to tie the ropes around my ankle while Father and Henry observe. Father watches each motion of William’s hands, watches my reaction to the bite of the twine against my skin. I do not flinch. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing anything save for cold malice on my face. Henry refuses to meet my eyes.

“Any last words, witch?” William teases me, his blue eyes hard as steel.

I smile before spitting into his face. “I’ll save you a spot in Hell, William.”

He grips my shoulder so roughly I almost flinch. “You should have just let me fuck you like the whore you are. You’ll spread your legs for every man but me?”

“I would spread my legs for a woman before I let that tiny prick of yours anywhere near me.”

William grabs a fistful of my hair and shoves me forward, dangling me over the lake. “Ready to die so soon?”

“I would rather die free than ever be shackled to a man such as you. Mark my words, I will haunt all of you for the rest of your lives.”

Water rushes around me, cold and unforgiving. It’s dark and silent as I sink down to the bottom of the lake. If I look up I can make out the three of them leaving, certain I’m dead, or at least very well on the way. My lungs scream for air and I desperately flail around, trying my best to untie the rope around my ankles. Black spots crowd my vision as my head grows light and fuzzy.

I can’t feel the ropes anymore.

I can’t feel anything.

My eyes are heavy.

I want to close them.

So I do.

[sniperjade]

I did a thing! It's not perfect but it's simple and it's mine. Playing around with contrasting colours to make this picture of James and Regulus snogging against a tree.

It made it to go with the cute little Jegulus that I wrote for the Dumbledore's Armada "Confessions of a Teenage Flash Comp" Challenge.

Everywhere

Regulus Black was the best at everything. Top marks in every subject. His mastery of a broom was so well-known that league teams had already tried to recruit him. A fact that disgusted the boy himself. He looked down his nose at them, the same way he did with everyone that wasn’t part of the sacred twenty-eight. He was polite and charming to those he deemed worthy. The shining star of Slytherin. James couldn’t help but watch him.

Regulus’ brother Sirius however, wished he would die in a muggle dumpster fire. He’d just moved out of home and the hatred for his family had boiled over into resentment and bitterness toward his brother. The brother that his parents adored. The one everyone talked about. James weathered his complaints with weary fondness.

James hated their divide. When he looked at Regulus, and he often looked at Regulus, he saw a bow, strung so tightly that any movement might break it. The perfect poster child walking a tightrope of expectation. One that he could tumble from at any moment. Sirius couldn’t see it. Refused to see it, blinded by his own misfortune.

Sirius was obsessed with the guitar he had bought over the Christmas break. He’d learnt a few easy songs like “Go Your Own Way” and “Take it Easy” and dazzled other students regularly by playing out in the courtyard. He’d been surrounded by fawning onlookers when Regulus walked past.

“Is this what you’ve amounted to?” Regulus hissed. Every part of him was tensed, a tiger ready to strike. “Centuries of tradition all thrown away so you can become – what? A common minstrel?”

Sirius passed his guitar to Remus and stood up to his brother. “You mean centuries of hatred and repression? What did you get up to on the holidays, little brother? Mother and father finally figured out which eligible young heiress to marry you off to?”

Regulus looked at his older brother with flat dead eyes. “No, but I suppose that duty does fall down to me now. As has everything.”

Regulus turned and stormed off, Snape glaring at them from his side. James couldn’t help but watch him leave. Regulus was a walking contradiction. He was so passionate and intense yet he held it inside himself with an iron will. Sirius let his passion run free. Evident in everything he did. His laugh. The way he walked with his head held high and a bright smile on his face.

James remembered the boy that was. The Sirius he first met on the train that day. So broken and nervous that he’d refused to speak until James had made a fool of himself trying to catch a chocolate frog. It had taken him hours to wear him down It could barely be seen in the young man now, but James remembered. He’d always remember.

“That little arrogant little toe rag,” cursed Sirius. “Thinks he’s all that.”

James shrugged.

“He’s carrying a lot, Sirius.”

Sirius’ face twisted up into a sneer.

“He doesn’t fucking have to! He could leave!”

 “Where would he go?” replied James, raising his brow as he stood. “To you?”

Sirius shut his mouth with a snap but could only glare and ball his fists.

“Enough,” continued James. “Everyone is tense. There’s people dying out there are we’re just sitting here squabbling. I’ve got an idea. It’s a little ridiculous but I’m hoping it should bring some light into the castle again.”

He rested his hands on his hips and gave them a smile.

“Who’s with me?”

continued on Ao3...

[imkeepinit]

Facebook post by Georgia McBride, September 13, 2016

I'm angry and hurt today. I've read some of your posts on my feed in recent weeks. Said nothing. Felt the sting of your words, but said nothing. Long post to follow. Please forgive typos. Feel free to share. My posts are set to "public. "Today, I will speak. I will speak because some athletes not standing for our flag doesn't affect you. Sure. It might anger you, but it does not affect the quality of your life. But every time a black person is gunned down and the video is played over and over on national and international TV, it affects me. It affects my kids and my family. And we're not criminals. We aren't walking down the street wearing hoodies and carrying Skittles and Iced Tea. You know, like a criminal who deserves to be killed. And when YOU defend that action, it affects me. It affects all of us. And you know what else? It affects my husband. It makes his job a lot less safe and it makes him a target of additional violence and hatred. If you want to "unfriend" me, go right ahead. If you want to label me, I assure you, I have been called worse than anything you can fathom. I have been treated BY COPS in the most disrespectful and blatantly racist ways. I don't speak about it in public to protect my husband. One day, I will, to protect my children. If you don't get that we have a problem in this country with the way blacks and whites are treated, you and I aren't really friends to begin with. It isn't a difference of opinion. We don't "disagree." It is a fundamental underlying point of view that sets you above me in a position to determine whether blacks have a legitimate right to be heard on their grievances and have those grievances addressed. And because those grievances don't directly affect you, you dismiss them and employ the same tactics as those who victim shame women who are sexually assaulted, raped and beaten. Ryan Locthe went to represent the United States to the world in another country. He committed a crime, lied about it and fled prosecution. This is a true disgrace to our country. The Constitution doesn't protect his right to commit crimes in other countries or flee responsibility for them. I never once saw anyone call him a criminal, anti-American or refer to his race when referencing the crime. No real outrage except to dismiss him as dumb, a tool, a jerk. Yet, more people are outraged that an American football player who represents his team, not the United States, refuses to stand for the national anthem. More people are concerned that Gabby Douglas didn't place a hand over her heart during the anthem than they were about Ryan Locthe's criminal behavior. Several other athletes (white) never covered their hearts during the anthem and crickets. No outrage. None from the Internet patriots. No posts about how lucky they were to be chosen to represent the country and how they failed to show gratitude. Fast forward. All ppl posting negative comments re Colin Kaepernick, meet Georgia McBride. Let me address what I've seen you call the man "and others like him." I'm not a spoiled millionaire athlete. I'm not "ignorant." I don't hate cops. I don't hate America. I'm not leaving America - tho nice try. I stand for the anthem. I'm not "brainwashed" by Black Lives Matter. My mother does not have 20 kids by 10 different men. My father never abandoned us. I am not on welfare. Don't know anyone who is. I am not on drugs. Don't know anyone who is. I'm not racist. No really. I'm not. 95% of my friends are white. I come from a family of Ivy-League and City and State college-educated people. My husband is a cop as was his father and uncle. My brother was a cop. My father was in the military. My cousins are in the military. I was never a latch-key kid. I don't know anyone in a gang. My cousin is a politician. I have never lived in the "projects." I have teachers, nurses, businessmen, former FDNY in my immediate and extended family. So what will you call me? How will you disparage me? My kids? My family? My friends? How will you discredit me? How will use my skin color and background to prove I'm wrong and uninformed? How will you convince the world that I am brainwashed by Black Lives Matter? How will write me off as a gang-banging, welfare-loving, no-father-in-the-house-having, Black Lives Matter racist terrorist? I owe my entire life to protests - both peaceful and violent. To civil disobedience, and acts of courage and defiance that seem inappropriate or un-American and at the time, were illegal. Neither laws nor minds nor hearts are changed by silence and compliance. Think about that. Maybe it is disrespectful to kneel during the national anthem, but the Constitution protects that right same as it does for civilian gun ownership, which you all know I am fervently against. Back to protests. Were it not for brave protests like this one, my life and that of my family would be vastly different. I ask you to think about that next time you label something a "joke" or "disgusting" or "wrong" or post disparaging memes and comments about a few young men doing what they can to change the lives of many and who are giving a voice to those without one. I ask you NOT to judge them on what YOU feel they should be doing, but rather what they are doing. Would you risk your job, future income, personal safety and that of your family and friends to bring attention to injustice in this country? How do you not realize that this is what they're doing? Should I have to risk my job, my home, my life just to have the same rights afforded to you? Just to be able to have my kids walk down the street in their own neighborhood without being suspected of being a criminal or worse, shot to death? All those people saying he is disrespecting the military - think about this. This is HIS way of fighting. He has no protection. No training. Few people on his side. He is fighting here, in the United States, as people have threatened to kill him and his family. People burn his jersey on YouTube, football fans are filled with so much hatred that they are vowing never to watch football again in order to bankrupt the NFL. Why? Because a few black men kneeled or sat during the national anthem. These people are more concerned with this than WHY the men did what they did. Think about how YOUR comments and YOUR actions impact those around you. Think about how the memes which started out as calling him anti-American have now have turned blatantly racist. THINK ABOUT THAT. Think about how your lack of concern for the people he is speaking out for reflects on you. Think about all the smart white people telling the not-too-smart black people how to solve problems in "the black community" as if they have any clue at all? And the kicker? Posting the one or two black people who share your POV as proof that the millions of other blacks and whites are actually wrong. Please stop. PLEASE STOP. You stand for the national anthem at sporting events. Big deal. I'm guessing you don't when you're out to eat and a game is on. Or when you're watching the game at home. Nope. Only when people can see you and judge you for how patriotic they think you are. If it weren't for people calling bullshit on this country, our kids wouldn't be in school together. I wouldn't have my own business. My husband would not be allowed to be a cop. I would not have been allowed to marry my husband. It would've been illegal for me to have both my kids. As a woman I would not have been allowed to have credit in my own name or to have property such as a house or car in my own name. We would not have equal pay for equal work. I wouldn't be able to live in the neighborhood that I currently live in. Local friends, we would not have a female Chief of Police. I reprimand and punish my kids because I love them. To teach them that what they did was wrong so they won't do it again. Does this mean I hate my kids? I'm anti-children? If my spouse does something to hurt me and I tell him about it - I ask him to change - it isn't because I don't love him. If someone has an issue with a teacher or a doctor - do they hate teachers and doctors? Are they anti-education and anti-medical science? If someone has an issue with a cop's behavior, this makes him anti-cop? Un-American? Oh wait. We need to get right in this country. We need to recognize the problems we have and address them, no matter how painful. No matter if they don't affect us. Feel free to speak out against an athlete not standing for the national anthem because yeah - that's the change we need. All will be right in this country once NFL players return to showing respect for the national anthem. That's sarcasm.

[yuseonghqs]

🌊 GREETINGS FROM YUSEONG BAY !

JUST LANDED: SEOK, YECHAN. / / FROM: SOUTH KOREA. / / AGE: 24.

–––– ( FOLLOW ? ) / / ( READ MORE ? ) / / ( MAILBOX ? )

A look into Seok Yechan’s five most recent Naver searches.

(tw: hospitals, mention of accidents)

1. parcel delivery jeju to seoul 

Seok Yedam’s nineteenth birthday arrives exactly two months after relocating to Seoul for university. His older brother surprises him with a pair of gleaming new sneakers, flashier than any he’s ever owned, purchased with his inaugural paycheck from the hotel. Meticulously wrapped inside a cardboard box salvaged from their father’s storage room, layers and layers of bubble wrap cushioning the overnight journey. It comes with a handwritten note, short and sweet — 

        for your first birthday out of jeju. don’t skimp on the seaweed soup.                 — yechan hyung

Seok Yechan clocks out of his twelve-hour shift to a bright, bustling afternoon. He’s still clad in his work attire, navy blue suit creased from hours of escorting opening week crowds. The post office isn’t too far, thankfully, and he makes it just in time before closing. Green form in hand, each section being filled in with care — Recipient’s Address: YONSEI UNIVERSITY scribed out in big, bold letters. Thoughtful eyes linger on the familiar name, and he begins to ponder on the roads not taken. But it’s all cut short when the attendant calls his number, warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he hands the parcel over.

–

2. anticoagulant where to buy near me

Boo Sunja was rushed to the emergency room six years ago in the midst of diving along the coast of Yuseong Bay with her fellow haenyeo. Her thirdborn walks home after completing his suneung, the bright-eyed Yonsei hopeful eager to celebrate. Though he doesn’t make it any farther from the daycare, where he picks up his baby sister as he always does after school. A frantic dash to his mother’s side of the hospital bed, all festivities planned for the night washed over by a wave of worry that carries on. 

An acceptance letter arrives at his doorstep one month later, white and royal blue, but a white lie slips out of his lips instead. He’ll go to trade school in Jeju City, he says. It’s a blessing in disguise. He’ll get to take care of her this way.

Yebin turns eight this year, leaving her and Yechan in the Seok household. Sunja’s only just stopped diving, albeit not by choice — the severance pay from the resort was simply something she couldn’t refuse. The matriarch’s sitting alone on the dinner table, gaze fixed on the empty chairs that once held her family. Her son walks in, moves to comfort her. He shares the news that he’s been offered a concierge role. He couldn’t tell if her tears were more bitter or sweet.

–

3. premier league standings today

Self-explanatory. We love you Tottenham, we do.

–

4. how to write resignation letter

Gye Wonjin took a leap of faith two years ago, when a fresh graduate timidly steps into his office with a cover letter and diploma in hand. Potential’s not difficult to notice, so he doesn’t hesitate to take him under his wing. Smaller projects fill their portfolio, local housing developments along the bay not out of the ordinary to a small town like Yuseong. The wheel keeps turning as it does, and it’s not until they hear news about an upcoming resort where it finally spins in their favour.

Seok Yechan’s meant to take the day off, but he covers for his boss nonetheless. The site’s much busier today, a striking contrast of sharp suits amidst the routine crowd of hi-vis vests. Potential’s not difficult to notice by any trained eye, it turns out, whether it’s Gye Wonjin’s years in the construction business or hotel management looking to expand their reach. A sleek business card gleams in hand, embossed and glossy in the sunlight. There’s no harm in branching out, one of them remarks. So he walks into the same office two years later, no longer timid, and slides his four weeks notice across the table.

–

5. woori bank 24 hour customer service 

Seok Eunchul finds himself ensnared in the grip of temptation every night, a vice that tightens its hold with each roll of the dice and every shuffled deck of cards. His son comes home to a stack of ominous letters glaring accusingly, each one adorned in Woori’s white and blue, bearing a demand that never goes unchanged. Another set of overdue bills, overdraft charges — never-ending, much like the ceaseless arguments that come after between him and Sunja.

Seok Yechan doesn’t utter a word. Instead, scrapes together what little remains of his savings, envelopes of crumpled notes from birthdays and chuseok and whatever windfalls he keeps inside an unassuming shoebox under his bed. Fingers reaching out for his phone to dial in his older sister’s number, just like clockwork. The way the words that fall out of lips, too, falter with a similar desperation. Just this once, he pleads, promising it will be the last time. (Spoiler alert, it never is.)

[ladyartemesia]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...

Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut

Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers

Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi

Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •

Acknowledgements:

To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.

To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 

To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 

To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 

Please Picture This Taehyung:

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”

“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”

Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 

“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”

“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 

“You RECORDED IT?!”

Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”

“He did WHAT?!”

Your mother winced. 

“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”

“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”

Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 

“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”

Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 

“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”

The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 

“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 

“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 

You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 

For now.

“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 

For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 

“Kim Taehyung.”

You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 

“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”

The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 

“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”

“I could pay you more.”

“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”

“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”

If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.

“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”

Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.

“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 

“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 

“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”

The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 

However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 

Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 

Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 

In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  

Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 

The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 

“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 

He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 

“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”

Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 

He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 

That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 

In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 

But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 

A woman. 

Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 

Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 

Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 

Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 

His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 

“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”

And just like that the brat was back. 

Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 

“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 

Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 

“Of course not,” he chuckled.

The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 

Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 

You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 

“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”

“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 

“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”

“Harkins?”

“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”

Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 

“Okay... What about Kang?” 

“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 

“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”

“She was about to grab your ass.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s eighty-five!”

“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”

“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 

“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”

Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 

“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 

You shrugged. 

“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”

“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”

The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 

Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”

“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”

Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 

“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 

“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 

A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 

“I can think of several women who might disagree.”

He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 

“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 

“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”

It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 

It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 

The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 

“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 

“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”

Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 

It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”

Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 

Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 

An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 

“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 

Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 

“Sir?”

“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”

“You want me to what?!” 

“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 

Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 

1 New Message from: Jungkook

Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 

Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 

You picked up on the fourth ring. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”

“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”

“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”

“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”

The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 

“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”

He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 

“Are you alone?”

You snorted. 

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Taehyung saw red. 

“I’m coming over.”

There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 

“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”

“With who?!”

“With myself, you idiot!”

“Prove it!”

“Fine! I will!”

The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

He almost choked on his tongue. 

You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  

At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…

A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 

You were exquisite. 

A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 

Desire. 

Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 

I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 

Your head tilted in confusion. 

There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-

Oh NO.

You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 

… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 

Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 

“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”

Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 

“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”

“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”

“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 

“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”

Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 

PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA

WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS

NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 

“The Park Angel?” 

“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 

“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”

As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 

“This is a flaming disaster.”

“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”

“Which one was that?!” 

“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”

Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 

“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”

“She has. Twice.”

“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”

After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 

By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).

You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 

Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 

Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 

Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 

“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 

Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-

He peeked again.

I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 

“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 

The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.

You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 

The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 

For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...

Taehyung was laughing. 

You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 

But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 

Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 

“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 

Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...

Almost. 

“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 

Disaster struck at dinner. 

Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 

The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—

Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 

Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 

“I-I need—” 

It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 

“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 

“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 

“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”

“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 

At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 

You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 

“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”

Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 

“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”

The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 

“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”

You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.

“Why won’t this—”

His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 

“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 

You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 

There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 

“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”

He blinked. Twice. 

“I’m sorry—What did you just—”

“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”

He gulped. 

His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—

Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 

(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 

Oh.

His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 

Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 

“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 

Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 

You were so warm.

So soft...

“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 

His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 

“Hold on to me.”  

You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 

You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 

Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 

He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 

“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”

You drew in a final steadying breath. 

“Do it.”

He nodded. 

“One… Two… Three—”

Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 

Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 

The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 

And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 

It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—

“... Is… everything alright here?”

You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 

Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 

He gulped again. 

“I can explain.” 

It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 

Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 

Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 

Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 

Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 

His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 

Just like you.

He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 

Lies.

… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 

Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 

The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

I made it home safely. 

Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 

To: Park Gremlin

I require proof… like last time. 

He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 

You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 

And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-

The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 

His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-

And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.

At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 

same mirror.

Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 

The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 

He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 

 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”

Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

Green is my favorite color. 

“WHERE IS HE—”

Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 

Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 

“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 

“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”

Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 

“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”

Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 

KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL

FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION

NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 

PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE

He winced a bit at that last one. 

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”

“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 

Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 

“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”

Taehyung sighed heavily. 

“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”

“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 

“WHAT?!” 

“NO! Mother! Oh my—”

“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”

Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 

“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”

Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 

“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 

He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 

Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 

You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 

Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 

Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 

Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 

“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.

“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”

The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 

For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 

Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 

Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 

It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 

“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”

The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 

“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”

“I avoided them.”

I avoided you. 

Milo nodded. 

“I—I figured.” 

He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Excuse me.” 

You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 

“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 

You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 

“No—please if you just give me a minute—”

“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”

Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 

“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”

Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 

After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 

“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”

Taehyung laughed. 

“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 

You grinned. 

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 

(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 

“I wish I could forget about Milo.”

“... Are you still in love with him?” 

The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 

“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”

Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 

“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”

you. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 

“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”

Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 

“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”

Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 

“I should kill him.”

You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 

“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”

“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”

It would be so easy to care for you. 

“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”

You nodded. 

“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”

The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 

“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”

“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”

“... Like you?” 

The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 

“What’s going on, guys?”

You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 

Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 

“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”

Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 

“Where is he?”

“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 

The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 

The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 

Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 

His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 

“You look like a vampire.”

Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 

You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 

If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 

Still…

Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 

“I think I’m offended.”

“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 

“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”

You shrugged playfully. 

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”

A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 

This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 

Lord have mercy. 

“Of course not,” he coughed. 

“You’re what?!”

You rolled your eyes.

Tonight had been going rather well. 

The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...

Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 

“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”

“Does your brother know about this?!”

“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 

“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”

“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”

You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 

“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”

“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”

Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 

“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”

“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 

“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”

Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 

“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 

Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 

After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.

Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 

Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 

Then it was your turn. 

“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 

“Eleven thousand.”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sixteen thousand dollars.”

“Seventeen thousand.”

“Eighteen.”

Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 

“Twenty thousand.”

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 

Milo.

Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 

“Forty thousand.”

Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 

You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 

No. 

Milo was still bidding. 

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Not her. 

“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.

She’s mine. 

Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 

“One hundred thousand dollars!” 

The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 

Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 

The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 

And hope. 

Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 

His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 

You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—

Yet you never dared hope for it. 

However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 

For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 

Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…

But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 

It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 

The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 

“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 

Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”

“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Do you want to see?” 

Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 

You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—

Then he nodded...

And you both were lost. 

Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 

Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 

“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 

He bit back a moan. 

“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You nodded. 

“Kiss it better.”

Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 

This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 

He knew he shouldn’t—

but he could never deny you. 

“Of course.”

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 

It was for you. 

He wanted you. 

Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 

Touch me… please. 

Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 

Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 

“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 

Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.

Sweet merciful heavens. 

Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 

You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 

The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 

“T-Tae—”

Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—

He was marking you. 

And you wanted it. 

Oh how you wanted it. 

Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.

“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 

You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 

“Speak up.”  

“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 

“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”

Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—

“Madame. We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 

Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 

Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 

Did we just...

You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 

1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈

I need to know you made it safely to your room. 

You grinned. 

Greedy boy. 

Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.

Taehyung growled in frustration. 

She would be a tease. 

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 

He shook his head. 

I have officially gone insane. 

The phone buzzed again. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Well… We can’t have that can we… 

Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 

Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 

The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 

He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel

The screen lit up again almost immediately. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...

Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.

“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”

Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 

“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”

“I need to talk to him now.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”

Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 

“I know he’s up there.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”

“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 

Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 

“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”

“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”

The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 

A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 

“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”

“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”

Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”

He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 

“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”

“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”

Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 

“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”

“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”

Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”

“Oh… Well.”

Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 

“He has to come down eventually.”

“One would think.”

The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 

"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 

Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 

“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”

“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”

Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 

“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”

Jimin stopped struggling. 

“Oh?”

Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”

“However…”

“... However?”

“I had to give him your spa passes.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”

“It’s complimentary, sir.”

The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 

Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 

“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”

Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 

“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”

The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 

Both men winced. 

“I think that was your grandmother’s.”

Taehyung sighed. 

“I admit there have been… some developments.”

Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 

“... Such as?”

Taehyung gulped. 

“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”

“There may have been? Are you not sure?”

Taehyung colored guiltily. 

“Well—”

“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 

“Things have… escalated a bit.”

“Escalated how?”

I licked her tit in the back of a limo.

“Physically.”

It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 

“That’s… shocking.”

“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 

A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.

“So what are you going to do, sir?”

Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 

“I honestly have no idea.”

Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  

Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 

Your dress tonight was deadly. 

It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 

Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 

Oh help. 

Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 

So he didn’t say anything at all. 

Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—

And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”

The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 

Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 

“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”

“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 

She is definitely trying to kill me. 

“Should I be worried?”

Now it was your turn to grin. 

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 

But it was well worth the price of admission.

Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 

It was like stepping into a fairytale. 

Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 

You were breathtaking.  

“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”

The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 

“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”

Your eyes widened. 

“N-nephew?”

Taehyung shrugged. 

“I don’t really talk about it much.” 

The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 

“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”

“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”

“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”

You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 

The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 

“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”

Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 

Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 

All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...

Until she showed up. 

“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”

Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”

“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”

Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 

Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”

Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 

“Yes. Of course. This is—”

“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”

“His date,” you deadpanned. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”

“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”

Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 

“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”

Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 

Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 

“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”

Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 

“Some other time perhaps.” 

Aubrey pouted prettily. 

“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 

“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”

“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 

“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 

“Aubrey... Listen I—”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”

He grinned. 

“Never.”

The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.

“What a shame.”

Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 

“You know what I don’t understand?”

You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 

“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”

The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 

Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.

“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Oh he’s good. 

You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 

“Couldn’t be me.”

You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 

Alas. 

You tilted your head speculatively. 

Surely there was no need to brush away good company...

After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 

“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

Yoongi held out his hand. 

“I’d be delighted.”

Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  

Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you

—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 

It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 

Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 

Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 

“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”

Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 

“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”

“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”

You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine

“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 

Oh boy. 

Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 

This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 

You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 

Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 

Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 

“Are you alright?”

His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 

You glared. 

“Just fine, thank you.”

A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  

On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded sharply. 

Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 

Yet you made no move to stop him. 

You should have. 

You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—

But you didn’t. 

So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 

You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 

“T-Taehyung—” 

“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).

“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.

You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 

However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head

“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 

Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 

You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 

Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 

“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”

Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 

Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.

It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 

“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 

At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 

“Ms. Park, are you well?”

Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 

“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”

Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.

Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 

There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 

“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 

Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 

When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—

just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 

Emotions were a funny thing. 

They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 

And occasionally eroded your common sense. 

Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 

His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 

His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 

His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 

It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 

Frustration—

I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!

Rage—  

Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 

Jealousy—

You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 

But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 

You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 

He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...

But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 

Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 

Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 

And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—

Emotion became action.

“Mind if I cut in?”

It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 

“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”

Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”

Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 

“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”

The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 

“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”

“I did!”

“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”

“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”

“But—”

“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”

“You didn’t come after me!”

“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”

“Really? Well what else did she grab?”

Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 

People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 

Well that’s great. 

Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.

“What are you doing?”

“Continuing this discussion in private.”

“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 

“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”

Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 

The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 

After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 

You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 

On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.

However—

The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 

Reflection suite indeed. 

The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.

“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”

“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because you were shouting—”

“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”

Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 

He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 

But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 

He had to kiss you then. 

You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 

The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 

Finally. 

Everything was him. 

Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 

“Taehyung—”

His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—

Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 

“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”

Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.

Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 

But not today. 

The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.

“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.

“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 

“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 

He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.

It was so so good. 

“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”

If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 

But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 

“Yes!” you sobbed.

The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.

Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 

“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”

His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 

“You’ve been saying that for years.” 

“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 

Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 

Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.

“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”

His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 

“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”

The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 

After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 

“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 

Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”

The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 

“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.

“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”

You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.

“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 

You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.

“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 

Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 

You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 

Almost. 

"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”

Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 

"Please—" you whispered.

"Please who?" 

Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 

"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 

He grinned. 

“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”

Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 

Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 

Underneath a giant mirror. 

The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-

And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 

Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 

Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 

“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”

The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 

The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—

You shattered. 

And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 

Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 

The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 

Then he was kissing you again. 

It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.

You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 

Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 

“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.

You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 

He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 

It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.

“Of course,” you muttered. 

The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.

“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”

“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 

“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 

After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 

“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 

You gasped against him and he smiled. 

“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”

You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 

“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 

His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 

“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”

Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 

The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 

Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 

After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 

“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”

His praise was addictive. 

You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 

It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 

Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—

Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 

Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.

“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 

The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”

You did. 

You wanted it so so bad. 

“Please.”

Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 

“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”

He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 

Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 

There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 

Then your world caught fire. 

Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 

Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—

Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 

The feel of him was indescribable. 

You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 

He was bloomin’ magnificent. 

Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 

“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”

“Yes—”

Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.

He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 

You were his. 

And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 

Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.

He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—

This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 

And now… he couldn’t look away. 

The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.

Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 

“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”

Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 

“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.

“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 

The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 

Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 

Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 

He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   

“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 

Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 

“Tae! Ah-ahh!”

The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—

“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.

And then you flew apart. 

Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 

“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”

“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 

“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”

“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 

“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 

Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 

“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 

The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.

“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 

His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 

"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 

He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  

His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—

The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 

“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”

Then he frowned. 

“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”

Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 

“Kendra.”

Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—

And insanely gorgeous. 

Taehyung groaned. 

Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.

KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 

One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 

“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”

“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”

“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”

“I’ll kill you.”

“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 

“Why should I wait?!”

“Because—”

“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”

“The situation is just not that simple.” 

“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”

“Admittedly not my finest hour.”

“So you tell me right now—”

“But you don’t understand it’s—”

“—Why the hell would I wait?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

For a moment there was absolute silence. 

Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 

“Really?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open. 

Taehyung groaned again. 

“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.

“Are you really in love with me?”

“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It is for me!”

A radiant smile lit up your face. 

“I’m in love with you too.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. 

“Angel I—”

Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.

“Oh! No no no—Come on!”

He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 

“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 

“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 

This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 

If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.

I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.

[phantoms-lair]

Batfam Snippet- Post Siege of Gotham

Danny supposed he should be feeling relief. It was over. The city was standing and the GiW were called back and officially denounced as rogue when they refused to follow the order to retreat, leaving them to be arrested by the Justice League with a few stragglers leaving.

And he knew he should be checking in with Bruce and the GPD but...he just felt kind of hollow now that the adrenaline from the evening had faded.

"You need to let them go."

Danny leaped up, ectobolt charging in his hand, but the newcomer didn't even flinch. Instead he sat down besides him.

He was a young man with a white streak in his hair wearing what looked like a leather jacket over a black outfit with lots of bandoliers. "Jack and Maddie Fenton. You need to stop thinking of them as your parents."

The blast vanished and Danny felt something sour curl in his gut. He'd been so focused on the GiW he'd managed to avoid thinking about who sent them after him, who gave them his ectosignature.

"You know the really fucked up thing? They honestly think they're helping me. They think that my powers are corrupting who I am and that they have to save me from them."

"They're not trying to save you. They don't give a crap about you. They want to save this imaginary kid they came up with in their heads so they wouldn't have to face being wrong. You're just collateral. I know it sounds harsh but...I learned the hard way."

The man fingered a red helmet under his arm. "I was adopted by someone I felt really cared about me, but when my birth mother called for help, said she was in trouble, I took off running. It was a trap. She knew- she knew I would die if I came. And she still called me. And I went because I still thought of her as my mother. So let me tell you after getting beaten to death by a crowbar and brought back to life in some strange magic juice pit, don't let them have the power over you that the memory of 'parent' has. Don't forget, a group of supervillains who never met you did more for your wellbeing last night than your parents. Focus more on the people who do care for you and less on the people who should."

The man got up to leave. "And when you get back to the Manor, tell Bruce Jason says hi."

He wasn't ready to go back, not yet. But he'd be damned if he let his newest little brother repeat history.

[shyestofhearts]

Shy!!! I hurt myself 😭😭😭

I was listening to my sad playlist and realized that my angst ridden Damian would stare out his bedroom window at night, unable to sleep, and resonate with NF’s Let You Down.

Land now my hand slipped.

Like, Damian most definitely leaves. He’s done it before when he was younger, but In my angst driven au, he leaves Robin behind for good. He had died a second time, at fourteen years old, but no one saved him this time. Damian was fighting him mother’s men once more, though this time without backup (a bit reminiscent of Jason, I know, I’m sorry!). Talia in this story is not good, not anymore. Maybe it was one too many dips in the Lazarus pit or a curse of running the League, I don’t know. Neither does Damian. It means nothing anymore that he is her son, her child He has refused her too many times, humiliated her by his stance against her plans, and she is over it. Over him.

He’s fighting for his life, but despite being an excellent warrior, he’s horribly outnumbered. He hears his father’s voice in the back of his head throughout the fighting, about how it’s wrong to kill people, that’s not what we do.

But each soldier he spares, attacks five times harder. There’s literally hundreds rushing at him.

He tries to think of an escape route, of someway to escape, but there’s no time, not when he’s so surrounded.

Eventually, if he wants to escape, to live, Damian will have to kill.

The worse part is, Talia knows this. She knew his inner turmoil, and how this would effect Damian when he finally got to a place where he could think for more than a second at a time.

And that’s how she kills him.

He’s so distraught in the fact that he’s killed again, that his father, his family would be ashamed of what he’s done, that he doesn’t even notice his mother in the shadows. He hates himself for having to fall back on killing, because it was a massacre, because it came so easily. Talia doesn’t even need to do much. As Damian is pacing, body aching while his mind spirals, blood soaking him from his head to his toes, Talia picks up his bloody discarded sword. When Damian turns again, Talia stabs him through the same place Heretic did.

She doesn’t wait for him to die before leaving, just “Tsk,” she shakes her head. “It’s shameful how easily this was,” Talia says, face disgusted, before walking away.

It takes about two months for Damian to come back. When he manages to tear himself back to the land of the living, he’s still broken, still in that cave. No one came for him, not even to retrieve his body. Death was weird this time, he wasn’t exactly in Hell, not like before. Or maybe it was a different type of Hell? It was empty, cold. Damian could still feel the shackles, so cold it burned his wrists and throat. His throat was dreadfully sore from screaming into that empty void. The worst part of that place is how he was able to wander—to leave.

“Should you find your way out,” Death chuckled into his ear one time, after Damian could practically taste the blood in his mouth from screaming so much, “I shall not stop you.” Death pulled on the chain around Damian’s neck choking him once more, “You’ve already know what this feels like, and now you shall never not know,”

Damian dragged his broken body all the way back to Gotham. He had worried what happened to his family, for them not to even retrieve him. But, when Damian finally returned to the BatCave, he found everyone else there.

There was no major crisis. No off-world mission. Nothing different from the usual, anyway.

They all stopped and glanced at him, before returning to work, and Damian couldn’t help but wonder if this was another Hell. Through raspy and voice strained, he asks Pennyworth for help patching him up. Alfred agrees, isn’t cold, but isn’t exactly enthusiastic about Damian’s return. Hs

Bruce eventually gives Damian his attention, when Alfred is baffled at how Damian is still alive with the gaping hole in his chest. One of his brothers makes a joke about always knowing Damian was heartless. Alfred begins stitching him up, and leaving to get more blood for a transfusion, when it is clear there is nothing more that he can do. His siblings stare in horrified awe. As if he were some animal on exhibit.

“Did you think you’d get away with it?” Bruce asks, and Damian can already see the tick in his father’s jaw. Damian knows before Bruce even finishes, he can hear the same disappointed disgust that his mother’s tone had before walking away.

“It’s not what it seems—” He’d try to defend himself, but Bruce turns back to computer and plays video feed of Damian killing without hesitation. Damian knows that this, too, is his Mother’s doing. The angling of the video, the lack of background.

But that doesn’t stop the hurt at seeing his family look at him like he was some sort of monster. That he was to harm them next.

“They we’re going to kill me!” Damian wishes he could scream, but it came out more as a whine, “I was just trying to escape—“

“You know we don’t kill!” Bruce grounds out, “Yet you deliberately disobeyed me, by going therein the first place, then threw away our values—one of the most important ones, all while dressed as Robin!”

Damian, maybe before would have fought, but he’s died twice as Robin. The first time he felt fire, and this last he felt the burn of ice. Staring at his ‘family’ he briefly wonders if the know, if they care, that he died. Looking at the hard looks around the room, he decides that they probably do not. He grips the Robin cape beside him, remembering how much he wanted this. How he hoped it could somehow bring him closer to the father he always wished to know.

He clutches it silently as Alfred returns and orders he lay down. Damian walks over to the designated cot, before stopping in front of Bruce, his father.

“Don’t worry,” Damian whispers, unable to speak louder, “I won’t do that again,”

“If you think,” Bruce says, as some else scoffs, “That we are letting you back—“

Damian drops takes off his worn domino mask, and drops the cape at his father’s feet, silencing him.

“I quit”

The cave went silent once more, as Damian walked back to his cot.

That was two years before he became emancipated, four years ago.

He is alone, now, in his apartment. His work as a translator has paid him enough to live comfortably, and he got it without being a Wayne or Al Ghul. His art sells well on the side, as well.

However, every birthday that rolls around his mother still sends her men after him, and each year she has them return in an urn. Each year his father and siblings call, inviting him holiday dinners. He declines, not wanting to be lectured on the value of every human’s life, besides his own.

Instead, he puts on his midnight armor, and goes to patrol his town. Black armored suit and hooded eye mask hide him, as criminals war one another to keep an ear out for Whispers. The vigilante who was once Robin, carrying a sword and leaving the only warning of a whisper.

Damian tried to avoid running into the Bats, especially when they want to act like they were so close. Like they didn’t just think he was a monster, a failure, as a let down

—🪡🧵

Sew I just woke up and now I'm crying aksjsjjajdjs

Also, because this is very important to me, I need to know if Damian took his animals with him when he left

[thekingofwinterblog]

Do You Even Want To Be a Hero?

The Joker once famously said that all it takes to create a villain, a madman out of anyone, is “One bad day”.

On the surface, the league of villains seems to be an argument in favor for that statement.

For Shigaraki, it was the traumatic events that happened the night he killed his family.

for Toga, it was the day she snapped and attacked one of her fellow students for his blood.

and for Touya, it was the day he lit himself ablaze.

However, what the series goes out of its way to do, is to deconstruct the narrative that all it took was one bad day.

in Shigaraki’s case, while the events that killed his sister, his mother, his dog, and his grandparents were just an unavoidable accident, the way his father died was not.

shigaraki murdered his old man in a rage, lashing out against his abuser who had just hit him for the last time. the final part of an entierly avoidable drama of parental abuse.

even after the event, Shigaraki might not have turned into such a monster later in life, if a single person had reached out to try and help him in the aftermath of it all.

Toga’s case is a bit different, as what happened with her, was that she was was raised by her parents to hide away any bit of her natural bloodlust in order to fit into society, which predictably ended when her natural bloodlust reached a boiling point, and afterwards.... there was no way back.

Then, in Touya’s case, while the event that finally crystalized Dabi into a new person only took an afternoon, the actual process of him going completely nuts was the result of years, and years of emotional abuse and the utter refusal of his parents to actually get him mental help. leading to his one and only emotional support being his little brother, who was way too young to either understand Touya or actually help him.

in every case, there was a point where each of these three people could have turned out differently. 

In Shigaraki’s case, had anyone reached out a hand when he needed it, or if his dad hadnt been such a dick, and his family hadnt just stood by and let it happen, maybe things would have turned out differently.

in Toga’s case, when she first came home with that dead bird and her fascination with blood becoming obvious, her parents could probably have arranged some form of healthy outlet for their daughter’s lust for blood. instead they forced her to bury that bloodlust to fit in to society, leaving her with no way to actually deal with any of it, until one day she snapped.

in Touya’s case, his childhood was one, long, burning of abandonment issues, parental issues, and being raised to become something, until suddenly he wasnt good enough anymore, at which point his father literarily bred forth a third and fourth child to replace him.

it is easy to say that had Endeavor not been such a piece of shit dad, Touya might have turned out differently. this is absolutely true. but for this article, i wanted to explore the final moment of Touya Todoroki, the final real chance there was for someone to try and get him down a better path.

Touya did not have a good set of parents. while Endeavor was far and away the worse of the two, his wife also suffered from her own issues, in particularly a lack of selfawareness, and an inability to put her foot down, as we’ll explore here. 

Upon finding her son about to go out, Rei immediatly manages to piece out that he’s going out to train, but rather than doing the responsible thing, and forcing him to stay home if she doesnt want him to train, she instead tries cajoling with him instead, trying to make him abandon his training with words, when a strong, firm hand was what was required for the situation.

the sad thing is though, that she ALMOST suceeds.

Rei genuinly asks her son the one, singular question that actually has to be asked for him to consider it. the one singular line that manages to pierce through his obsession with living up the ideal successor his father burdened him with at a young age. 

its pretty clear that this isnt a question Touya has ever asked himself. and once he’s faced with it, he immediatly freezes on the spot.

rei asks him point blank if he actually WANTS this life his father has chose for him. its a powerfull moment, and frankly, if she had just handled this a bit better, Touya might have abandoned the path of a pro hero. instead, after having actually managed to pierce Touya’s shell, she immediatly ruins it.

note that what rei says here, isnt about him, not really. its about rei, her perspective on it all.

“As your mother... It looks to me like youre suffocating because of who your father is, and youre suffering for it.”

nothing of this is untrue. but its NOT what Touya needs to hear after her asking him if this seriously is something he actually wants. 

what Touya needed to hear in this moment, was that his mother would have his back no matter what he choses to do with his life. instead, he got a very generic speech that doesnt really hit anywhere close to the matter as her previous line is. 

She focuses on how SHE feels about it all, when the entire reason the actual question hit so hard was that for once in his life, somone asked him what HE actually wanted.

and not only that, but she follows that up with something much, much worse. by being incredibly hypocritical.

Rei asks her son to look beyond his father, that there are plenty of other roads to take, and if he just tries, she’s sure he’ll find the path that is “Right” for him. note, she isnt saying here that if Touya actually decides that yeah, he wants to be a pro, even if he does decides not to try and become the number one, she’ll support him. she’s telling him that he has other options, and to abandon the path his father once upon a time put him on. that is the only “right” choice.

coming Rei however, that sentiment is incredibly hypocritical. which her son calls her out on immediatly.

Rei asks her son to NOT follow the path his parents set for her.... when she did the exact same thing she just told him NOT to do.

Now, i want to make this perfectly clear that im NOT blaming Rei for any of the abuse endeavor put her, or their children thorugh. that is ALL on him. however, that does not make rei a saintly parent. not to shoto, not to her second and third child, and most certainly not to her oldest Touya.

though he phraces this in a really ugly way, and he does that because he knows it will hurt, touya isnt wrong. 

he spitefully calls his mother out on her having “No Choice” in wheter or not to go along with her parents selling her off as a bride for money, because that is what her parents wanted.

The fact of the matter however, is that Rei DID have a choice. that choice might very well have been between this marriage and either becoming destitute, remaining poor but still have a roof over their head, or being disinherited for refusing.

some would say that it wasnt a choice at all, and that she HAD to do this. but the fact remains, that rei COULD have refused. it wouldnt have been an easy choice, and one way or another, it WOULD have consequenses. but it was a choice nonetheless.

instead, she went along with what her parents wanted out of her. She went along with the sale, and she went along with it, knowing fully well that her new husband didnt marry her for love, for looks, for appearances sake, but exclusively for her genetics.

Endeavor wanted her quirk, and that, and NO OTHER reasons, is why Touya was born. 

Again, Touya words this in a really ugly way, but he is not wrong in this moment. Rei DOES share some blame for putting Touya on this path, because she went into the marriage with her husband knowing fully well that this was what endeavor wanted an heir for. to surpass him. the fact that she, unintentionally or othervise, tries to give advice withouth acknowledging that fact, and that she is trying to tell him to essentially “Do the opposite of what i did” withouth a shred of selfawareness of how hypocritial that sounds, is what really gets touya so mad in this scene.

that is the great tragedy and beauty of this scene. because Rei almost does get her son to begin questioning why he even wanted the stupid number one spot anyway... Then, not really understanding that she’s at an extremely critical point, she follows the moment up by completely ruining it, and instead making her son double down on the path, in part just to spite her hypocricy.

this was her final, last chance as Touya’s mother to prevent the creation of the monster he would become, and she screwed it up. not due to not caring, but an inability to actually understand her son’s perspective, and acknowledging her own shortcomings.

However, there is another layer to what happened in this scene, which is this earlier moment, which, if the order of the flashbacks is to be believed, happened before this talk with touya.

the thing is, that while the words are different, this is basically the same thing she said to her youngest son, to encourage him to become a hero on his own terms, a moment that while he later buried it, really was critical to Shoto’s decision to become a hero of his own choice.

she is essentially trying the same thing she did with her 5 year old son, just in a the opposite direction, and im honestly not sure if this is intentional similarilty regarding the arguments on her part, or just her being the same person she was in both instances.

the difference, is that touya was 12, and shoto was 5. the much older boy was able to look beyond the pretty words, and judge the person behind them in an critical manner, while the 5 year old ate the words right up, because to him, his mother was the greatest person in the world.

[stxleslyds]

you know how dc keeps forcing this sudden "we're a family" narrative out of nowhere? I'd love batfam content but years of hurt among them make the recent content seem unearned.

bc you know more about dick and jason than the others, how do you think they would realistically become family to each other, or would it even be in character for them to be the "bros" they're written as now?

Oh anon, this question is amazing, I love it! I saw it when I woke up and since then my brain has been brewing this answer, I was thinking about it as I brushed my teeth and as I was making breakfast, and now I am ready to give you the answer, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed thinking/writing about it!

DC keeps forcing the wrong relationships, and they keep forcing the wrong centre of this supposed family, they make it out to be the Bat-Family when in reality the Bat (Bruce) should have never been invited to this party.

This is why I give you the… Dick-Family!

Oh yeah baby, I am going there. Dick is the centre of this “family”, he is the guy who is actually connected with everyone, he has been around for so long and he has been present when almost all of the remaining characters were introduced! Bruce might have come first but that guy has nothing on Dick Grayson.

Dick has cared and loved for everyone in this family in a true and beautiful way, no matter how much fanon and DC try to tell us otherwise. This man was an amazing son to Bruce and Alfred (my love for Alfred and Dick is brought to you by @hood-ex), a fantastic brother to Jason, Tim and Cass as well as a phenomenal father/older brother to Damian.

Dick Grayson is the centre of this whole thing, and thanks to DC now being an Omniverse I will be able to explain my line of thoughts. But first let me clear some ideas up.

The way I see it Jason would only get along good enough with Dick. I am not here for Jason and Tim having brunch together (honestly, Lobdell, what were you thinking), Jason never cared for Tim, and then writers that didn’t know how the Red Hood worked made him try to kill Tim so, to me, that relationship is non-existent, Jason doesn’t really perceive Tim (yet).

Jason and Damian, listen, I know that there is this fanon theory that Jason knew and cared for Damian while he was in the League, but that is just fanon talk and it doesn’t really fit in canon either. Jason wasn’t really capable of doing much other than fight, and after he was put in the Lazarus Pit he either had to leave because Ra’s wanted to kill him or Talia took him to the All-Castle. So, Jason’s only real interactions with Damian would be when Jason was written as a crazy, blood thirsty dude that actually tried to harm a child. So, him and Damian wouldn’t really have a good relationship (yet).

Jason and Cass… that’s just a no. Jason and Barbara, I mean Barbara was older than Dick when she first met Jason, so they wouldn’t have much of a relationship.

Now, lets move on to how I will make the Dick-Family work.

Dick (bless him) actually talks and listens to people, unlike Bruce, so the change would start there. Let’s set the timeline, I will stand right after the events of Under the Red Hood. Bruce just chose saving Joker over letting Jason kill the Joker and the building they were in exploded.

Batman keeps on being himself (trash) and Jason, having survived the explosion, moves on to keep on building his empire. He really wants to control the drug trade in Gotham, so he works on that, he slowly but surely takes his place as a drug lord again and is a constant pain in Black Mask’s ass.

While Jason is doing that, Dick is trying to put together his life after Bludhaven was attacked with Chemo. Let’s say that Bludhaven isn’t completely erased from the map but he does have to leave so the city can be re-built. He goes to Gotham, where the Red Hood works.

Let’s say that Alfred told Dick who was under the Red Hood, so Dick being a good brother goes looking for Jason. Their first interaction out of the mask wouldn’t be nice, Jason barely remembers his life before the pit and he really is convinced that Dick is the absolute worst.

But then Jason being a nosy man would make an appearance, for some reason, let’s say that he hacks into the Batcave and when he does that he finds some footage… The footage in question would be the one which shows Bruce punching Dick and sort of blaming him for Jason’s death. (Oh yeah, I am going there). The footage will make a memory come to mind, Dick taking Jason on a skying trip.

So, the next time that Dick and Jason see each other is because Jason went looking for Dick and here is where these two actually talk. The way I see it, Dick is more flexible with the no killing rule, he has worked many times with people that are villains or that just have different ways of doing things. So, I think that he would understand where Jason’s coming from with his ideas. As they begin to understand one another Jason begins to recover more and more memories from before the Pit.

They get together once a week and they chat about life as well as vigilante stuff. They become friends.

At the same time Dick is also very good friends with Tim and also acts like the amazing big brother he is with him. They chat, they sometimes work together and one day they come across a very complicated situation involving a new drug being introduced in Gotham.

Dick would call Jason and now both of them and Tim are reunited in a safe house working together so this new drug doesn’t fall in the wrong hands. Jason and Tim wouldn’t really like each other. Both of them are there for Dick and because they have to get the job done.

That’s how I see Dick forming the Dick-Family unconsciously. Hell, I will introduce Barbara now. Do you guys remember that in UtRH Barbara was mad with Bruce and didn’t want to work with him but she was still in contact with Dick? Well, I am using that so it can fit my narrative.

Dick, Jason and Tim need more intel so Dick calls Oracle (real Oracle) and because Barbara trusts Dick she works with them.

Here is where it gets interesting, through Barbara, Dick meets Cass, through Tim he meets Stephanie. You see that Dick’s connections are leading him to form a group of people. Cass and Stephanie are trained by Babs and Dick and they become the new Batgirls.

As all of that keeps developing Jason and Dick become “partners in crime” they help each other, they start building a brotherly relationship again. Although Jason refuses to say that out loud.

Then comes in Damian, a difficult child if there has ever been one but he has Bruce so Dick doesn’t have to jump in that fast… right?

Oh brother! Bruce is dead (omg what would we do? Battle for the cowl maybe? No!). with Bruce gone there is only one person who can take his place and everyone knows it has to be Dick.

Dick would feel a lot of things as he is taking Bruce’s place as Batman but he has a group of people ready to back him up (Alfred, Jason, Tim, Babs, Cass, Steph), and he also has to take care of Damian, he is a child and with his father gone then maybe his mother would want to take him back to the League of Assassins, Dick obviously doesn’t want that so he talks to Tim and tells him that he sees him as his equal and that he has a plan to make Damian stay and it involves making Damian his new Robin.

Tim would obviously be sad and a little hurt, but he understands Dick’s decision because they talked about it and Dick actually took the time to explain why he was doing what he was doing (really DC half of the problems you guys come up could be fixed in seconds if people would only take some time to just TALK!).

Dick and Damian work as Batman and Robin and Dick starts assuming the position of his father. They would live with Alfred in the penthouse and maybe Tim will join them from time to time (when he wasn’t busy with Young Justice/Teen Titans stuff). Slowly Dick and Damian will become the Dynamic Duo that we love today.

So, Dick would have his own Robin, Oracle (who is also managing her own team with Black Canary and (why not) the Batgirls), Red Robin and Red Hood working with him if he needs them. They are always a call away. Jason is the most difficult to reach and he will only involve himself in that kind of drama if its about controlling the drug trade or scaring the living shit out of some very shady people.

So, Red Hood wouldn’t be working with the new (and improved) Batman but Jason would hang out with Dick sometimes.

From there they build up. Dick renovates Arkham Asylum and makes it work they way that it is supposed to work. He might also recruit Catwoman when he needs someone really sneaky, they have known each other for so long, I bet Selina loves Dick, she would certainly help him out.

But as all things do, this happy and well-connected Dick-Family is disrupted when Bruce comes back, he inserts himself slowly back into his role as Batman and as he does that Dick starts to move away from it.

But Dick’s connections are strong and well cared for, so, even when he goes back to Bludhaven and starts fresh (again) as Nightwing those connections remain. Oracle still gives him intel, Robin and Red Robin come over to Bludhaven to patrol, maybe they even have their own rooms at Dick’s place.

With Bludhaven functioning again, all of the terrible people that were working there also come back, maybe some of them never left and they have been corrupting the city from its very core. So, when Jason tells Dick that he would like to expand his operations to Bludhaven, Dick says yes, as long as Jason keeps him updated on his work and also lets him know what is going on.

I think it works! What do you guys think so far?

From then on with the whole Dick-Family being connected and strong I think they can actually act and solve their problems as a family. All those arcs that didn’t work very well because Bruce was in the middle of it being a jerk, I think they will work if Dick is at the centre of it. Let’s say that Bruce hid the fact that Joker knows their identities and all that, with such a strong family the second that the Joker tries to manipulate Jason into believing that he created him, Dick will come out of the shadows and shut that bullshit down. If Joker tries to do something to the Circus, then the Birds of Prey and the Robins will be there in seconds helping Dick.

The Court of Owls, those little shits wouldn’t stand a chance against this team, this force of nature! Jason would be the one working from afar because you know my boy wouldn’t be subjected to the “no-killing” rule but if he does it, he has to do it away from the children (Damian) and away from Cass, if he doesn’t want to know real trouble. (He probably arranged those things with Dick a long time ago and he is happy with it).

Now, please forgive me but for angst reasons I will actually let the events of, Batman Incorporated #8, Forever Evil, Nightwing #30 and Spyral run its course.

Let me explain, after Damian’s death Dick holds the Dick-Family together, as well as Bruce because he is amazing like that, but then after Dick supposedly dies, things change just a little bit. Jason would retreat back to his own corner because the only thing attaching him to the Dick-Family was Dick but he would also keep his eyes open and he might also have a direct line with Oracle if things go south.

Aside from Jason, I do see the others working on keeping their connections intact. When Damian eventually returns the land of the living, I can see all of them coming together even more because that’s what Dick would have wanted.

And then Dick will come back from Spyral and here is where the Dick-Family will show the “Bat-Family” why its superior to it in every aspect possible.

The Dick-Family will notice that something must have happened, Dick would never play dead and leave them like that, but Dick loves Bruce and he doesn’t want to tell them the truth, Bruce has no memories now and his family doesn’t deserve that kind of drama BUT Jason and Tim are suspicious, they know Dick at this point and they trust him so they firmly believe that he is hiding something to protect someone. And here is where life repeats itself. Let’s review the Batcave’s footage, yes, I did it again, I just love the fact that Bruce has footage of himself being the absolute worst to his kids, how does DC not use it! Anyway, Tim and Jason find the footage from the events of Nightwing #30 and suddenly the Dick-Family have their “Dick defence squad” jackets on and they are ready to party.

After all that Bruce eventually gets his memories back and he is held accountable for his actions. Also, around this time the events of Robin War would have already happened so Duke is also introduced. Dick lets him join and all that, and then Duke and Cass become besties and they work together.

And yeah, as Rebirth comes closer the Dick-Family would be more united than ever.

The end.

That is how I would have done it. But this way is slow, and DC wouldn’t be able to monetize it as much as they would want.

Jason wouldn’t be giving hugs and calling everyone their brother or sister, he will only get along with Dick and he would be professional with everyone else.

Tim and Damian would get along but they wouldn’t go for ice cream together on a sunny day. Steph and Damian would and so would Cass and Tim or Cass and Duke.

Oracle would work with Dick and the others as a side thing because her main thing would be the Birds of Prey, this time with Helena too.

Alfred would spend his time with Bruce but he would also be very aware of Dick and his influence on everyone around them. Bruce eventually would be integrated to the Dick-Family because Dick is a sweetheart but Dick would also make Bruce follow his rules, Dick is a little bean but he is also the most badass person in the room (whichever room) so you better listen to what he has to say.

The Dick-Family would be something that grows silently and doesn’t need a “Joker War” in order for them to be there for each other, they would try their best each step of the way and they will talk things out when mistakes are made.

This is the way that I see this family dynamic working.

I would even go as far as to say that Talia can be part of the Dick-Family because she is connected to three people, Dick, Damian and Jason.

Dick is the person with most connections in the DC Universe, the Titans, the Justice League, Deathstroke, they all have connections to this treasure of a man. If he needs help in Gotham or Bludhaven then he can call people from the “first circle”, if things are beyond a “street level” threat them he can call the Titans and if shit really hits the fan, Clark and the others are a call away.

Anyway, this was unnecessarily long, I am sorry about it but I am also not because I really don’t know how to answer your question without going on a long rant.

In conclusion the Bat-Family doesn’t work and sadly it wouldn’t work no matter how much they force it. These people don’t have connections, Bruce is not able to make connections between people. And DC has erased entire relationships that Dick used to have. I mean, they got rid of Dick and Tim being close brothers just so they could give us a shitty brunch between Tim and Jason? Only yesterday we saw a true and beautiful interaction between Dick and Damian.

DC is handling the “Bat-Family” in all the worst possible ways. It just doesn’t work.

They should have used Dick all those years ago and they shouldn’t have destroyed Jason’s characterization with Lobdell’s ideas.

So, sadly, my dear anon, I don’t see the Bat-Family as a in character thing for any of these people as they are written currently, but I hope that you enjoyed my version of it. May the Dick-Family bring everyone who reads about it a little joy!

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First       Previous

Chapter 4

Everything hurt. Her body felt as if it was on fire, her limbs were heavy and her head was pounding, she tried to open her eyes and understand her surroundings, but they refused to cooperate so she sought to use her other senses to identify where she was, even in a lot of pain she couldn’t forget her training, so she remained calm until she knew what she’s dealing with. It only takes her a couple of seconds to remember what happened. The attack on the League, the Temple crumbling to the ground and her being trapped under it. After that it was a void, so she must have passed out at some point.

She could tell she wasn't still trapped under the rubber because she could feel the softness of a mattress under her and not the hard temple training grounds, it was either nighttime or she was in a room without windows. She couldn’t hear a thing that indicated that there was another person with her, but she can identify cars in a far distance, so she must be close to a city. She feels cared for, so rules out being captured for now. 

She isn’t sure how long she laid there, but streams of lighting start to appear somewhere above her from what she can see with her closed lids. The sun is up when she finally can open her eyes.

She is in a bare room, that must be used as storage from all of the boxes around. She’s in an attic in an elevated part that contains just the bed, an iron stair makes way into the second part of the room, she can see from her position that the only way out is through the trap door on the floor, although she can assume that the lighting coming from above her must lead to a balcony. She feels better now, her pain is gone and her limbs ultimately start to obey her again. She had just sat up when the trap door started to open.

She prepares herself for what is to come, she does not have any weapons and she’s not sure she can beat another assassin in a fight in her current state, even with the pain now gone. To her surprise is her godmother that enters the room she’s resting in. She carries a plate with food and a glass of water. She has a warm smile that Marianne has only seen a couple of times, normally reserved for birthdays and celebrations, but still reassures her that she’s safe and cared for. 

“It's good to see you’re finally awake. Gave us quite a scare”

“Where am I?”

“Safe” With her tone she can tell that the conversation is over, so she simply accepts the plate that is offered and starts to eat what's been given, a tasty sandwich with a red tart at the side. If it was any other person that came into the room she wouldn’t have been so quick to accept the food, but she knew that her godmother would never hurt her, she was one of the only people she trusted with her life, like a second mother to her.  

“How do you feel?” Sabine asks only after the food is gone. 

“Surprisingly fine. The pain is gone and I feel normal again. How is this possible? Where are we? How long was I out? What happened with the League? What happened to Damian? Is he here? Is he safe?” The questions jump out of her mouth before she can control them. Rambling has always been a trait of hers, one that she thought to be long under control. But given the situation, she can’t blame herself to look after answers. 

But Sabine calmly answers every one of her questions. She doesn’t get into details about the attack but she understands that one of her grandfather’s star pupils betrayed them and orchestrated the attack to take the Demon Head power to himself and rule over the Order of Assassins. Sabine and Master Fu were together at the Temple when it all started and went to look for her, only to realize that she must have thought the same and went to look for them. They saw her being crushed by the falling debris, and they were the ones that dug her out. 

She died. 

That piece of information stays in a loop in her mind. She died. Master Fu brought her back. Being brought back to life wasn’t impossible, she knew that her grandfather had been doing that for centuries, but he needed the Lazarus Pits for that, and she knew the symptoms of someone that used them, she had seen them first hand from her grandfather or when she was in charge of training a recruit that her mother had taken pity on. She was only ten, and the boy 13 at the time. One of her most proud accomplishments. Her grandfather was so proud of her for training the next generation, even if the boy was technically older than her. She knew the symptoms and she definitely wasn’t brought back using these methods.

“Master Fu will arrive here shortly, he can explain it better”

“Where is here? Where are we? Where's Damian?” She’s desperate, she needs to know where her baby brother is. That he is safe. “Please tell me he’s here!”

Sabine has a heartbroken expression on her face, and that's all the confirmation she needs. The tears roll down her face before she can stop them. All her efforts had been in vain, Damian wasn’t here. 

“We are in Paris. He’s not here, but he’s safe” Her godmother tries to reassure her, she dries the tears in her face and strokes her hair trying to comfort the distraught girl. “He’s in a safe place as well, your mother made sure of that. But for now, you can’t go after him, Master Fu will explain why, you just have to trust me when I say I only want what’s best for you”

She then proceeds to tell her best-kept secret so far. She’s married, and they are at her husband’s house, above his bakery. She tells her of how in one of her missions she met the love of her life. But because of her, she knew she couldn’t leave the League just yet, she needed to be there for little Marianne and her bright smiles, to make sure the League didn’t kill the kindness in her. She always visited Paris after a mission. It became some kind of ritual, and no one ever questioned it. Her husband, Tom, knew about her lifestyle and knew that she couldn’t just leave her goddaughter behind, he respected that, even loved how caring his wife was. Sabine begs Marianne to not be guilty that she couldn’t have a better kind of life because of her.

“The best thing in my life is knowing that I helped raise the most selfless and kind woman, I’m so proud of what you become. Never forget that.”

By the time Master Fu finally arrives she’s just so tired. But her need for answers is bigger, so she allows her godmother to guide her to the living room. When they get there she’s surprised, to say the least. Her master is there, but he is not alone. He’s accompanied by two very anxious Kwamis.

“Marianne is so great to finally meet you! I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long!” Tikki, The Goddess of Creation addresses her. But she stays there stunned. She grew up learning about these entities, preparing for the moment she would get to meet them, but there she stays, unable to properly function. So much has been happening in the last 24 hours, and she feels like she’s in shock.

“Great job sugar cub, you broke the kid” Plagg, The God of Destruction comments.

“She’s probably just surprised to finally see us, don’t be rude”

It feels surreal to see these mystical creatures just bickering like children in her godmother’s husband’s living room. She almost feels like she’s dreaming. Feeling her discomfort, Master Fu decides it is better to address the situation.

“Come sit Marianne. It’s time I give you some answers.”

For the next hour, she learns a part of history she never knew about.

Her Master calmly explained to her that by the time they were able to release her from the ruins of the temple, it was too late. But something in him knew there was still hope. Because she was Tikkis chosen, her soul takes more time to disconnect itself from the physical world, so The Grand Guardian did something that wasn’t wrong but still considered taboo. He asked Tikki to use her energy in order to anchor her spirit back into her body. He didn’t use the wish from the Miraculous, so it wasn’t as dangerous. That had only been done once, somewhere when the pharaohs were still in power. One of the Guardians had fallen madly in love with a woman chosen by Tikki, but she got sick and died. Consumed with grief he ordered the Kwami into bringing her soul back.

Because it had happened so long ago they didn’t know the reaction it would cause in her already existing powers. So, for now, it would be better if she stayed in Paris, close to her Master’s, where she could finish her training and receive guidance if needed. They still didn’t know the situation within the League, so it was best to lay low for a while.

So there she stayed. For a whole month, she lived with her godmother and got to know the man she called her husband. It was funny, that the super badass and strict woman everyone knew would turn into the warmest person when around the baker. Marianne could tell they loved each other very much just by the way they looked at the other. In the League love was not something that happened very often. So it felt nice to be in contact with something so pure. 

She also kept going on with training, just like Master Fu said they would. It was as if her life was completely new but completely equal to what it was before. She would wake up early, eat something, normally delicious made by Tom, and go to where her master was living, a massage parlor that served as a disguise from his real job as her teacher. They would start by meditating and then move into physical training. It was different, Fu wasn’t so young anymore so now she tended to train alone. She missed her brother so much that it hurt. Knowing where he was but not if he was okay. She wished that there was a way for her to contact him, but knew it would be safer if she didn’t. Just knowing he was with Father makes her feel a little better, she remembers her Mother’s stories of the fearless Batman, so if the time comes she knew he would be safe.

Nothing out of ordinary happened so far, her powers kept the same, maybe a little more intense, but nothing she couldn’t handle. But they were confident that there would not be any other side effects so far. Everything was back to normal, or that’s what they thought.

Imagine their surprise when on one of their meditation sections the both were suddenly overwhelmed by the intense energy that they received. It was dark, nothing like she ever had felt. 

“Master, what was that? I have never felt something like it” Her teacher looked like he had seen a ghost, pale and with an anxious expression

“I’ve only felt this type of energy once. We must prepare, something bad is on our horizon. It’s time to activate your miraculous”

“What? Are you sure Master? Please tell me what is going on!” She pleaded.

“The Peacock and the Butterfly Miraculous, a long time ago, when I was just an apprentice, were thought to be lost. This was when The League and the Order were constantly at war. Some of my fellow disciples got greedy. They wanted the power the Miraculous had to offer, they thought themselves worthy of wielding their power and destroying the League of Assassins. There was a fight, and the first Temple of The Order was compromised. Some of us escaped, but we lost a lot. That day… I felt the same type of energy. I believe somewhere in this city, someone is preparing to cause chaos. We must be ready for when it happens.”

“How do we do that?”

“We need to find the Cat Miraculous wielder”

Next

There is a little easter egg in this chapter, let’s see if anyone can tell what it is! The taglist is still open so feel free to ask to be tagged! Please tell me what you thought of this chapter, I’m dying for some feedback

Taglist:  @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13  @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @iamabrownfox @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades @thefangirlwholiterallydies @astoriaandromeda @unnamed2357 @little-lady-bird @imdaqueenie

[paulbunyanstatue]

“You are being ridiculous. Just give it up.”

“I will not,” Damian growled fiercely, glowering up at Jason with a look that could rival that of a madman. He was still clad in his Robin suit save only the cape, which he detached and dropped to the cave entrance as soon as he stepped out of the Batmobile. Despite a disappointed tisk from Bruce, the black cape remained in a crumpled heap by the passenger door, where it would stay for the few remaining hours of the night. Patrol with his father was boring that particular evening, giving Damian ample energy to waste arguing with Jason now in the cave.

“You are not stronger than me.” It was obvious Jason was trying not to laugh at the absurdity, which only infuriated Damian further.

“I am.” Damian snarled. “My training greatly surpasses yours. No offense, Father,” he added softly and Bruce rolled his eyes from his chair at the computer to the side. He still wore his suit, but his cowl was pushed back to reveal tired eyes scanning the files on the screen before him. “I was trained by my mother, my grandfather, and now my father, in case you have managed to forget. Therefore, I am far superior than you in every aspect. Including physical strength.”

“Funny you should mention your mom, kid-"

“Jason!” Bruce snapped and turned in his chair to glare warning daggers at his second child.

“I was just going to say, I was also trained by his mother,” Jason hissed back, but he couldn’t hide his obvious amusement. “And you, for that matter.”

“Your time with the League was more considered babysitting, Todd, since your brain was equivalent to a scrambled egg.”

“Damian,” Bruce sighed, rubbing at his temples with his pointed fingers and turning back to the computer screen.

“You’re insane,” Jason chuckled passively, and he thought Damian was going to screech like a pterodactyl at the dismissal.

Tim entered the cave from the main staircase digging the palm of his hand into his eyelid and chewing loudly on the tip of an empty plastic Go-Gurt tube. Bruce looked him up and down, taking in his pajama shirt and boxers with a frown. His hair stuck up in several directions, like his head had met a pillow for a short time before he got up again.

“What are you doing down here, ziskayt? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Bruce asked, voice low with a specific kindness he reserved just for his family.

Tim should have been in bed. He and Bruce made an agreement that Tim would stay in bed tonight and sleep before they worked intently together on a fast-approaching case the following day and evening.

Tim perked up with sudden intensity and approached Bruce with fast footfalls while ripping the yogurt tube from his teeth. His cheeks were only slightly pinkened at the endearment Bruce called him, as it was one his grandmother used when he was very young. “Well, hang on a sec, B. I actually had to come down here and inform you of a break through I found in our case. Check this...” he unfolded the stapled packet of papers previously tucked securely under one arm, and he smoothed it out over the table in front of Bruce. The man listened silently while Tim quickly explained his findings, leaning over the table and occasionally pushing the bangs back from his heavy eyes. Tim’s hair was longer now than it had been when he first became Robin at thirteen, to the point that he sometimes pulled it up into a runt of a ponytail just to keep it from cutting irritatingly into his eyes.

“Very impressive,” Bruce murmured after the presentation, picking up the packet for himself and flipping through the discoveries. Tim beamed and hopped up onto the computer desk, sitting down next to the monitor and facing Bruce. He returned the plastic to his mouth and chewed aimlessly, watching Bruce for his next instructions and kicking his legs lightly. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Jason speak next.

“I bet you can’t even lift Tim,” Jason planted his hands on his hips and smirked, knowing exactly how this challenge was going to end.

Tim wrinkled his nose and furrowed his eyebrows. From his perch on Bruce’s desk, he quickly intervened before this developed further.  “No, no. Absolutely not. I am not getting involved in-“

“Too easy. Drake maintains atrocious self-care habits,” Damian interrupted with an eye roll directed toward Jason, acting as though he didn’t hear Tim at all.

Tim frowned at the blatant insult to his person, and lifted his arms up with irritation. “Hey, wait a sec-"

“He’s far thinner than he should be. That’s way too easy. Pick something harder,” Damian demanded, pointing an aggressive finger at Jason and nearly growling.

Tim scoffed and muttered, chewing furiously on the plastic, “Bruce, your kid is out of control. You should consider muzzling the mashuganas whelp.”

“Timothy Jackson-“ Bruce reprimanded and reached up to yank the Go-gurt tube from Tim’s mouth. The plastic ripped from his lips with a pop and left behind a surprised O-shaped mouth in its wake. Bruce crumbled the garbage and tossed it into the trash can tucked beneath the desk.

“He started it, didn’t you hear what he said about me?” Tim asked in bewilderment, still spinning after receiving the dreaded middle name.

“I did hear him. And shouldn’t you be in bed now?” Bruce repeated his earlier question with an eyebrow ticked in curiosity.

Tim wrinkled his nose. “I will. But I was hungry and also I had to tell you about this case first, and-" Bruce leveled a warning look at him and Tim rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “Point stands, he is being a mashuganas whelp.”

“Drake, you should learn to keep your opinions to yourself and save us all the wasted time of listening to you speak,” Damian snapped in defense, fists clutches firmly at his sides.

Tim laughed loud and harsh at that, a sound that felt grating in Bruce’s ears with the onset of a headache. “I should keep my opinions to myself? Have you even heard-“

“Boys, that’s enough,” Bruce demanded, voice low and holding up a hand to cease all arguing. The only sounds resonating in the dimly lit cave were the quiet snickers of Jason, muffled by his own hand pressed firmly to his mouth. “I am going upstairs now.” He faced Damian with a serious eyebrow raised and stated factually. “You have school in the morning. And you,” he faced Tim, who was silently chewing on the inside of his cheek in the absence of his Go-gurt tube, “will be staying home from school tomorrow because you obviously have several hours of sleep to catch up on yourself." When Bruce found out that Tim had dropped out of school during his unfortunate leave of absence, it took him nearly an entire month of near-begging and vague threatening to get Tim to go back. Once Alfred got involved and asked Tim in the kindest, softest voice if he would please consider finishing high school, Tim was unable to refuse. "I expect to hear both of you upstairs and walking into your rooms within the next fifteen minutes.” He stood up from his chair and walked toward the cave entrance with long strides. “You do not want me to come back down here and collect you, trust me.” And without another word or a look back at the stunned faces left in his wake, he strode into the locker room to change, and then reappeared just to walk up the stairs.

But Jason wasn’t quite finished yet. “I can pick up Tim, Damian. Prove to me that you can and I’ll admit that your training was ‘far superior.’” He crossed his arms with a smirk, and Damian could no longer deny the thrilling desire to annihilate his brother in this argument.

“And that I am stronger than you,” Damian demanded and Jason agreed. “Fine then!” He threw his arms up and spun toward Tim, who scowled deeply and shook his head in response. “Oh come on, Drake. This will only take a minute. Might as well make your time down in the cave useful, for once.”

Tim scoffed and slid off the counter. He flipped his middle finger up in an insult directed toward Damian and stalked off toward the cave exit, following Bruce’s path to the main part of the house. Before he reached the stairs, Jason appeared next to him, grinning hugely like a villainous cartoon cat and wrapping a halting hand around Tim’s wrist.

“No, Jay. Stop it!” Tim hissed and tried to pull away, but Jason ducked down and scooped him up, holding him tightly in a bridal hold. “He can’t carry me, this is a waste of time.”

“Lies!” Damian protested.

Jason ignored Tim and approached the youngest. “You have to hold him for thirty whole seconds. Count starts as soon as I let go. Ready?”

Damian straightened and raised his chin, nodding with confirmation and reaching his arms out in preparation.

“Jason.” The last-second plea fell on deaf ears as Jason bent forward and delivered him into Damian’s arms. The transfer was shaky and Tim grasped at the collar of Damian’s robin suit, wishing to drag the brat down to the floor with him when he would inevitably end up there.

Jason stepped back and waited, smirking.

Tim realized with an eye roll just how annoyingly close to the ground he was in the arms of the child, but his grip didn’t loosen based on principle. Damian was huffing quietly, redness tinted his cheeks.

“See, Todd?” He hissed through teeth clenched tight with effort. “Easy.”

“Sure, bud,” Jason snickered. “You make this look so easy. Twenty seconds left.”

“This is a bad idea,” Tim muttered as he felt Damian’s legs shake beneath his carrier.

“Fifteen,” Jason announced, watching with raised eyebrows that Damian misread as surprise, when instead he was waiting for the expected result. “Ten.”

Tim grimaced, bracing himself for a hard landing. At Jason’s announcement of five seconds, and right on his expected schedule, Damian’s legs buckled and he fell forward, dropping Tim to the ground and landing with his sharp knees digging ruthlessly into his brother’s side.

Tim huffed and slapped his palms to the cold ground beneath him. “Shocker,” he murmured sarcastically and stood up, pushing Damian off of him in the process.

“That landing was pathetic, Drake. No wonder Grayson chose me,” the kid growled, wiping at the suit covering his knees.

Tim’s mouth fell open in response, a hurt crease created between his furrowed brows. But before he could respond, Jason reached out and lightly smacked the back of Damian’s head, sending him a furious warning look.

“The brat is only joking, Tim,” Jason confirmed quickly. “He’s just lashing out because he’s angry that he is the weakest person in the room.”

“The room? Absolutely not, I demand a do-over! I know I’m stronger than Drake.”

Half an hour after Bruce’s departure from the cave, he groaned dramatically under his covers. He never heard his children walk past his door and retreat to their own bedrooms. So now, due to his thin-veiled threat, he had to go get them. He threw the covers aside and heaved himself from the mattress with a grumble. Upon walking down the cold steps to the cave, he heard loud shouts that he was unable to decipher. His feet quickened on the tile until he reached the bottom, where he froze and watched with an irritated, and slightly amused, frown.

“Damian, lift more!” Tim shouted, his arms tucked under Jason’s armpits, and straining to lift his top half to Tim’s bellybutton. Damian held Jason’s calves on his shoulders and was groaning near-constant.

“Focus on your own side!” Damian cried out, more desperate than Bruce has heard from him. Damian pushed his palms up against Jason’s calves but they hardly lifted.

“Ha!” Jason crooned, sounding comically relaxed compared to his struggling brothers. “Told ya you two couldn’t lift me above your heads. My weak, baby brothers.”

Damian growled at the taunt and Tim laughed, his shaking arms dropping Jason’s top half an inch closer toward the ground before he recovered again.

“Boys!” Bruce snapped and looked at their frozen forms with narrowed eyes. “I told you to go to bed. Come up here right now before I carry all three of you up.”

They gracelessly released Jason to the floor, who landed with an “oof” that brought a chuckle to Damian’s throat and a twitch to the corner of Bruce’s mouth.

Tim and Damian fell in line to follow Bruce up the stairs when Damian asked, “Father, can you really carry all three of us at once?”

He did.

:) From my fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32502511/chapters/80612944#workskin

[mintaka14]

This is a bit of something that got in my way while I was working on the ML ballet AU. Turns out I still have a grain or two of Lila salt in me. Quickspinner’s Out of Your League (from the All That Remains collection) needs the credit for a bit of backstory that I had in mind here. And yes, this is Lukanette. Always.

Lila wasn’t above using her mother’s sense of guilt to her own advantage. She also had no problem with feeding that guilt. A few sighs and teary comments when her mother (yet again) had to cancel on Lila to deal with something at the embassy, or a subtle reminder about all the times Lila had been left on her own in their apartment was all grist to the mill, and Lila had to admit that it had paid off in a big way this time.

Her mother had pulled every string and favour at her disposal for Lila’s birthday party, and Jagged Stone himself was going to be putting in an appearance. Lila was jubilant.

She watched the ballroom at the embassy – how her mother had managed that one Lila didn’t know, and honestly didn’t care – filling up with her classmates and everyone she’d ever met, and she allowed herself a satisfied smile.

Of course, Marinette wasn’t there. Lila had had an enjoyable month of it, tormenting the goody-two-shoes over it, and the beautiful part was that no one had even caught a hint of what she was really doing. She hadn’t been so crass as to leave Marinette out of the party invitations, oh no! She had handed the girl a gilt-edged invite with her most charming, and insincere, smile as she made a point of telling Marinette how much she hoped that Marinette would be there. Their classmates had eaten it up with a spoon, falling all over Lila to tell her how generous and forgiving she was, given the way Marinette had been so hostile to her, and all the while Lila had smiled sweetly and watched Marinette twist in the trap.

If Marinette begged off the party, she was the bad guy for refusing Lila’s olive branch. If Marinette came, then Lila won, and she would get to watch Marinette swallow her pride and suffer all night, or crack and create drama. Either way, it was all good, and Lila had had fun making little digs and comments about the party in front of Marinette for the weeks leading up to it.

As Lila accepted everyone’s tributes and praise, greeting each new arrival with becoming diffidence and subtly trying to gauge the worth of each gift that they piled on the table at the entrance, she came to the conclusion that Marinette had decided not to put in an appearance. Her smile grew wider.

“Lila!” Alya had arrived, and swept her into a hug, surveying the ballroom, and the tables of food, with an impressed eye. Behind her, Nino grinned and bobbed his head in greeting. “Amazing party, girl. And I can’t believe you got Jagged Stone to come!”

Lila gave her a modest smile. “It’s all about who you know, and Jagged was more than happy to come when he heard it was for my birthday.” She looked around as if searching for something, and made her eyes wide and hopeful. “Did… did Marinette come with you?”

Alya shifted uncomfortably. “Er… Marinette couldn’t make it. But she asked me to wish you a happy birthday.”

Oh, no, she didn’t, Lila thought, suppressing the smirk that pulled at the corners of her mouth. Alya, you liar.

She forced her face into a sorrowful pout with just the right touch of hurt. “It’s okay. It would have been nice if we could put aside whatever this grudge is that Marinette has against me just for once, but I guess not…”

Alya and Nino smiled awkwardly. And then her mother touched her arm, a harried expression on her face as she drew Lila away out of earshot for a moment.

“Lila, sweetheart, there’s some bad news,” her mother said anxiously, and Lila felt her smile slip a little. “We’ve just had word that Jagged Stone had to cancel at the last minute.”

“What do you mean, Jagged Stone cancelled?” Lila almost shrieked. A few heads turned towards them, and Lila brought herself back under control before they could overhear. “Mama, you need to fix this. Get him back!”

“Sweetheart, I can’t. His agent said it was unavoidable, and they’re paying the late cancellation fine in the contract. At this late notice I can’t get anyone else to come instead.”

Lila let her eyes fill with tears – she’d practised tearing up in front of her mirror, but in this case the tears were very real.

“Mama,” she insisted, and the harried lines on her mother’s face deepened.

“You’ll still have a lovely party,” her mother said weakly. “The food is wonderful, and you still have the DJ for entertainment.”

“But I told everyone that Jagged Stone was coming!”

“I’m so sorry, darling.” Her head turned towards the doorway, where an aide was waving a phone at her. “I have to go take this call.”

The moment that her mother had turned away, Lila’s mouth pinched with anger and frustration, and she barely stopped herself from stamping her foot.

“Hey girl, is everything okay?”

She heard Alya’s voice call out to her, and she smoothed out her face, spinning around with artificial enthusiasm. Several of their classmates were clustered behind Alya, and she turned a smile on them as well.

“So,” Alya continued, “we’re all really excited! When’s Jagged getting here?”

Lila gave a moue of only slightly exaggerated disappointment.

“Can you believe it?” she sighed, one hand fluttering up to her chest. “Jagged had to cancel. It was last minute, and I’m so worried it’s because that awful throat condition of his has flared up again.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh no! You can’t tell anyone about it, no one is supposed to know, but that was why he couldn’t do the zoom call with the class last month like he’d promised.”

There was a ripple of sympathy and concern through her classmates, but then Alix made a sceptical noise at the back of the group.

“Throat condition? But you said it was sunspot interference with the internet connection.”

“No, I was trying to keep his throat problems secret-“

“It was Clara Nightingale you said had a serious throat condition, and that was why she had to cancel helping out with the charity auction like she’d told you,” Alix interrupted.

“No, that was Jagged-“

“If recall accurately,” Max spoke up, “and I do, Clara Nightingale had the throat condition. I could have Markov replay the conversation,” he added helpfully, and Lila spun around in dismay.

“No, that’s not-“

“There have been a lot of cancellations,” Alix said in growing suspicion. Lila could see the faces around her registering confusion, and there was a growing murmur as her classmates tallied things up. She had to stop this before they came to the realisation that…

“What about that interview you promised me with Ladybug?” Alya was asking her, her voice sharp. “The one that got cancelled because of an akuma, except I could never find anything about that akuma, and you never rescheduled. And that meeting that Nino was supposed to have with that director?”

Nino wasn’t saying anything, his face hidden by his cap as he stared at the floor. The muttering was growing louder now as more people were working things out and the number of promises mounted up.

“Oh my god,” Juleka mumbled behind the fall of her streaked black and purple hair. “He was right.”

“Who?” Rose asked, but Alix was talking again before Juleka could answer.

“You didn’t need to fib about Jagged Stone being here to get us to come to your party, Lila,” Alix said as the expressions turned to disgust and disbelief.

“But I didn’t!” Lila protested, and for once she had been telling the truth. “I swear, Jagged really was coming. You have to believe me!”

“I said it was a bit hinky that Jagged Stone would have agreed to play a teenage party like this,” Alix told the group around her.

“I’m not lying!” Lila insisted, her voice growing shrill as the expressions turned to disgust and disbelief. “He did a signing for Chloe.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Chloe, and the mayor himself roped him into that.”

“But my mother works for the embassy! And I saved his kitten!”

Again, Alix snorted, and Alya had her arms folded now, frowning.

“You know, I couldn’t find anything about that online, or about Jagged even having a kitten. The more I think about it, the more I wonder why I believed that in the first place.”

“You believed Marinette,” she couldn’t help the slight snarl at that name, “when she said she designed stuff for Jagged and he came to her house.”

“But she didn’t say that,” Nino pointed out. “We saw all of that for ourselves. But now I think about it, I haven’t seen anything that proves you’ve even met him.”

“But I have! He really was coming, and he was going to sing Happy Birthday to me! He just had to cancel.”

“Sure, Lila.”

After all the stories Lila had spun, and the lies and embellishments, how could it be the truth that they refused to believe? The group drifted away from her while Lila stared after them in open-mouthed shock. She was left in a spreading circle of isolation at her own party.

The only person who acknowledged her existence was the tall boy with the blue hair over near the buffet table. Lila frowned, trying to work out where she knew him from. He was older than her class, and the ripped jeans and scruffy hoodie were out of place among the smartly dressed guests, but he looked familiar, and what was he doing at her party anyway? He raised the vol au vent in his hand in an unsmiling salute.

Lila made her way over to him.

“Now, where do I know you from?” she asked with an attempt at coyness, in spite of the fury still seething through her at her classmates’ revolt. His expression didn’t change.

“We’ve met before. I’m Juleka’s brother, Luka.”

Juleka’s brother. Marinette. She had a sudden memory of the steps outside the school and an older boy with blue hair and a guitar slung over his back, coolly warning her about what would happen if she messed with Marinette or his sister. Her eyes narrowed.

He said, “I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, and I’m sorry to hear that Jagged fell through on you.”

“Jagged?” Lila sucked in a breath at that. “What do you know about Jagged Stone?”

“You underestimated Marinette,” the blue-haired boy said calmly. “It’s all about who you know, isn’t that what you said, Lila? It’s all about connections. Except Marinette’s are real.”

She let out a smothered shriek.

“Marinette did this! How could she-“

Luka was shaking his head. “Marinette didn’t do a thing. She’s been trying so hard to take the high road, and she’s not vindictive. I did warn you, though, what would happen if you threatened someone I care about again – just because I don’t want to play your kind of games doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t.”

“Then you turned them all against me! You-“

“I didn't even need to do that,” Luka said, and gave her an infuriatingly composed smile. “In the end, all I really needed to do was tell my dear old dad how you treated his favourite designer. I didn’t even have to bend the truth to do it, and the music just played from there.”

Lila’s mouth fell open. “Jagged Stone… is your father?!”

“Surprised the hell out of me, too,” Luka muttered, and finished the pastry he was holding. He dusted the crumbs off his hands.

“Connections,” Luka said, and shoved himself away from the table. “I have them too, and I’m more than willing to use them for Marinette’s sake. Thank you for the lovely party.”

He gave her a little wave and walked away, leaving her standing there in the ruins of her reputation.