#if she wasn’t so smart with such a good track record she’d be ridiculous

[tobyfoxmademeascaly]

I adore y’shtola now because every single plan she comes up with is nigh-guaranteed to be the most unhinged idea ever thought up by cat or man. Being pursued by cops? COLLAPSE THE TUNNEL AND TELEPORT DIRECTLY INTO HEAVEN. Need to distract the Children of Everlasting Dark? THROW BEEHIVES INTO THEIR HOUSES. Need to perform a diving save into a bottomless pit? TELEPORT DIRECTLY INTO HEAVEN. AGAIN. Need to get on Mt. Gulg but air travel isn’t feasible? GIANT ROBOT. Need a portal to hell? MAKE A DEMON. That doesn’t work? SHOOT A LASER. AT THE MOON. Banger after banger.

[pastelsandpining]

Song: "The Panic In Me" by Elton John

Pairing: post-calamity zelink

Congrats on 200!! You deserve more you lovely goddess!!

here you go! a serving of angsty fluff

The Panic in Me

words: 2349

warnings: death mention, panic attacks, nightmares, survivor's guilt if you squint

Masterlist | Song Fics

------

In a perfect world, they could leave their past behind them. They could move on with their lives, never once interrupted by the ghosts of an era that played out so long ago, neither of them should be alive to remember it. But this was not a perfect world, and too often, memories of the past taunted and pulled them so taught, it was hard to believe they hadn’t broken yet. Link did not know if it was easier to have a full memory, or if he was the lucky one out of the pair. Most of the time, he just felt lost. Where something should be, there was a blurry and vague image that made no sense to him. Gaping holes in the memory of his past life lead to many sleepless nights, and this was just another one of them.

In that life that was lost to the hands of time, he’d been a knight in service of the princess. A hero, destined to bring about the Calamity. That’s the kind way to put it, he thought. Harbinger of doom was a more fitting term, even a century later when it was done and over. It was a cruel trick that, by the time he was able to sink the sacred blade into the grotesque body of the beast, he could not remember much about those he was fighting for.

There was a collection of memories, sure. A few flickers of a face here, a voice there, a group of skilled warriors that’d come together for the sake of Hyrule--and what good did skill do them in the end? Remembering meant nothing when they weren’t around to remind him of who they were. They felt too far away for him to have any sort of connection to them, and it hurt. He felt… traitorous.

“Link?”

The hero lifted his head, tearing his gaze from the water flowing quietly beneath the bridge, and turned to look at the fallen princess he’d rescued a handful of weeks ago. She was creeping towards him from the house, hugging her arms. It was too late in the night, or early in the morning, for her to be awake. He pulled his legs from over the water and stood up to meet her, the wood cold beneath his bare feet. It reminded him that the weather was growing colder, and she must be freezing. He removed the cloak from around his shoulders and draped it around hers instead, but she caught his hands before he could withdraw.

“Are you alright?” she asked. Three simple words and the answer was anything but. He didn’t think there was a set of words he could string together that would make sense of his thoughts.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered instead, giving her hands a gentle squeeze in assurance that he was fine. In moments like these, he wondered if time was a blessing. A century ago, he’d have never dared to touch her in such a casual, insignificant way.

“How long have you been out here?” she asked. It was unnatural, surely enough to be a crime, how her eyes could glow even in the darkest hours of night--even when she was tired beyond belief. He thought briefly of saying not long, but he didn’t want to lie to her.

“I don’t know,” he decided instead. It was an alarmingly honest answer. He couldn’t keep track of time when he was in his head, thinking too much about things he could do nothing about.

“Do you want to come back inside?” she offered--an implication that they shared the house on the cliffside. He supposed, in a way, they did.

“It’s cold,” he answered with a nod towards the building. She’d come out barefoot as well, and he didn’t want her getting sick when she was just starting to regain her health. “Come on.”

The house was not much warmer than the air outside, but at least there was no breeze to sink the chill further into them. Zelda discarded the cloak and Link shuddered as he fetched a spare blanket from storage. He offered it to her, then wasn't entirely sure how it came to be wrapped around both of them.

“Link,” she tried again, fishing for his hand as she started towards the stairs. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He thought about nodding, assuring her he was fine and telling her to go back to sleep, but she was too smart for that. Maybe it was a gift she had, to know when he wasn’t okay, or maybe she just knew him that well even decades later.

“I was thinking,” he admitted at last, taking a seat on the bed when she pulled him down beside her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, holding his hand between both of hers, stroking it gently with her thumb. Link never realized how fleeting physical touch was, or how badly he craved it, until he wrapped her in a hug the very day she returned. Maybe it was selfish, how he didn’t want to let her go. Some small part of him still thought that if he did, she would dissolve right in front of him the same way everyone else from his past had.

“I died,” he said simply. “Didn’t I?”

It struck a chord with her too, because she tensed and averted her gaze. He was sure it wasn’t a pleasant memory for her. He’d gotten the best of it, after all--the only thing he could see or feel was her.

“Yes,” she replied quietly. It was no louder than a whisper, but it was deafening. There was no new knowledge to be learned, but hearing the confirmation from other people was so much worse than just knowing it himself.

It was panic that filled him, thinking back on it. Panic that it wasn’t actually over at all, and that he’d find himself waking up alone with no one to touch all over again. He couldn’t speak the words aloud, so he simply sat there, letting Zelda lay him in her lap. Her hands in his hair, her quiet humming, carried him through the staggered breathing and flashes of a burning world. By the time he came around again, dawn was breaking over the horizon and he didn’t have the energy to move. It was a miracle Zelda’s fingers hadn’t put him to sleep already.

“You’re here,” she whispered, far closer to his ear than he remembered her being. It made him shiver. “We’re here. I won’t let you be alone.”

No, she wouldn’t, because she was too good for that. She was too good to have suffered the way she did. Where he was responsible for bloodshed, she was devoted and loyal. Link still couldn’t understand why the Goddess and her powers ignored her for so long.

“Zelda,” he said in return, lifting his gaze to her at last. It was all that could be said.

He didn’t remember being moved to the pillows, but her head was next to his now and he was certain their legs were tangled together under the sheets. He was holding onto her nightshirt far too tightly, so he uncurled his fingers to take her hands instead.

“Link,” she replied, giving his hands a squeeze, and the ridiculousness of the idea that he couldn’t even form a thank you caused him to laugh. It started weak and hardly more than a chuckle, but Zelda giggled softly beside him, and it grew until he was gasping for breath.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was so funny. Maybe nothing was, and his laughter was simply a result of the unbridled joy she brought him. He would never truly know the answer to that question.

~~~

Zelda did not go without her fair share of torment. Nightmares were common, but her waking up with a blood curdling screaming in the middle of the day was not. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Her hands grasped at something, anything, but all she found was the now crumpled pages of her journal and the wooden desk that bestowed upon her hands a new splinter. She could feel her heart slamming against the inside of her ribs, trying to break free from the prison its sole job was to keep alive. She just barely registered the words coming from her mouth: “no, no, no.”

The door flew open. Footsteps pounded up the wooden stairs and she flinched when he entered her periferal.

“Zelda?” he asked as he knelt by her side. She slowly looked his way, her entire body trembling, and she wanted to cry.

“Link,” she whispered back, broken and watery. “Gods, I-”

“What happened?” he demanded, taking one of her hands. She winced. It was the hand with the splinter. He flipped it to her palm. She didn’t know how he could be so precise and smooth, but the intrusive piece of wood was gone before she could think of digging it out herself.

“I had a dream,” she explained, “the night before… before the Calamity. It made no sense but it felt… foreboding, like a promise—and I think I just had another.”

“Okay,” Link answered with a nod. She watched him shift, kneel in a more comfortable position--a sign he wasn’t going anywhere until she finished speaking. Zelda gripped his hands tighter. She recalled the whispered cries for help, the mangled corpse with glowing, familiar eyes, the feeling of falling down, down, down with him being the last thing she saw. She was shaking again, on the verge of tears, because she didn’t want to lose him again. They had only just started to learn how to love each other in a way that wasn’t dependent on who they were a century ago. She didn’t think she could do it again.

“It doesn’t feel like just a dream, does it?” he asked. Always so considerate, always so understanding.

“There’s been records of prophetic dreams,” she admitted quietly. She wished that if she didn’t speak it loud enough, then it wouldn’t be real.

“Do you think it’s prophetic?”

“I don’t know.”

She didn’t want it to be. The idea that this might not be over after all was terrifying. But Link gave her hands a gentle squeeze and pulled her forwards until she was on his lap, curled up into his arms where nothing could get to her. He was there, just as he always was. He was there when she visited the supposed grave of her father, and he was there when she took her first pilgrimage to Gerudo Town without the company of Urbosa, and he was there when the expectations of the past on her shoulders felt too heavy for her to keep afoot. What had she done to deserve his good graces?

“It’s okay,” he assured, even though she didn’t feel like it. His fingers came up to thread through her hair and she held onto him a little tighter. There were still the remnants of what it felt like to be falling, and the disgust and trepidation that came after seeing the dried out remains of someone who looked too familiar to be of any comfort.

“What if it’s real?” she asked in a whisper, trying to search his blue eyes for any indication that he was lying.

“There’s no way to know that for sure, but if it is, then I won’t let you face it alone.”

He looked so sincere. There wasn’t the slightest waver behind his eyes, or any uncertainty in his voice. He was so steady, so kind, and she almost believed him. She wanted more than anything to believe him. But she didn’t like the implications of her drop into the dark chasm, or the look on his face when she fell.

“I don’t want to do it again,” she said and lowered her head. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. Haven’t we done enough?”

He didn’t answer. He probably didn’t have anything to say, because the same questions must’ve been running through his mind. He had perished to the hands of the Calamity, and now at the slightest whisper of a return, what were they supposed to do?

“Zelda,” he said softly. She always liked how her name sounded in his voice, with no titles or such attached to it. “Look at me.”

She did. He took her chin in his hand, and she could melt at how gently he touched her. In this new age, outside of the eyes of Hyrule, she’d only seen him this serious on a few occasions.

“Yes?” she managed.

“I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

But he couldn’t always help it, and expecting it of him wasn’t fair. He was still learning how to deal with that knowledge--accepting that he couldn’t always stop what was to come. Even so, it made her feel better. It filled her with warmth to know he was still so determined to stay by her side.

Zelda managed a small smile, then assured them further with a feathersoft kiss. It wasn’t the first they’d shared, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was a comfort she indulged in whenever she could. There was no reason to be ashamed of it or want to hide it anymore. All those who might’ve cared were dead, and that, while by no means preferable, was perhaps the best part to come out of a fallen kingdom.

“You calm the panic in me too well,” she commented with a weak chuckle.

“I’m just returning the favor,” he replied with a shrug.

It took a few minutes more for them to untangle themselves and stand from the hardwood floor, but by the time they did, the nightmare that interrupted her nap was nothing more than an uneasy feeling in the back of her mind. She trusted in Link, in the bond that they’d not only repaired but regrew and strengthened from almost nothing, and if something wanted to tear them apart again, well, it would have to go through her.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Another day of side-effects where my head really hasn’t been in the game. But a little fun stuff to pass the time has managed to crop up. 

So sorry for the tease ending... I blame the headaches.

Chapter 27

  The Chef, Greg, had personally brought you extra leftovers during the five weeks you were living in the cell, training and learning about your abilities. He knew about your abnormal energy-consumption, and had become concerned when you never ordered more than a double portion of food, no matter how exhausted you were.   So, he’d come to give you the leftovers one evening, and you’d explained that it felt like you’d be stealing from others that might need it, if you ordered six or even eight portions.   After that, he’d begun saving all the leftovers every day, and bringing you that for the extra portions you otherwise wouldn’t have ordered.

  “I may have to make Greg my Best Man.”

  “He’d probably decline. He’s nice, but he does have standards.”

  “Ouch…”

  “He doesn’t know you, Cujo.”

  “Okay, seriously, what is up with that?”

  “It’s just an accurate description.”

  “I am not a fucking dog.”

  “Yes, you are. It’s just that, ordinarily, you’re a puppy. You just have that lovable puppy-face, with the eyes and the grin that can melt the coldest of hearts. And then, you bare your teeth and growl, and you look fucking terrifying.”

  “I do?”

  “Um – yes. Unequivocally – yes. It’s amazing.”

  “Wait… you like my Cujo-quality?”

  “I like that you have that side, when you need it. I like that it comes out almost exclusively to protect the things you love. And I have to admit that I like the fact that even the remotest possibility that William actually had tried something, elicited that kind of a response from you.”

  “I was a little shocked at how strongly I reacted to that. Just the thought… I would’ve killed him, if he had. Not because you… belong to me. But because you were weak and unable to stop anyone that might have tried. Thank god William’s even more of a puppy than I am.”

  “Will is more of a Greyhound.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you know – sleek, effective, streamlined.”

  “Okay, let’s just drop the whole dog-topic already.”

  “And, just for the record – of course I belong to you. Ass-hat.”

  He practically beamed at you.

  “Ditto. Mama bear.”

  You’d been talking while walking back from lunch, and when you got back to your office, Anita was there. Just standing in the middle of the room, with her signature scowl in full effect.

  “Hi, mom. Wow, you’re actually in the office, it must be serious.”

  “Fifty noise-complaints in the last hour – is serious.”

  You both stopped smiling, and threw a nervous glance at one another, but she just huffed and turned to you.

  “Have you had yourself checked out by medical, yet?”

  “No… why would I…?”

  “Because human beings don’t possess the biological imperative to breed, to the point where their libidos take control of their bodies.”

  You had actually checked both your offices for cameras and microphones a good while back, and found nothing. And there weren’t any fucking flowers in your office!

  “How the hell do you know that? Seriously… How?”

  She just rolled her eyes.

  “Get your ass down to medical. Now.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Whatever it is, I feel fine now, which means they probably wouldn’t be able to detect anything abnormal, so I’m gonna finish my work for the day, and then I’ll go to medical.”

  You walked over to your desk as you spoke, and as you sat down, you remembered something.

  “And by the way, where you in charge of selecting my substitute while I was gone?”

  “Yes. Petra wasn’t ideal.”

  “You don’t say. If I’m ever gone for an extended period of time again, no one sets foot in my fucking office. Got it?”

  “Did you just try and give me an order, loco?”

  “I’m not trying anything. I’m telling you. No one.”

  She threw you a kinda skewed smile and then turned around to leave. But as she crossed the threshold she stopped and looked back at you with pure steel in her eyes.

  “4pm. If you’re not at medical by then, I’ll drag you there by your ear.”

  “Try it. Please.”

  She left and you sighed and looked at Marcus, who had sat down on the couch again, one arm draped over the backrest while he’d watched you take on Máma.

  “Are you absolutely sure you feel fine? Because I’m all kinds of hot and bothered right now.”

  “50 noise-complaints, Marcus. That’s half the damned building.”

  “And like I said: fuck ‘em.”

  “Please go away so I can think.”

  “Only if you promise to call me the moment you feel any amount of craving. I’m serious.”

  “You think I want to feel like that again? Of course I’ll call, and you’d better pick up. I don’t care if HQ’s on fire.”

  “You have my word, famb.”

  “You know, your list of nicknames is getting a bit ridiculously long.”

  “Oh, I haven’t even started on the real one’s yet.”

  “Real ones?”

  “Prometida, esposa, amada, mi corazón…”

  “Okay, okay, have as many as you like, jeez.”

  “Which one’s your favourite?”

  “You already know.”

  He got up from the sofa and came over to kiss you before he left. His lips lingered long after the kiss ended.

  “Hermosa…”

  He was intoxicating. You put a hand up on his chest and pushed him away gently.

  “Get out of here, gorgeous. Mama’s got work to do.”

  “Oh, that’s mean. You know how I love it when you talk all husky like that.”

  “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  He walked away looking disappointed, but also kind of expectant, like he was looking forward to getting you back later. You smiled and shook your head after the door closed behind him.

  You did get a lot of work done after that, and even if you were still miles behind from catching up to where you’d been 7 weeks ago, it still felt good to have gotten back on track. Especially on what had been possibly the weirdest day of your life. Which was saying something.   Your libido stayed calm and behaved for the rest of the workday, but you did see Anita’s point in getting yourself checked over, and so you were planning on going to the med-bay.   But at 3:30 you were working on your computer, looking up rare metals for an upcoming build, and you sort of stumbled over a site for wedding-rings.   You were just gonna take a quick peak, scrolling through the various options, and getting progressively more worked up as you saw the price-tags.   You were just about to leave the page and go back to work, when an ad in the corner popped up.

  Wedding-dresses.

  Fuck.

  You clicked.

  “If you thought I was kidding about the ear, you were sorely mistaken.”

  You startled at the sound of her voice, and a puff of energy escaped you, sending papers flying everywhere.

  “Thanks a lot, Anita. Why don’t you give me a heart-attack while you’re at it?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not my fault you were so engrossed in that screen you didn’t notice me. What were you looking at, anyway?”

  Had half an hour already passed? You just clicked on that ad a second ago… And why was she looking at you like that?

  “Just research.”

  “Mhm. Let’s go.”

  “Alright, just let me get these papers off the floor.”

  As expected, since the event seemed to have passed, the medical exam didn’t reveal anything, and Anita seemed unnecessarily peeved about that.

  “What are you so upset about? What exactly did you think they’d find?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Never mind, my ass. You all but dragged me to this exam, and now you’re disappointed. So, spill. What’s the deal?”

  “I just hoped that maybe… you increased enthusiasm was…”

  “Was…?”

  “Alright, most women experience increased sensitivity when they’re pregnant. I just wanted to be sure.”

  You sort of half froze midway through pulling your pants back on, and your hands involuntarily went to your abdomen.

  “Oh… I never even considered…”

  “I’m sorry, niña. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, I’m not upset. God, I don’t even know what I am.”

  You finished dressing and sat down on a chair, letting your head fall into your hands.

  “Eight months ago, I was just a designer, going on a fucking vacation. Now, I don’t even know what the hell I am anymore, much less what to do. Every time I think I’m starting to get a handle on things, something else happens and I’m lost again.”

  She tapped your leg with her cane, ushering you to look at her.

  “What you are, is my son’s fiancé. My granddaughter’s adoptive mother. You’re smart, highly capable and stubborn, kind and caring, but abrasive when the situation requires it. You’re everything you need to be. And that’s all you ever really need to know about yourself.”

  You drew a deep breath.

  “Do you think he made the right choice? With me?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Thank you.”

  You called Marcus to let him know how the exam had gone, and he was just about to pick up Missy, so since you had your own car you told him you’d race him home.   But you decided to stop by Amanda’s house on the way. You wanted to talk to both of them, but her place was closer.

  When you walked in at home, Missy was in the living room playing a video-game with Noodles, A Capella and Wild Card. It had been a while since she’d had any friends over, and you smiled when you saw how much fun she was having.

  “Hey, Alma! Wanna see me crush these guys for the second time?”

  “Any day of the week, angel, but I gotta talk to your dad right now.”

  “Okay, suit yourself!”

  You laughed and walked into the kitchen to find him opening pizza-boxes and distributing slices onto plates.

  “Hey, sweetheart, sorry, this wasn’t planned, they just spontaneously asked if they could come over as I was picking her up.”

  “Honey, why are you explaining yourself?”

  “I don’t know… it’s just, with the weird day you’ve had and how you seemed a little down after the exam, I thought that maybe you weren’t quite in the mood for a house full of teenagers.”

  “No matter how I feel, Missy’s entitled to enjoy herself with her friends. I would never wanna deprive her of that.”

  “No, I know. I just worry about you.”

  “Yeah, I do too, sometimes. But that’s usually when I remember I have you, and it all feels better.”

  He smiled and asked you to help him carry out the food to the living room, and once you’d done that, you sat down at the dinner table to eat yourselves.

  “So… I may have googled wedding-dresses today.”

  He beamed.

  “Really? Did you manage to narrow down any preferences? Don’t give me any specifics, by the way.”

  “I did, I think. Or, at least, I found a lot of stuff I didn’t like, so I guess that helps. I don’t know, I feel like I need to see them, touch them, to actually get a sense of what I like.”

  He beamed even more.

  “I really like the sound of this. I’m sure Amaire would come with you if you asked.”

  “Yeah, I kind of already asked them to, this weekend.”

  He was fucking radiating joy at that point. He got up and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom and closing the door behind you.   Then he reached into his pocket and fished something out. His smile turned just a hint of insecure, as he held up the ring he’d chosen for you.   It was gold-plated steel, with a single row of small diamonds sunk into the centre of the band all the way around. A sturdy and solid piece that wouldn’t break or lose its shape.   While you admired it, he started trying to explain his choice.

  “I know you’re not much of a jewellery-girl, so I figured we’d skip the whole engagement ring plus wedding-band. You can wear it right away if you want and then just take it off before the ceremony, or you can wait and put it on then, either way is fine with me. That is, if you like it? If you don’t, we’ll take it back and you can pick something else. It just felt right as soon as I saw it. You’re not the frail silver band type of person, and I know you’d only get annoyed with a big rock getting in the way and getting caught in stuff. You work with your hands and so I figured something sturdy but elegant. I have a matching one just without the diamonds. Please say something before I pass out from oxygen-depravation…”

  “I love it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Really.”

  You both beamed.

  “Can I put it on you?”

  “You better.”

  He slipped it on your finger and it fit perfectly. And for the first time it really sunk in that you were gonna marry this man. The love of your life.   It felt like a really long time until the kids went home and Missy went to bed, with her headphones on.

  “I totally forgot, we need to go bed-shopping, honey.”

  “I don’t know, a mattress on the floor might be preferable until we know the extent of your ‘heat-situation’.”

  “Mm. Good point. Although, breaking in a new bed is always fun.”

  “Hermosa.”

  “What?”

  “Stop talking and get undressed. I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​​ @farfromjustordinary​ @allmyspideys​ @hrk-fic-recs​ @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts​ @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

[asian-hero]

Hmm how does "Itss freezing, come here" sound with todoroki?

A/N: You got it! I hope you enjoy, and I also hope that I did Todoroki justice!

“It’s freezing, come here” from this prompt list (feel free to send in a sentence(s) and a character!)

Summary: When coming back from their remedial classes, Bakugou somehow breaks the heating system for class 1-A’s dorms, which is unfortunate, as it’s possibly the coldest night that year. However, you’re lucky to have your own personal heater to keep you warm through this dreary night.

Words: 1,846

There were some days when you questioned just why you came to U.A., of all places. Of course, you wanted to be a hero, and with U.A.’s track record, you knew it was the best school for your ideal job, not to mention all of the famous alumni the school had. However, whenever you had to deal with the mostly endearing, but also irritating, personalities of your classmates, it was safe to say that you questioned whether being enrolled here was truly a good idea or not. 

You absolutely adored your classmates, for the most part. Everyone would do their best to help one another, even if it weren’t in the most conventional way. Even Bakugou, much to his annoyance, would help out his classmates, though it usually ended up with him yelling confusingly encouraging threats to everyone. All of them were, whether you liked it or not, were your family away from home. It was heartwarming to see how close you all had become. 

With that being said, there were also times that, similarly to most family structures, they’d drive you absolutely crazy. Which is what brought you to what was currently happening:

You were just sitting on one of the couches in the common area, minding your own business, when you heard the soft click of the heater turning off. Lifting your head up, you looked around to see if anyone had messed with the dial, and before you could even get up and walk towards it, you could hear a certain overly aggressive, explosive porcupine of a student yell out: DAMN IT. Confusion and curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to follow the scream. Pulling on a sweater, you headed down the stairs and out the dorms. Popping your head around the corner, you were faced with Bakugou (what a surprise) looking towards something with a pissed off look on his face, and, more surprisingly, Todoroki, who was currently looking up at the sky, looking as if he wanted God to strike him down where he stood. Clearing your throat, you made your presence known.

“What are,” You started, before your eyes traveled to where Bakugou was looking, “How the fuck?”

“Shut up, extra.”

The two of you stared at the heating system, or what was left of it. Somehow, the damned idiot had managed to blow up the heater, if the large hole in the middle of it were to say anything. Slowly, you looked at the two boys, your face morphing from your initial shock to annoyance.

“I— Bakugou how do you even do this?”

His head whipped towards you, anger and embarrassment mixing together. “Why do you assume it was me!”

“It was him,” Todoroki chipped in, holding his indifferent facade as the other male turned his anger on him.

“Listen here, IcyHot—“

Not wanting to see this one-sided argument, you sighed loudly, once again capturing the two’s attention.

“Just,” You started, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Just get inside.”

With that, you didn’t bother to wait up, opting to walk back into the dorms, hoping to catch what was left of the disappearing warmth. However, once you got back upstairs, you noticed Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida sitting in the common area, bundled up in their blankets and perplexed looks on their faces. Once they had noticed you walking over Uraraka was the first to speak:

“What was that yelling outside?”

Squishing in beside her on the couch, you wrapped some of her blanket over your body, “Bakugou managed to blow up the heating unit outside.” 

“Ah, so that’s why the dial wasn’t doing anything,” Iida chimed in, before frantically jumping up, “Wait, Bakugou did what?”

“He blew up the heating unit.” A new voice stated, his blunt nature making him easy to identify.

Twisting your head a bit, you took note of Todoroki coming in, waving a quick “hello” to the four of you before heading off to his room, most likely to avoid from the lecture Iida was about to give. When your eyes lingered on the spot he was at, Uraraka smirked, bumping your shoulder with her own.

“You know,” She started, her voice masked by Iida’s lecture, as Bakugou had just entered, “You can always ask Todoroki to keep you warm tonight.”

Feeling the heat rush up your neck, you shoved her face away, coughing in embarrassment. “Ochako, don’t say that!”

She wriggled her eyebrows up and down, her smirk never leaving her face. “I don’t know why you don’t ask, you know he’d be happy to cuddle you.”

You rolled your eyes, praying that your blushing face wasn’t noticeable. “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not even that cold.”

She gave you a quizzical look, as if not believing you for a second, but she dropped the subject. For the next hour, it was rather pleasant. The conversation rolling between the four of you was distracting you from the fact that the air was getting considerably colder as time went on. Eventually, you couldn’t really keep the chill away from your body, no matter how tucked in you were. At one point you were convinced you saw Uraraka’s breath when she spoke, although, with the way her teeth were starting to chatter, it wasn’t a surprise. As a matter of fact, Midoriya and Iida were also shivering, with the latter doing his best to hold it in. It was honestly shocking that none of you brought up the fact that it was as if you were all sitting outside, but perhaps you could attribute that to the fact that none of you actually wanted to complain.

Just as you were about to call it a night and see if you could try and retain the small remnants of your body heat, Uraraka’s yelling pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, hey Todoroki!”

Turning your head slightly, you could see the Half-Cold Half-Hot quirk wielder shoot you all a small wave, his other hand occupied with a glass of water. Glancing at your fiend of a friend, you saw a mischievous smirk appear on her face. You didn’t even have the time to question it before she spoke:

“Well, it’s getting a bit late, we should head off to bed. Right Iida, Deku?” Standing up, she shrugged off her blanket and turned towards Todoroki, “(Y/N) wants to stay up for a bit, you’ll keep her company, right?”

She didn’t bother waiting for a response, instead opting to drag the other two by their blankets, not listening to either of their concerns.

“Ochako, your blanket!” You yelled after her, but to no avail. She’d already left the scene.

Sighing, you settled yourself back into the couch, further wrapping yourself into the blanket. A few seconds had passed and you felt the weight shift from under you. Peeking a glance at the boy, you noticed he didn’t have a blanket on him, or any form of coat for that matter. Actually, he didn’t even seem bothered by the lack of heat.

“Are you not cold?”

He shook his head, placing down his cup of water, “No, I can regulate my own temperature,” Bending over a bit, he tried to make eye contact with you, “Why, are you?”

You pursed your lips together in an attempt to stop any smart remarks to come flying out. Huffing, you turned your head away from him, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your flustered appearance.

“Well excuse me, but not everyone is able to control their body temperature on demand.”

The chattering of your teeth and your slight shivering made it hard to hear his comeback, but you just knew he said something snarky. You playfully glared at him, though, in your current state, you doubt that you looked any form of threatening. He snorted, but you could tell he took some form of pity on you, if the creasing of his eyebrows were any indication.

Thinking back to what Uraraka said, you couldn’t help but wonder that, if you asked nicely, Todoroki would be up to cuddle you. Not in a romantic way, as much as you wanted it to be, but mainly to keep you from dying of hypothermia. Of course, he’d probably be too nice to say “no,” but you didn’t want to overstep your bounds. But, on the other hand, you were cold as hell and he looked like a nice, warm, pillow.

“(Y/N)? Are you still there?”

You blinked a bit, leaving your thoughts. Todoroki was staring at you, one eyebrow propped up in an inquisitive nature. You must’ve been staring at him while you drifted off. Looking at him once more, all you could see was a warm heat radiator that wasn’t broken. So, as anyone would do in this situation, you spoke:

“It’s freezing, come here.”

It was his turn to stare at you, a bit confused at your request. “I’m sorry, what?”

You groaned internally, not really wanting to repeat yourself and kind of wishing that the earth would swallow you whole. However, you already jumped through the rabbit hole, so you might as well let yourself fall.

“I said come over here you glorified heating pad and cuddle me,”

You seemed to get his attention with that one, as a small smile found its way to his lips. Letting out an obnoxious sigh, he scooted towards you, pulling your blanket cocoon form by the waist. Once you were settled onto his chest, he wrapped both arms around your figure. Or, whatever figure your cocoon had. 

“Better?”

You shook your head, wriggling your way out of his grasp so you could unwrap yourself from the blanket. Once you were out, you placed the blanket over the two of you and laid back down, burying your face in his chest so he couldn’t see you.

“Perfect,” You mumbled, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around his torso.

You couldn’t see it, but Todoroki’s facial expression turned even softer at that. Somehow you had managed to wrap him around your little finger, not that he minded. One of his hands had came up to brush through your strands of hair, while the other wrapped around you securely. You didn’t know how long it took, but somehow you had managed to drift off, and eventually, you fell into a peaceful sleep.

Once he’d felt your breathing start to even out, Todoroki patted your head. Shifting ever so slightly, he rested his head on the armrest of the couch. Looking down at you one more time, he smiled.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

It wasn’t that much of a surprise to you that, the next morning, you were woken up by the sounds of cameras shuttering and lights flashing. Of course, in all fairness, it also shouldn’t have been surprising for the half of your class watching you and Todoroki sleep that you’d immediately chase them and give them hell.

It wasn’t that bad though. After all, you did get a nice picture to use as your screen saver.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 136

136

It was getting harder and harder to talk to Keith. He didn’t hate or blame his boyfriend. Lance just missed him so much. Nothing felt the same. He should be happy. None of his family here knew he was a vampire, none of them knew he was the same Lance that left, only that they remembered “his father when he was a little boy”. The family was loud. Loud and loving, and religious. His Mami spent so much time with them that he regretted them not coming back sooner.

With Mami busy, it should have been easy to find a moment alone to talk to Keith. His mum spent more time with the family than at hotel now, meaning he’d scored one or two private conversations. He’d scored some serious alone time too, for a very... graphic call. Then... then everything started going wrong again. Keith wouldn’t be home for Christmas. He wouldn’t be home for New Years. He wouldn’t be home for a while now and Lance’s heart broke on the spot. Keith was so apologetic. So sad to tell him. Lance had called him to show him the beach down from the hotel, where dozens of tourists had flocked during their vacations. He’d “splurged”. Got a nice umbrella, a really nice big red towel, a good book, and called up Keith. He couldn’t blame Keith. Zarkon was pissed at Lotor. Lotor dropped contact when he’d gone home to face his father. Keith roped into the mission to find out what was going on. He’d promised to call when he could, but it wasn’t the same. Keith was always so tired. They barely talked a handful of minutes at a time, then he had to go completely silent.

Lance had gone back to the hotel room and cried. He couldn’t do much else. He’d put on a brave wobbly smile for Keith, but Keith was supposed to be back the next week. The conversation playing on loop in his mind like a torturous reminder of how far apart they were and that they seemed to be drifting apart further by the day. He was supposed to come back then come down to Cuba. Now he didn’t know where the fuck his boyfriend was, or when he’d be home again. He’d cried and cried so much that Mami had to get a lift back to the hotel from one the cousins. Holding him against her, she kissed his hair and hushed him until he was calm enough to talk to her.

He really shouldn’t be saying Mami spent all her time with the family. Not more than what was expected, and they’d had a lot of fun playing tourists and doing all the things tourists did that Mami was up for. A few people tried to fleece them, thinking them dumb tourists until Mami put them in their places. No one messed with his Mami, not when she was Cuban born and bread. They’d gone dancing. Picked the most expensive place they could for dinner. Eaten ice cream by the beach, as she told him about the first time his Papi taught Luis to surf on a long board. She’d told him so much of the stories about her and his dad. They’d gone driving, Mami talking about the trouble they used to get up to, visiting the farms where Jorge had worked and the family farm that was still being run by cousins. He loved how happy she was. It was like 50 years had been knocked off her life. He’d heard too much... like his father being good in bed, but seeing all these places again after so much time was amazing. And that Mami would remember something from so long ago... He took back wanting Coran to take them back home.

Seeing Keith couldn’t come back in time, Lance decided against going back for Christmas. His Mami had told the family that he was expecting his first children, and boy did the aunts fuss. They wanted to know everything about “Lance’s son”. Lance didn’t know if he lived up to all the hype, but he did remember to bring flowers and accept kisses... and weird hugs where they couldn’t feel his extending belly. They were touched he’d followed his father into law, leading to him being too smart more than once. Lies about a sun allergy and a bunch of allergies covered up when he was feeling ill. Mami had forced enough home remedies for morning sickness down his throat he literally feared what she’d come up with next. He missed his boyfriend with all his heart. And every day away without proper word, or any word, weighed on him so heavily he wasn’t sure how he’d ever lived without Keith. But spending this time with Mami and no fear felt good.

*

Parking in front of Lance’s house, Keith eyes the lights on the living room with fear and excitement... and a whole lot of happiness to be home again. Two months he’d been away from Lance. Two fucking bullshit months. He hadn’t been able to get hold of Lance for the last few weeks, after breaking his boyfriend’s heart it felt strained every time they talked face to face. Lance knew he couldn’t answer his phone, so he’d expected a flurry of messages and missed calls, like normal, when he’d come back from the ridiculousness. There’d been nothing. Well, not nothing, his boyfriend had texted a couple of times to say he loved him, but overall, he’d kind of been out of full contact from the 28th of December. He tried Lance’s phone as soon as the shit storm finally settled. He’d tried messaging him. He’d tried Lance’s personal phone and work phone. He’d tried his home phone. Shiro and Curtis were coming back next week. His idiot brother went and broke his arm. Matt and Rieva had already come back earlier... but their car wasn’t in the drive. He knew he’d hurt Lance by not being there, but it felt like a kick to the gut that his boyfriend hadn’t tried to reach out at all.

Taking an earlier, public, flight. He’d rented a car, then headed straight up to Garrison. He hadn’t even had a “Merry Christmas” in the slightest. Mami had to explain that Lance was resting, and not doing too well. His boyfriend barely got to talk to him the following day, pale and sleepy, while assuring him it was from mami’s latest idea on how to help with this morning sickness. He hated that he’d only been able to find 5 minutes of alone time to be with Lance.

Climbing out the car, Keith fixed his jacket up, hoping he didn’t look like he’d spent hours stuck on a place that had far too many people on it. He hoped Lance was there, and that nothing had gone wrong in his absence. Jogging up to the front door, Keith knocked. Hunk’s car was in the drive, but Lance’s wasn’t. He hoped that meant Lance’s car was being serviced. He was going crazy. He’d tried to think of what he’d said or done that could have driven Lance from him. He never wanted to be away that long. February had started just as he finally arrived back in Rome. He hadn’t seen Lance what felt like two years. No. Every day felt like two years. Matt delighted at teasing him over it. Fucking werewolves didn’t age like normal people. He wasn’t stupid. Two and half years human years was like one years worth of again for werewolves. It wasn’t fair.

Opening the door, Hunk stared at him. His friend looked like he’d seen better days too. He’d missed them. He hadn’t heard from them either in the last two weeks. Shuffling forward, Hunk wrapped his arms around Keith. It should have been a happy hug, yet Keith could feel there was more to it. Hugging Hunk back, he didn’t force him to tell him where Lance was. The sick feelings of fear and dread so damn heavy that he feared he’d throw up if he opened his mouth. Breaking the hug, Hunk let out a long breath

“Oh, man. It’s so good to see you back. Does Lance know you’re back? Does this means he’ll be coming back again?”

Again? He was missing something...

“Hun.-.. Holy Shit!”

Pidge came running from the living room, Keith catching her as she launched herself at him for a hug

“I can’t believe you’re back! When you missed the funeral I wasn’t sure you’d ever be coming back. Is Lance with you?”

Funeral? What funeral? And where was Lance? His confusion showed. Hunk looking pained

“You’d better come in, man. You’ve missed a lot”

A fine layer of dust covered most things in the house. There was evidence that Hunk and Pidge had tried to keep on top of the housework, but it was far cry from Lance’s standards. The house felt cold. Empty. Painfully abandoned as he followed Hunk into the kitchen. He had to know what was happening here. Lance’s house was warm and bright. Happy and safe. Not like this

“What’s going on? And what’s this about a funeral?”

Hunk sighed heavily as he went about getting the coffee pod into the machine. Pidge sitting herself on the kitchen counter, looking sad as she did

“You didn’t hear?”

Keith shook his head

“I’ve been trying to reach Lance but he hasn’t replied. I thought he’d be back here by now”

Pidge bit her lip, eyes getting wet behind her glasses. Hunk turning to him

“His mum died. They had the funeral three ago”

Keith staggered because he didn’t see that coming. Hunk came to his aid, taking him by the arm and pulling out Lance’s usual seat to sit him in

“What? When?”

“I think I was the...”

“On the sixth... Coran speed tracked things, helped get her home. He... went with him to the funeral. It was a nice service... His siblings tried to bar him from attending. We recorded it for him. We tried to go with him, but Coran took him away again. I guess because you guys still weren’t safe or something”

Did his mother know about Mami? She’d joined the mission at a different stage to him. Meeting with them when they were closer to Zarkon’s territory

“H-how?”

“In her sleep. Lance was with her, he still wouldn’t tell us where they went. They’d slept over, and she passed away in her sleep”

He couldn’t process it at all. Mami was amazing. She always, always bounced back. Hunk hugged him

“I know, man. I know you two were tight. I hoped Lance had gone to be with you, but I guess that wasn’t the case”

“Do... do you know where he is?”

Hunk shook his head

“He apologised and said he had some things he needed to do. Didn’t you see Coran?”

“Lance didn’t reply to my messages so I got the first flight back I could get on”

Pidge nodded at him

“We asked Coran if we could talk to him, but Lance said he needed space. We didn’t know if you’d broken up or not because he was back and you weren’t. I didn’t think you wouldn’t know”

“I... had no idea...”

Did this mean it was over? That Lance no longer wanted to be with him? How could Mami have passed away nearly... how... he couldn’t process not knowing. He had to go back to Platt. Coran had to tell him what the fuck was going on. There hadn’t even been a message left at headquarters. He didn’t get it

“We tried to figure out how to contact you, but my messages wouldn’t go through to your phone. I guess you must have been busy... Matt and Rieva came back home, but they went back up to Platt. I know Coran couldn’t tell us if Lance had left again, but I get the feeling he’s gone back where he’d been hiding out. He probably doesn’t know you’re back”

Keith pushed his chair back, Hunk stepped back

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll go talk to Coran. I’ll make him tell me where Lance is”

Lance... Keith hoped Lance was waiting for him wherever he was. He hoped his boyfriend still believed he was coming back to him. He’d seen how hurt all the near misses Mami gave him left him. He couldn’t believed he’d missed this... He never should have gone to fucking Rome. He felt wrong about doing it before he left and worse after

“Can we come?”

“I don’t think I’ll be very good company. I can’t... Mami... it’s not fair”

Pidge shook her head at him

“I don’t care. I’m sick of not knowing what’s going on. Lance really needs you right now and Coran has to talk to us properly if you’re back, that has to mean it’s safe”

Driving back to Platt, Keith couldn’t stop thinking about Lance. He didn’t call ahead because he didn’t want Coran to fob him off, or even worse, tell him that Lance didn’t want to see him. His mind was firmly on Lance every single moment until the elevator doors were opening and he had his arms full of Coran

“Oh, my boy. You are a sight for sore eyes”

Yay. Good for him

“Where the fuck is Lance?”

Direct. To the point. His words summed up the only thing that mattered

“Ah. Come with me”

Led to Coran’s office, Keith leaned against the door cutting off Coran’s means of escape. Coran sighing as he moved the papers on his desk away from Pidge and Hunk

“Sorry, about that. Sensitive data...”

“Coran!”

Okay. He was being rude and bossy, Coran wincing at his name

“Lance is Cuba”

Cuba. Keith could have punched himself in the face for not picking it. Mami wanted to go Cuba again, Lance had been talking about going with her. It made so much sense. The sand and the beach. The feel of the hotel room. The different rooms in the background and voices. Why Mami looked so happy. She’d looked younger too. Like she was free of a great burden... If she was going to pass away anywhere, she did where she had so much of her family. But he just... he couldn’t get his head around it

“What happened?”

Coran sighed again, rubbing at his face as he did

“I think it’s better if we discuss that alone...”

“Fuck off, he’s our best friend. He’s basically our family and you wouldn’t tell us anything”

Pidge was right. The gremlin cranky as heck. Hunk bold enough to add

“We barely got to see him at the funeral. We’ve tried talking to him but he hasn’t answered us”

“Yeah. You said we couldn’t know until it was safer. Keith’s home now. Why can’t you tell us what’s happening?!”

“Lance asked I talk to Keith when he came. He asked me to keep you both safe. I sincerely hated not being able to tell you Lance’s whereabouts. I can tell you he is safe. I did talk to him this morning. He decided to remain in Cuba until Keith returned”

Pidge crossed her arms

“You could have let us see him after the funeral”

“He was in no fit state. He was recovering. I did ask him stay, but he insisted that he needed to be in Cuba”

“Wait. You said he was “recovering” did something happen?”

“A small bleed. The loss of Miriam hit him hard. Stress and exhaustion coupled with the loss of his mother. He tried to brave it alone, but the poor boy wanted to go to Rome to be with you. I did try to contact you through the Blades, but was informed that you were currently on a mission and not accepting messages or calls”

Keith could murder. He could murder all day. He could murder all the people who thought he didn’t need to know this. Thank fuck he’d never set foot in there. He’d officially resigned. He’d only ever been back thanks to Lotor. He was officially retired from their registry and now out of the loop, outside of his mother, completely. Krolia understood. Then decided during all the shit happening that she had to go develop feelings for Kolivan which he’d never seen coming until he thought about how happier his mother had been in Platt, and wondered if she’d held everything inside of herself so “he wouldn’t have a reason to hate her”. Adults were complicated. His mum and Kolivan triply so. Okay. Maybe he liked his mother a whole lot more to the point where he was accepting he loved her. But Kolivan... he didn’t want to think about them... that... “doing the do”.

Sendak was dead, which was a good thing. The trouble was that they had different statements. Lance had admitted to killing Sendak, and asked for leniency towards Lotor as he was only trying to protect him. Mountains of briefings were had. Secret squirrel meetings behind closed door. Lotor left then they had to go find him...

“I quit. Them... again. Permanently this time. They asked me to resume my duties in Rome and I declined. Petty wankers”

“Yes, well. I was told about what eventuated. I can’t say I’m too happy over the method”

That was a conversation to have with Lance first. Then with Pidge and Hunk, if Matt and Rieva hadn’t first. Which reminded him

“Where are Matt and Rieva?”

“They wished to see Lance. As I couldn’t send them to see him, as per Lance’s request. I sent them down there on “holiday””

Great. They could have him know

“Did you tell him?”

“No. In all honesty I believe he only stayed in Cuba because he wanted to wait in a safe place until your return. He has missed you very much. He did leave you a letter here”

“When can I see him?”

“I’m on relatively good terms with save. A wonderful vampire runs it as a safe haven for those down there...”

Pidge held her hand up, telling Coran to stop

“What the heck is “Save”?”

“South American Vampire Enterprises”. We all know how the world perceives some countries, they look past this, and honestly the media is terrible at painting them in a bad light when they’re filled with such wonderful people. I’ve put them in contact with Lance. He’d been very cooperative and we talk each morning. I actually know her...”

Not another sex story. Keith couldn’t do it

“That’s not what I asked about. I asked when I can see my boyfriend”

“I was getting there. We used special permission with Miriam and Lance. There is only so much aid they can provide, however, I did inform her that you would be joining Lance once your work was completed. It may take a few hours to get things settled and permission. That’s why I was not able to send Matt and Rieva privately. I barely managed to get their tickets and visas processed. Your Blade status did allow access into most countries, but I went ahead with processing what I could of your visa when Matt and Rieva returned. I was most sad that you hadn’t contacted me”

He didn’t think about it. He was too busy trying to talk to Lance, and ignoring the fact he’d accidentally made friends with the werewolves. They still thought Lance was a bad arse killing machine fighting for good and some other bullshit like that. They hadn’t seen his damn nightmares

“Coran, when I can see Lance?”

“Tonight. I’ll make plans right away, tonight is the earliest I can do. Unfortunately for you, Pidge and Hunk, I can only send Keith as you two are not VOLTRON hunters. However, you are free to wait here until they return, though that will be up to Lance and Keith. Rieva and Matt will return next Monday”

Hunk looked to Pidge, Pidge then looked to Keith and nodded. Keith felt bad that they couldn’t come, Pidge seemed to read his mind

“He really needs you more than he needs us right now. When you find him, you have to swear you’ll call us and let us know that he’s okay. And you have to tell him we miss him and want him to come home already”

“I... I’m not going to rush him”

“You don’t need to. We just want him to know where not mad and we miss him. If he gets hurt on your watch, we will kick your arse”

“I feel like you guys should be there as much as I should”

“We already got to see him since you did. He loves us, but he’s waiting for you”

Keith looked to Coran, Coran smiling at him. Keith didn’t particularly feel this was a time to be smiling. He was still worried about this bleed, on top of if Matt and Rieva had helped Lance or simply upset him

“I’ll get right onto it. Here, this is from Lance, perhaps you should read it before you see him? He took the loss of Miriam very hard. I’m sorry we couldn’t contact you sooner about it. We would have pulled you out of your mission if you’d been here. I’m sorry for your loss”

Being stuck waiting for permission, the trio went up to the bookshop. Keith had never sat down in the bookshop before. The three of them sitting near the front window, Lance’s letter in Keith’s hands. He wanted to know what Lance was thinking, but he also wanted to hear everything from his boyfriend himself. Was there some goodbye in the letter? Had Lance not thought he’d ever return? How many times had he checked his phone for news, only to find nothing. He wanted to call him, but with Lance not answering his calls... and only his calls it seemed. Matt and Rieva were there. That was good. They could have fucking contacted him though. They knew the mission was wrapping up. God. He hoped they’d told Lance he was okay.

“Keith?”

Keith blinked, realising he was crying. Teardrops on the envelope of the letter

“Sorry... I was thinking about what Lance must have been going through”

Hunk nodded at him

“He’s all we’ve been thinking about too. Do you want us to go so you can read the letter alone?”

“No... I... should I read it?”

“Lance wrote it for you. He must have had a lot to say”

“I want to hear that from him. What if... what if he thought it was over?”

“Even if he did, he still waited for you... Did... did you guys have a fight?”

A fight would have been easier. They could have made up if they had. He would have pestered Lance into talking to him...

“No. It just got harder and harder to call... I’m sorry, I want to explain things to him first. So much happened that I don’t know where to begin... I haven’t... talked to him since the end of December... when I got back, he didn’t answer any of my calls or messages”

“I’m sure he just needed time, Bud. I think you should read what Lance wrote”

Pidge nodded her agreement

“Even if it’s hard or something you don’t want to read, he still wrote whatever it was that he was feeling and thinking...”

Keith looked at the envelope again

“I think... I think I’m going to wait until I see him. He can tell me off then”

“Are you sure? He did write it for you”

“Yeah. I’m not going to believe it’s over until he tells me himself”

“We’ve got hours by the seems of things, what do you want to now you’re back?”

He wanted to get up and pace. Start yelling. Demand Coran hurry up. If he could have driven to Cuba he probably would have

“Maybe you can fill me in on everything else I’ve missed?”

Pidge snorted

“Let’s go get coffee then. You’ve like, missed nothing”

[arrow-guy]

Out of Time (1/??)

Synopsis: Asta is a woman out of time. She’s strong, and damn near indestructible, but when she wakes up hundreds of years in the future, she’s completely lost. She finds a new family in Peggy Carter and friends in people that she never would have dreamed of. But not everyone gets what they want, right?

A/N: Alright, I’m not really one to write OC content, but I couldn’t resist with this story. It’s a huge project that’s going to cover a lot of ground, but I hope it’ll be as fun to read as it has been to write. If you’d like, I’ve put together a Spotify playlist for this fic and you’re more than welcome to listen along!

Pairing: Jack ThompsonxOFC (Steve RogersxOFC endgame)

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Playlist

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

“This all must be quite shocking for you.”

“I am not sure that’s the phrasing I would use.”

“Then how would you describe it?” The woman tilted her head to the side.

“I…” I sighed. “It’s disorienting. If I truly have been asleep for more than three hundred years, then there is so much that I’ve missed.”

“Your family?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’ve lost so much time. There’s so much history that I missed. I have very little idea where I am, let alone how this new world works.”

She hummed. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure that you do.” I gestured to the small room. “All of this is foreign to me. Lamps that light at the flip of a switch, listening devices, new weapons. Carriages without horses or mules. Everything.”

“Yes, there’s a lot we have to teach you. If you’re willing to learn, that is.”

“You don’t know me. What I’m capable of.”

“Then teach us,” she said. “Work with us. I, for one, would like to help you build a new life here.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, I clenched my hands in my lap. “Why?”

“Because everyone deserves a chance. You never got yours.” She leaned forward on the table. “Do you have a name?”

I shook my head. “Not one that is worth using.”

“Then I suppose that means you get to choose a new one.” She smiled kindly and pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll give you some time to think about everything.”

“No.” She stopped in her tracks. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll stay,” I said. “If you will have me.”

“Of course we will. And, your name?”

“M-my name… Asta. My name will be Asta.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Asta. I’m Peggy Carter.” She grinned. “I have a very good feeling about our future.”

“You’ll be staying here for the time being,” Peggy showed me into a small apartment. “You’re only three doors down from me, so come find me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Peggy.”

“It’s nothing, Asta, really.” She fussed with the cushions on the small couch. “As of Friday, you are legally my sister. If someone asks for your surname, you tell them it’s Carter. Understood?”

“I understand, but I have no accent. It’s hardly believable.”

“If you’re questioned, we’ll say you were sent to live with relatives here during the first war. You stayed here for university and lost your accent when you were young.”

“I feel as if we may lose track of this lie.”

“We’ll be careful. If you have to leave your room, I’ll go with you. Field any questions someone may ask.”

“Alright.”

“There isn’t much that you can talk about from this century until you start your lessons.”

“When will we start?”

“Tomorrow morning. We’ll go to the library and you can choose whatever you like.” She paused to look back at me. “You can read, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I can read and write.”

“I apologize. I have to ask, as we don’t fully know what kind of education someone from your time might’ve received.”

“Seems as though it’s something that would have been recorded,” I muttered.

“Most history caters to what the rich and successful did,” Peggy explained. “Much of British history, specifically, focuses on the plague and royal drama.”

I shook my head. “Ridiculous.”

“No argument here.” She folded her arms. “I’ll be back to get you for dinner, alright?”

I nodded and she left.

I only lived in that first apartment for about four months before I was moved to a room at the SSR headquarter in New York. There, I could be better monitored by the SSR. Living there meant that no one asked questions that they shouldn’t and I was able to learn and ask questions without someone looking at me like I’d grown a tail. Living there made it more convenient for them to run their tests. They weren’t nearly as invasive as I might have expected them to be, but they often left me exhausted and worn down. The day they realized that I could withstand the explosion from a grenade was particularly exciting for their team of scientists. I, however, went back to my room at the end of the day and collapsed into bed after picking and brushing the shrapnel from my hair.

Peggy visited me as often as she could in those first few months. As it stood, she wasn’t allowed out of her apartment after a certain time. I never really understood curfews for grown women during that time. I have a feeling it was set as a way to control the tenants. We went out on our weekly trips to the library. She would quiz me on things I’d learned on our walk to and from, our arms laden with books. She was the first real friend I’d made since childhood and I cherished every moment I got with her.

The science team got bored with testing my strength and durability nearly four months, and by then the SSR signed off on a select group of agents to begin training me in combat. I started off learning hand to hand combat but had to hold back in order to keep from hurting the trainers. Enough were scared of me that they moved on to using heavy bags and demonstrating throws and takedowns on football dummies. It was only when new agents were brought in that I actually got to put any of that training to use. Most gave up after two sessions with me if they were smart.

Three months into my training, Peggy was allowed to slowly incorporate casework, provided it wasn’t anything that required any kind of physical altercation. I think they saw me as a walking lawsuit at the time. When I stepped between Agent Thompson and an angry suspect with a shotgun, their opinion seemed to change. He and I had had little to do with one another before that, though Peggy had worked closely with both him and Agent Sousa. We became more familiar with one another after that incident.

“Y’know, I wondered what your deal was when we first found you,” Jack mused one day.

“Oh?”

“Well, yeah. Some mysterious woman gets found asleep in a coffin, Snow White style, of course a guy’s bound to be curious.”

“Have you figured out my deal yet, then?” I asked, resting my chin in my hand.

“You’re hard to read,” he said. “So, no.”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “Pitty, that.”

He snorted and shook his head, but I caught the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. We went back to our paperwork in silence. For some reason, it was easier to pick him out of the crowd during training for the next few weeks. I got suspicious of how often I saw him after an additional two weeks and began to notice money changing hands. It took a couple days before I realized that money only made an appearance when I fought a new agent. I let it go on for another week before I confronted him about it.

“Stop betting on the new agents, Thompson.”

He’d grinned. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick your ass,” I said.

“Didn’t think you knew how to talk like that,” he said. “I’m impressed, Carter.”

“You’d be surprised, the things that I know,” I smirked. “I’m a quick study.”

“Oh, I know. Midge says you’ve read through about half the public library by now.”

“You know she doesn’t like to be called Midge.” I shook my head and clipped up the heavy bag. “I don’t get why you treat her so poorly. If she were a man, she’d be your best friend.”

He shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I folded my arms and leaned against the wall to study him. “You’ve seen her in action. Hell, she’s half the reason you’re alive.”

“She is not.”

“Who do you think sent someone to check on you in California?” His eyes went wide. “Yes, I know you were shot in your hotel room.”

“I- That’s classified.”

“Which is why only Peggy and I know about it.”

“Why would you know?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Because I’m classified, Jack. No one’s supposed to know about me, so I have the pleasure of knowing about everyone else.”

“Impressive.”

“Quit deflecting.”

“Quit interrogating me,” he hissed.

“Ah, don’t like people getting close to your truth, do you?”

He growled and took a swing at me. I grabbed his fist, stopping him in his tracks, planted my foot in the middle of his chest, and kicked him away. He stumbled back, lost his balance, and fell to the mat. He groaned as he sat up and pressed one hand to the small of his back.

“Don’t throw a punch if you’re not ready for a fight,” I said. “Next time, I’m not going easy on you.”

“That was you going easy?”

“Did you know that I could crush your skull with one hand?” I crouched down in front of him and tilted my head to the side. “That I have lived longer than you could ever dream. That if you tried to shoot me, and your scientists have, if you tried to even cut or scratch me, nothing would happen? There would be no wound, no welt. Not even a mark. If you come at me again, a bruised tailbone will be the least of your worries.”

He leaned away, his eyes wide.  “What the fuck.”

I stood and offered him a hand up. He hesitated and I rolled my eyes. “Just let me help you up.”

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just take my hand already.”

He hesitated, but eventually let me help him up. He brushed off his pants as soon as he was on his feet again.

"You're kind of terrifying," he said.

"That's the point." I looked him over. "Were you here to train, or…?"

He looked startled by the question but didn’t back down. “I might’ve been.”

“Well don’t let little ole me stop you,” I said.

He shuffled around and lifted weights for about half an hour before giving up. He made a point to avoid the gym whenever I was there from then on out. I thought it was hilarious at the time.

About two months later, an SSR agent walked up to Peggy and I while we were talking.

“Time for the lunch orders, ladies,” he said. He held out a notepad and pen with a sly smile on his face. “The natives are getting restless.”

“Order your own lunches,” I said.

He grabbed Peggy’s hand and slapped the pad and pen into it. “Not my job, sweetheart. Just get lunch.”

Peggy’s jaw tightened and she moved to get up from her chair. I held up one hand to stop her and took the pen and paper with the other. I grabbed the agent’s hand and slapped the pad and pen into it, just as he’d done to Peggy.

“Look, sweetheart. I see you’ve got two working legs. You are more than capable of ordering your own damn lunch. That is, unless you have issues with the English language, but judging by your accent, you don’t, so perhaps you’re still struggling to learn the alphabet.” I tipped my head to the side. “So, unless you’ve got some other convenient issue that’s miraculously spread through the office, I suggest you get lost and get your own fucking lunch. Does that sound reasonable to you, Agent?”

His eyes went wide and he looked to Peggy for some kind of backup. He didn’t find any.

“Look, lady, it’s just how things are done around here! You can’t blame me for that shit!”

“Can’t I? Because I don’t see you doing anything to change it. The only person I’d expect to ask someone to get lunch for them is Sousa, and he’s the only one around here who seems to know how to do anything for himself.” I shoved him lightly, which sent him stumbling backward. “Start a new tradition. Get your own lunches. Stop bothering us.”

He nodded dumbly and ran off to tell his friends they had to fend for themselves that day.

“We’re going to get in trouble for that,” Peggy said, a smile tugging at her lips.

“No,” I said. “Jack’s too scared of me to do anything about it.”

She cocked one perfect eyebrow. “Oh really? What did you do to put the fear of God into poor Jack Thompson?”

“Threw him around a little in the gym and threatened him,” I shrugged. “The usual.”

She snorted to cover up her laughter. “Why am I not surprised?”

I grinned and braced myself on her desk. “Because you know me.”

"That's very true." She shook her finger at me. "You really shouldn't go around threatening people."

I laughed and waved her off. "Don't worry about who I'm threatening. He hasn't bothered you in weeks, so I'd say it was worth it."

"Asta, you didn't."

"I didn't do anything drastic. I just mentioned that I thought it was funny that he's so rude to you, but if you were a man he'd treat you like a war hero." I added, very pointedly, "Which you are, and he needs to recognize that."

"I didn't do anything."

"I'm pretty sure you're responsible for facilitating, possibly, the greatest uprising in SSR history. You're the reason Captain America was able to get into the fight. You were key in strategy meetings. You were there for every single little thing, and they still treat you like dirt. Useful, but only if you can give them what they need."

“I’m not saying that I disagree with you, but-”

“You do disagree with my methods, I know. I’m sure this is a conversation we’ll have many, many times in the future.”

“I’m not so sure I like the sound of that.”

I laughed. “Would you like to go out for lunch today? My treat.”

“Your treat?”

“Didn’t you hear? They started paying me while you were in California, flirting with Sousa.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” she said. She caved when I shot her a questioning look. “Fine, I wasn’t just flirting.”

“There it is.” I reached out and tugged on her hand. “Come on. You can ask Daniel to come along. I might even invite Jack.”

Peggy laughed. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Dunno. I think I mostly want to see what he’ll do. Regardless, I’m paying so you might as well just say yes.”

She sighed but smiled regardless. “Fine, I give.”

I grinned and watched Peggy haul herself up from her chair and cross the floor to Sousa’s office. She tentatively opened the door and poked her head inside. Daniel gestured for her to come in and she slipped into the office. I saw him nod and smile and he got up to follow her from the office. I folded my arms and pushed off the desk.

I shouldered open the door to Jack’s office and leaned in the doorway. He slowly looked up from his paperwork to meet my eyes.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey. Peg ‘n’ I are going out for lunch. You want to come with?”

“You sure you want me there?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

“Yeah, you’re not bad company, Jack. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Come on,” I said, pushing off the doorway. Jack stood up to grab his coat. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

He laughed and followed me out onto the floor. “And what am I getting out of this deal?”

“Free lunch.” He looked amused. “What?”

“On whose dime?”

“Mine? Who else’s?”

“Asta is an employee, Thompson,” Peggy said. “I thought you already knew that.”

“That’s not what I meant!” he said. “I just didn’t expect her to be paying, is all. I’m not saying that she couldn’t afford it.”

I placed my hand on his arm. “She’s messing with you, Jack.”

Daniel snorted and offered Peggy his arm. “Where to, ladies?”

Peggy suggested the diner and both men readily agreed. When we got there, Daniel sat next to Peggy and tucked her under his arm. Jack froze when he saw them but relaxed when I shook my head and picked up the menu.

Daniel, Jack, and Peggy made pleasant conversation while we ate and I sat quietly to listen. I occasionally offered my opinion if it was called for, but was otherwise silent.

I was nibbling absentmindedly at a french fry when Jack asked, “What’s your take on this, Carter?”

“Well…” Peggy began.

“Oh, sorry, I should've been specific. I meant Asta,” he said. He nudged me with his elbow. “We haven’t heard your take on the case.”

“You want my opinion?” I asked.

“Well, yeah.” He slung his arm up over the back of the booth, right above my shoulders. “We know what we think, but a different point of view is important.”

I looked at Peggy and found my amusement reflected on her face. I finished the fry before answering. “Huh, okay.”

I reached for another fry and Jack said, “Are you gonna tell us or what?”

“No, I’m gonna make you wait,” I shot back. I bit down on the fry and Daniel burst out laughing. I looked up at Jack and found him red in the face. The wink I gave him didn’t help much with his predicament.

“I’m serious! We’ve pretty much exhausted our ideas here.”

“I know, give me a moment to think.” I sat back and pressed my fist to my mouth. “There was one woman you spoke to who didn’t quite sit right with me.”

“A suspect?” Daniel asked.

I shook my head. “No, I think it was someone’s wife or sister. She just knew too much about what happened in that lab. Showed no signs of grief at all.”

“Not all people grieve the same.”

“I am well aware of how people grieve. This was different. She was, I don’t know… almost smug? Like she’d gotten away with something and was trying not to gloat about it. I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d want to go over your own theories first.”

“No, that helps,” Jack said. “A lot, actually.”

“Don’t sound too surprised there, Thompson,” I said.

“I’m not surprised. I’m sorry we didn’t ask for your help sooner.”

I tried to hide my smile, but I caught Jack smiling out of the corner of my eye. I kept quiet the rest of lunch, content to listen to the casual conversation.

On the walk back to the office, I hung back to people watch. Eventually, my eyes were drawn to Peggy and Daniel. I remember when she’d come back from California and the first thing she told me about was the development between the two of them. I sat with her while she talked about everything that happened, only half listening at the time, but happy for her regardless. From what she’d told me of her life before coming back to New York, she deserved happiness.

“What’re you thinking about?” Jack asked.

I jumped, not realizing he’d been pacing me for five minutes. I pressed my hand to my chest and wheezed out, “Holy shit.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s alright. Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “Your shoulders were kinda hunched and you had this far off look in your eyes. I figured it had to be something pretty serious.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“It’s nothing,” I said. “I was thinking about when Peggy came back from California. She was happier than I’d ever seen her.”

“And now?”

“She’s still just as happy. Whatever this thing is with Daniel is lasting. I'm happy for her.”

“Huh,” he said. “I thought you would’ve been thinking about your own life. Or past life, or something.”

I laughed. “No. My life wasn’t all that interesting before I got here. Nothing worth dwelling on.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

“It is, though. There’s so much that I escaped in my past. The stress of an arranged marriage or how I’d take care of myself if no one wanted me. Now I have a job and friends and…” I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “Sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, that was a lot.”

“No,” He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for telling me.”

“Thanks for listening.”

He offered me his arm and I snorted before placing my hand in the crook of his elbow. I caught him smiling and felt myself blush. We walked on in silence for about five more minutes before Jack asks another question.

“Why did you invite me out today?”

I shrugged. “I don’t like being a third wheel.”

“Seriously?”

“Also kind of wanted to see what you’d do.”

“So I’m an experiment.”

“A little.”

“Wow.”

“I don’t mean to insult you. It’s just hard to tell where I stand with you.”

“Explain.”

“Well, Peggy and I are pretty much sisters and has made that abundantly clear, and Daniel thinks I’m odd but puts up with me because of Peggy. The rest of the men in the office act like I don’t exist until lunch rolls around and they’re too lazy to go out and get their own or they don’t want to do their jobs.”

“And me?”

“I can tell you’re curious about me, but I never know what you’re going to do. I avoided you at first, and you sought me out in the gym. I threatened you and you still went out to lunch when I invited you. Now, you’ve got me on your arm and we’ve talked more than I have with the majority of people I know.” I frowned. “I guess I find you interesting. I want to understand you.”

He hummed. “Alright, that's fair.”

“I wasn’t trying to ask you on a date earlier,” I added. “I know that worried you.”

“What?”

“You froze up when Sousa put his arm around Peggy earlier.”

“Right, that.” He shook his head. “I just don’t like being ambushed with it, is all.”

“Hm?”

“I’m not used to being asked out.”

“You’re usually the one who asks.”

“Exactly. But, if someone did ask me out on a date, I’d want to know what their intentions are.”

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you saying that you want me to ask you on a date?”

Jack looked around before pulling me under the overhang of a corner store. I glanced at where his hands held my arms before looking up at him, confused. Carefully, I held his elbows and tilted my head to the side, silently asking him to talk to me. His brows pulled together and he frowned.

"I don't get you," he said.

"That doesn't answer my question."

Someone had stopped to stare at us, and I suspect they were worried for my safety. Jack seemed to pick up on this and turned us so that he had his back to the wall instead of me. He sighed and let go of my arms.

He began to step away. "They're gonna wonder where we are."

I grabbed his hands and pulled him back to me. "No, Jack. Tell me."

"Asta-"

"Please? I won't bother you anymore after this, I promise." I gave him a small smile. "We both know how quiet I can be. It'll be like I'm not even in the office."

I immediately let go of his hands and folded my arms tight against my body. I could feel myself trying to make myself smaller and hated it. Jack put his hands on my shoulders and straightened them out. He then trailed his hand down my arm and took my hand.

"I'm not an easy person," he said softly. "I'm not good with feelings or anything like that, and that's probably my fault. But everything new I learn about you makes me want to know more. I want to understand you and where you came from and what made you who you are. I want to know if you knew Shakespeare or if you made art in your past. I don't know if I want you to ask me on a date. I just know that I want to know you."

"I can tell you right now that I didn't know Shakespeare," I said. "I knew of him and saw a couple of his plays, but I didn't know him."

"See?" He shook his head. "I want to be around you. I just don't want to force more than that."

I nodded. "Thank you for telling me."

"Of course."

"Can I have a couple days to think about what you've said?" I asked. "I need some time."

“Yeah, sure.”

"I'm not good with words." I gently squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s hard to be upset when you keep asking so nicely.”

“Okay.”

He moved my hand to his elbow again and led me back out onto the sidewalk. Peggy and Daniel had beaten us back to the office by ten minutes when we stepped through the doors. Jack excused himself and went back to his office. Peggy pulled me aside as soon as I was alone.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re late getting back. What happened?”

“Oh. Thompson wanted to ask me a couple more questions. That’s all.”

“That’s odd.”

I shrugged. “I’m an odd person. People tend to want to ask questions. You certainly did, at first.”

Someone in a lab coat wandered out into the office, looking lost. I looked past Peggy and caught his eye. He immediately relaxed and crossed the floor to talk to us.

“We need your help in the lab,” he said.

“Why?” I asked. “I thought you were done with me.”

"Well…" He scratched the back of his neck.

Realizing that going with him would get me away from Peggy's questions, I held up my hand to stop him. "You know what? It doesn't matter, let's just get it over with."

I apologized to Peggy and left with the lab coat.

The tests took nearly a week and didn't leave me any time to work in the office, let alone think. Each night, I was allowed two hours to train in the gym before I had to return to my quarters. I was frustrated, to say the least.

The day we finished the tests I spent more time than usual in the gym, working out my frustrations on a punching bag. I had knocked it off the hook three times before I had to sit down and patch it up.

“Thought I might find you down here.”

I let out a startled squeak and looked over my shoulder. Jack stood ten feet away from me with his hands in his pockets. His hair was a mess and something in me wanted to fix it.

“Hi,” I said dumbly. I couldn’t figure out anything else to say.

“I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“I’ve been stuck in the lab,” I tried to explain. “By the time I can get away you’re already gone for the night.”

“Okay.”

I ignored the punching bag and spun around to face him. “I did want to talk to you earlier. I’m sure I could’ve made some time. I apologize.”

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you standing so far away from me?”

“Because the last time I was with you in this room you put me on my ass.”

“So you’re scared of me?” I pushed myself to my feet. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“I think I’d be scared of you regardless.”

“You want a rematch?” I asked.

“Are you messing with me?”

”I don’t joke about fighting.”

“Why do you want to fight me? I can’t seriously be a challenge for you.”

“It’s not about you being a challenge. It’s about the fact that you’re scared of me.” I locked eyes with him. “And I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“So you’re trying to make me face my fears?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“What the hell kind of relationship could the two of us have if you’re too scared to get close to me when we’re alone?” I snapped. “So either you spar with me and we can move forward, or I’m going to bed and putting this behind me.”

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“Why not? You can’t physically hurt me.” I folded my arms and took several steps closer to him. “We’ll lay ground rules. No body throws and anything that could be considered a blow to the genitals to either of us is off the table. We go till one of us is on the mat. Sound reasonable to you?”

He squinted. “Fine.”

“Wonderful!” I stepped back and grabbed the heavy bag and moved it to the corner with the others.

Jack shed his suit coat and tie before turning to face me. He approached me as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. I wandered over and stopped in front of him to size him up. I tilted my head to the side and looked him over with my hands in my pockets. I nodded and took a step back to look him in the eye.

Jack readily got into his fighting stance with his fists held up to guard his face. I blinked at him and waited for him to make the first move. It took him nearly two minutes to make up his mind and actually throw a punch. I moved my head to the side to avoid it. Confused, Jack took several more swings, only for me to dodge all of them.

“I thought we were supposed to fight,” he growled.

“We are,” I said. “I fight differently.”

He tried to grab me, but I easily sidestepped and slapped his hands down. He hissed in pain and I muttered a quick apology before settling into the fight again.

I blocked each punch and kick he threw at me, quickly slapping them away or simply catching the blows with my forearms before pushing him back. He didn’t seem to understand what I was doing and just kept trying to come at me harder than he had before. Eventually, I had both his fists held in my hands, crossed at his wrists. I pulled them in opposite directions and Jack cried out in pain and surprise.

I leaned in and said, “See, if you weren’t you, I’d headbutt you right now. But I don’t actually want to hurt you, so I’m not gonna do that.”

“Should I be thanking you?”

“That depends,” I placed my foot in his stomach and pushed him away. He stumbled but managed to regain his balance. “Are you going to give me an actual fight, or are you just gonna keep fucking around till I get bored?”

That annoyed him enough that he finally started coming at me with some decent force. He was faster than he initially let on and, consequently, suddenly more of a challenge. I only narrowly dodged a blow to my stomach before he managed to catch me with a punch to the jaw. I staggered back, more surprised by the blow than anything else. Jack didn’t seem to recognize that, though, and followed after me to make sure I was alright.

When I saw the concern on his face, I laughed and pushed him away with a hand to his chest. He tried to use his proximity to his advantage, but only wound up winded when I punched him in the stomach. He wheezed as he tried to regain his footing and kept his distance until he could find another opening. We were lazily circling each other when he saw his opportunity.

He rushed me and ducked in time to just barely avoid my fist. He grabbed my wrists and hooked his heel around mine and kicked back. I fell to the mat with him hovering over me, pinning my arms down. I looked up at him, eyes wide. Jack panted as he tried to catch his breath.

“I win,” he declared.

“Do you?”

"You said we'd go till one of us was on the mat. I took you down. I win."

I laughed. "I guess."

"What do you mean you guess?" he said. He didn't sound angry and the smile playing at his lips betrayed him. "I have you pinned!"

"You won the match, but my plan worked perfectly." I hooked my legs around his and flipped us. I grinned at the look of shock on his face. "You weren't even thinking. You just went for it. And look at how close we are."

"Oh," he said, his voice suddenly small.

"Are you scared?" I asked. "Scared of me?"

"Not of you."

"Then what?"

"I'm scared of this. How close we are."

"Why?" I sat up slightly and Jack moved with me. My heart hammered in my chest.

"Because I think I'd really like to kiss you right now, and I don't want to push you for something you don't want." I sat back in his lap and he propped himself up on his hands. He smiled sadly.  “Please say something.”

“I don’t- I’m not good with words.”

He nodded. “I know. You told me.”

“Can I just…” I slowly reached out and placed my hands on his shoulders. His eyes locked on mine and he nodded.

I carefully traced my fingers over his shoulders and up his neck. I framed the line of his jaw with the tips of my fingers and paused for a moment. I allowed my eyes to scan over his face, mapping out the angles of his cheekbones and the curve of his nose. My eyes were drawn up to his hair as I remembered what a mess it was when he first walked in. I bit my lip to hide my smile as I reached up to comb my fingers through and relished the feeling of his hair between my fingers.

I trailed my fingers down the back of his neck and his eyes fluttered shut when I traced over his cheekbone. He leaned into my touch when I cradled his face in my hands. I then lightly brushed my thumbs over his lips, which sent a shiver through Jack’s body.

Jack slowly opened his eyes. His gaze lingered on my lips for a moment before he managed to meet my eyes.

“Can I kiss you, Jack?” I whispered.

“Yes,” he breathed.

I smiled and tentatively brushed my lips against his. He let out a shaky breath against my lips and tilted his head to gently press his lips to mine. He waited for me to kiss him back before he moved one of his hands to the back of my head and weaved his fingers into my hair. I felt more than heard myself make a small, needy noise at the back of my throat and pulled away. I covered my mouth with my hand out of embarrassment.

"What?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know what that was."

“Hmm?”

“That noise.” I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“Look at me.” I shook my head and he laughed. He gently coaxed my hands away from my face. “Come on, look at me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and met his eyes. He looped my arms around his neck and settled his hands on my waist. I frowned and tilted my head to the side.

“What is it?” I asked, voice small.

“I don’t get how you can go from being so confident to a blushing mess.” I rolled my eyes but immediately looked him in the eye when his grip on my waist tightened. "The sound you made isn't embarrassing. It's cute."

"No, it's not…"

"Yes it is," he insisted. "I like it. I like knowing that I have an effect on you. Y'know, other than pissing you off and annoying you."

“You don’t… you don’t piss me off.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t. I just- I get frustrated, and I want to understand. I want to understand you, but learning people isn’t like reading books. It’s not easy.” I fiddled with the hair at the back of his neck. “But I don’t want this to be easy. If you want there to be a this.”

“I do want that.” He drew gentle circles on my sides with his thumbs. “But I don’t want to frustrate you.”

“I think that’s part of relationships, Jack. If we do this, I’m going to be annoying, you’re going to frustrate me. We’re going to have disagreements. But we’ll learn together. Grow through experiences and be better people. I think that’s worth a little frustration, don’t you?”

“I do.” He smiled. “I don’t know why you keep saying you’re bad with words. You expressed yourself pretty perfectly just then.”

“I don’t know about that. I just spoke the truth.”

“Do you want to do this?” he asked. “Us.”

I nodded. “Yes. You’re a challenge I’m ready for, Jack Thompson.”

He grinned and pressed his forehead to mine. I tilted my head to the side slightly and kissed him tenderly, which he returned before pulling away and wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been held like that, so I pressed my nose to his neck and clung to him.

“I should probably go to my room,” I mumbled. “I was supposed to leave the gym an hour ago.”

“They gave you a curfew?”

“Kind of, yeah.” I braced myself on his shoulders and got to my feet. “I really should go. They’ll send someone from the night shift around to check on everything.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You afraid to get caught?”

“No,” I offered him a hand up and he took it. “The tongue lashing I’ll get if I’m caught is annoying. If I can avoid it, I will.”

“Let me walk you back then,” he said. “You can’t get in trouble if I’m the one who made you late.”

I laughed. "Okay, I'll take you up on that."

He opened the door for me and offered his arm when he stepped out into the hall after me. I stuck close to his side the entire walk back to my rooms. We were fortunate enough to avoid running into anyone along the way. I stepped out in front of him when we reached my door and keyed in the passcode to unlock the door.

“No keys?” he asked.

I shook my head and pushed the door open. “You can lose keys. Even if you lose your fingers, you can still figure out something to punch a code in.”

“Kinda dark.”

I snorted. “Do you expect anything less from me?”

“Y’know, I probably shouldn’t. But I always manage to underestimate you.”

I turned to face him and leaned in the doorway. “Something I’m sure you’ll continue to do.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure it is.”

I stood in my doorway, staring and smiling at him for a moment before realizing what I was doing. I shook my head and tried to make my escape. "I guess this is goodnight, then."

"Wait," he reached out to me and I stopped. He took my hand and stepped closer.

"Hmm?"

He stooped down to kiss me. "Okay, now I can say goodnight."

I laughed and bit back my smile. "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow, Jack."

"See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Asta."

He kissed my forehead and backed down the hall. Before he turned the corner he did a little twirl and waved to me. I heard him whistling as he walked away and I smiled and shook my head as I closed myself in my rooms.

I sat on my bed and buried my face in my pillow to muffle the sound of my giddy squeals. My legs flailed in little butterfly kicks of nervous excitement. I couldn't figure out how to express exactly how I was feeling in the moment, but wrote what I could down in my journal. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face, even in my sleep.

The next morning wasn’t nearly as happy as the night before.

I was whisked away by a pair of lab coats just before I could sit down for the morning briefing. They rattled off something about inconsistencies in their tests from earlier in the week. They fussed over me for nearly four hours before I was able to get away. At that point, I was exhausted and nauseous, and wanted nothing more than to just sit down so that the room would stop spinning.

When I reached my desk, Peggy wasn’t there. The file and notes on her desk told me that she was probably in an interrogation, or something close to it. I quickly realized that I needed to be somewhere out of the way if I didn’t want to be pestered about a case I knew nothing about, or worse, hauled off to the lab again.

My eyes landed on Jack’s office, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen him yet that day. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before crossing the floor and knocking on the door. I didn’t receive an answer and decided to knock more before letting myself in.

The desk lamp was on, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

I didn’t give his absence much thought as a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I nearly fell, but braced myself on the arm of the couch and waited for it to pass. When it did, my vision was blurry and I immediately laid on the couch. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a tight ball.

I faded in and out of sleep for nearly two hours.

A gentle hand on my forehead woke me. I leaned into their touch and they pushed my hair off my forehead. I could vaguely hear them saying my name.

“Asta?” I cracked my eyes open. “Hey, there you are.”

“Jack?” My voice sounded rough and I hugged my arms around myself.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look a little grey.”

“I don’t know.” I shivered and moved closer to Jack. “I don’t feel well.”

“You weren’t feeling like this last night, were you?”

“No, I was fine. I was fine this morning too.”

“When did this start?”

“Around noon, I think. It was a little more than an hour before I left the lab.”

“I thought they were done with their tests.”

“So did I, but they said something about inconsistencies and dragged me off before I had time to process what was happening.”

He frowns. “Can you sit up?”

“I don’t know. I was really dizzy earlier.” I covered my face with one hand. “It’s why I came in here. I didn’t think I could make it back to my room.”

“Let’s get you sat up,” he said.

He helped me sit up, though I leaned heavily against the arm of the couch. I pressed my hand to my forehead as the dizziness settled in again. I tamped down the urge to dry-heave and settled with focusing on keeping my breaths deep and even. When everything got to be a little too much, I let my head fall back against the back of the couch and covered my eyes with one arm.

“This is hell,” I muttered.

Jack squeezed my hand. “I’m getting Peggy. I’ll be right back.”

I let out a shaky breath when he let go of my hand and wrapped my free arm around my stomach. I kept quiet when Jack returned with Peggy. 

“Asta,” Peggy placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Jack tells me you’re not feeling well.”

“She’s been stuck in the lab for over a week,” Jack added. “She was fine until they started calling her in for whatever tests they forgot.”

“You suspect someone in the lab has something to do with this?” Peggy asked.

“I’m not pointing fingers. I’m just saying that she was fine last night, and now she’s not.”

“Do you think he could be right, darling?” she asked.

“I don’t know if I’d, ugh-” I cut myself off to bear out a dizzy spell. “I don’t know if I’d rule it out. They took me by surprise this morning when they grabbed me. I wasn’t able to ask many questions.”

“Help her up, Jack,” Peggy said. “We’re going to the lab.”

He did as he was told and I leaned heavily against him as he helped me down the hall.

“Think you can make it?” he asked.

I nodded and he kissed the top of my head when Peggy wasn’t looking. I stumbled when we were about halfway to the lab and Jack stopped to sweep me into his arms and carry me bridal style the rest of the way. I tucked my face into his neck and focused on the sound of his breathing to distract myself from the nausea. I stopped paying close attention after that.

A man greeted us upon arrival, saying, “Agent Carter, Agent Thompson. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Pleasant surprise, my ass,” Jack muttered. “You have some explaining to do.”

“Excuse me?” The man sounded offended.

“Exactly what tests have you been performing with Asta over the past week?” Peggy asked. “Because I am certain it wasn’t anything sanctioned by the agency.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Ms. Carter is simply a point of interest for us.”

“In what world would tests for a point of interest leave your subject so nauseated and dizzy that they can hardly keep on their feet?” Peggy demanded.

“I’m sure she’s fine, if not a bit dramatic,” he said. “She left of her own volition not two hours ago.”

“Oh, really? Then I’m sure I can just set her down right here, and she’ll be fine,” Jack said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m sure she would be.”

I clutched at Jack’s suit coat when I felt even a slight shift in his body. “Don’t, please.”

“Can I set you on the table?” he asked, his voice soft enough that only I could hear.

I nodded and he carefully set me on the cool, metal table along the wall of the lab. He stayed close enough that I could’ve reached out and taken his hand.

“See? She’s fine.” The man stepped closer. “Aren’t you, Ms. Carter?”

“What did you do to me?” I asked.

“What?” He stepped even closer. He didn’t realize his mistake. “Speak up, Ms. Carter.”

I reached out and wrapped my hand around his throat, too quickly for him to react. Peggy tried to step in, but Jack held a hand out to stop her. I wasn’t choking him. Just holding him tight enough to scare him a little. Tight enough to keep him from getting away.

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Me,” I ground out. “You and your little minions have kept me locked up here for a week, not telling me exactly what you were doing or why you’ve been poking around.”

“I’m sure-”

I tightened my grip and he whimpered. “Oh, you’re always so sure of yourself, but I don’t have that kind of faith in you. You’re going to tell me what the fuck it is you’ve been doing, or I swear I will crush your neck and watch the life leave your eyes.”

I released him and pushed him away from me. I heard Jack mutter a quick “Holy shit,” before rushing to my side when I started to curl into myself. He helped me sit back against the wall and kept one hand on my knee in case I needed his support.

“Just what have you been doing in this lab?” Peggy repeated. “Even if Asta can’t follow through on her promise, I’d be glad to take a stab at it.”

He looked past Peggy to Jack for some kind of support, but Jack just shook his head.

“We discovered that the structure of her DNA is similar to Steve Rogers’ after the Vita-Ray procedure,” the man began. “We took half the week to test her reflexes and ensure that she was fit enough before-”

“Before what,” Jack hissed.

“Before we began testing our new super-soldier serum.” He seemed to realize that what he’d said wasn’t positive and scrambled to fix that. “We haven’t finished the procedure, yet! There’s no way to be sure that whatever is happening to her is caused by the serum.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Peggy shoved the man hard enough that he fell to the floor. “How dare you even think about trying to recreate the serum! We do not play God in the SSR. And we certainly don’t test… shit on people without their consent!”

“We didn’t know what would happen!”

“I should kill you myself,” Peggy hissed. “Pumping my sister full of poison. You are scum.”

I took Jack's hand and quickly told him to stop Peggy before she actually did murder the man. Jack stepped between them just as one of the lab technicians walked in.

"What's going on?" she asked. She caught sight of me hunched over and her eyes went wide. "Is she okay?"

Jack filled her in on the situation while I did my best to calm Peggy, who was completely seething mad. The technician seemed genuinely horrified.

"I don't think any of us thought he'd go through with it. I mean, he'd talked about it after the initial DNA examination, but no one seemed interested enough in pushing it, so no one presented it to the higher-ups." She shook her head. "I guess a few people were interested enough to start testing."

"Will she be alright?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. I'd have to see what the serum was made with in order to determine that."

Peggy seemed to perk up at that and I held her hand tightly and looked from Jack to the scientist on the floor. He seemed to get the idea and started asking him questions before Peggy could make a move. They found a vial of the serum within five minutes.

The technician examined a slide of the serum under the microscope and scribbled notes every time she looked away. I didn't keep a close eye on what she was doing and, instead, opted to rest my head on Jack's shoulder. Peggy held onto my hand even after I loosened my grip.

The technician fussed over the sample for about twenty minutes before making her decision.

"She'll be fine," she announced. "There isn't anything that's immediately toxic in the serum. If I'm being honest, I don't think it's much of a serum at all, but it's definitely enough to cause nausea and dizziness, like Asta is experiencing."

"How long till she's back to normal?" Peggy asks.

The lab tech shrugged. "I'm not sure. Considering the number of doses, I'd say give it a few days and see how she's feeling then."

"So… you're essentially saying she needs to sleep it off?" Jack asked.

"Precisely. Though I would suggest that someone stay with her, or at least frequently check on her. It's easy for someone to get dehydrated in her state."

“At least I’m not going to die,” I mumbled.

Jack laughed and softly said, “I’ll stay with you, if you’d like.”

I turned my head to hide my smile against his arm. “I’d like that, yeah.”

Sousa was called in to help Peggy detain and process the man who had, essentially, poisoned me. Peggy hung back, worrying about leaving me behind and I waved her off, saying that she should go help Daniel.

“I’ll make sure she gets back to her room alright,” Jack said. She didn’t seem convinced and he added, “I’m going to stay with her. She’s not going anywhere for the rest of the day.”

“Alright.” She caressed my cheek and I smiled. “I’ll come to check on you later.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Just make sure he gets what he deserves.”

She nodded and watched Jack help me off the table. I had hoped I would be able to make it without him having to carry me, but my legs gave out almost as soon as we made it through the doors. I hid my face against his chest after he picked me up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I hate that you have to do this.”

“You just don’t like feeling helpless,” he said.

I corrected him, saying, “I don’t like being a burden.”

“I get that, but I’d much rather carry you to your room than have you dying in my arms.”

“Aw, two days, and you’re already so attached.” I laughed. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, definitely,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s just gonna get worse from here.”

I hummed softly and settled against his chest. "I look forward to it."

Once inside my room, Jack helped me gather comfortable clothes and waited outside the bathroom while I changed. I took my hair down and allowed the curls to just hang around my shoulders. When I was done, he helped me hobble to my bed and situate myself before he took his jacket and shoes off. He sat beside me on the bed and kicked his feet up. As soon as he finished loosening his tie I curled into his side, seeking out the warmth of his body.

“If you’re gonna be on the bed, you might as well lie down,” I said.

“You want me to?”

I nodded. “You keep me calm.”

He scooted down the bed and turned on his side. I shuffled closer and pressed my nose to his chest. With one hand held against my stomach, I rested the other on his hip. I sighed softly, content.

“Now who’s the clingy one?”

I smiled and slung my arm over his waist and mumbled, “Still you.”

He snorted. “I walked right into that, didn't I.”

"You did."

"If you're gonna be mean, then maybe I’ll just leave."

"Aw, you don't mean that." I tipped my head up to look at him. He tried to scowl at me and failed. "If you did, you wouldn't be here. Peggy would, and she'd be sitting in that chair over there."

"I know. You're right." He tucked my hair behind my ear. "Just try to rest. I don't need you dying on me."

I nodded and he leaned in to kiss me softly. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead before I snuggled into his chest and allowed myself to drift off.

I woke to a hissing sound several hours later. It took a minute for the sound to register as someone shushing someone else.

“What are you doing in her bed?!” Peggy demanded.

“She is asleep,” Jack hissed back. “Lower your voice.”

“I can see that she’s asleep. Why are you in bed with her?” She sounded upset. “When you said you’d stay with her this certainly isn’t what I pictured.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Then why.”

“She asked me to.”

She scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”

“I’d say you could ask her, but she’s asleep.”

“Not anymore,” I mumbled.

Jack let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed my back. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I should probably get up and try to eat something anyway.” I sat slowly up and combed my fingers through my hair. “If you’re going to ask, Peggy, just ask. I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

She frowned. “You asked him to stay with you?”

“I did.” I glance at Jack and he smiles. ��You have nothing to worry about. He’s taking good care of me. I promise.”

“I just… did I miss something?” she asked. “Have I been ignoring things that are happening in your life?”

“No, you haven’t. This is just something that’s very…” I pressed my hand to my mouth as I searched for the right word. “It’s very personal, and I need to keep it close to my chest for now. I’m not hiding anything from you, I just don’t get many things that are just for me.”

“I understand.” She smiled and reached out for my hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course.”

“If you hurt her, Jack, I will murder you.”

Jack shook his head and got up from the bed. “I was really hoping I could avoid the threats until we were further down the line, but thanks for the warning!”

He asked me what I’d like to eat and I asked for some Saltines and water. I didn’t think I could keep anything else down. Peggy almost made for the door, but Jack stopped her and said he’d go out and get some food. He asked if there was anything she wanted while he put his shoes on. When she said no he kissed the top of my head and left for the store. Peggy watched him leave before looking back at me, a mix of shock and confusion on her face.

“What?”

“The two of you seem quite comfortable with each other,” she said. She sat beside me on the bed. “I know you said you’d tell me, but I can’t help feeling as if I missed something.”

“You didn’t, I swear.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You can’t miss something that you weren’t there for.”

“How did it happen?”

I shook my head and scrubbed my hands over my face. “I’m not entirely sure. We’ve bothered each other since I started training, so that had to have been almost a year ago now. Then there was the time I scared the life out of him in the gym, and then last week we started talking after lunch. I think that was the start of anything mutual?”

“Is that why you were late getting back?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“You could’ve just told me. I wouldn’t have judged you.”

“It’s not that I was worried about that. Like I said, I don’t have many things that are just for me. I wanted to give myself time to feel like I live a normal life.” I pulled my knees to my chest and sighed. “I know that my life will never be normal, and I’m fine with that, but the more time that I’m allowed to work on cases and go out into the city without a chaperone, I feel like I’m taking some normalcy back.”

She took my hand and squeezed gently. “I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Asta. I don’t want to control you or your life, and I’d hate for you to feel that I was doing so.”

"I know you don't, but it feels like the SSR controls almost every facet of my life. It gets frustrating. I wish I had more time for myself." The door opened, but I didn't notice. "I want to learn to paint and go dancing and spend time with Jack. I don't want to feel like a prisoner."

"You want to paint?" Peggy asked.

"I have since I was little. My family was poor, so I never had the money or opportunity, not to mention the fact that I'm a woman. Everything worked against me then. Now I have the money and I have a little extra time." I pressed my nose to my knees. "I know that sounds stupid."

Someone new said, "No, Asta, it doesn't."

I blinked, confused by the new voice, and looked up to see Jack standing beside the bed. "Hey," I said.

"Hey." He held out a sleeve of crackers and a glass of water.

"Thank you." I smiled and took them from him. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't want to interrupt your conversation," he said.

“How considerate of you.” Peggy squeezed my knee and pushed herself up from the bed. “I have to get back to work. I’ll check in tomorrow and see how you’re doing.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then,” I said.

I watched her leave before setting the glass of water on the bedside table and opening the sleeve of crackers. Jack returned to his place on the bed and I let my head fall to his shoulder as I nibbled on one cracker. I think I ate nearly half the sleeve before I felt I could drink anything, and quickly downed the entire glass of water when I tried. I was exhausted by the end and settled back against Jack once I’d placed the empty glass on the table.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes. Thank you. For all of this, really.”

“It’s not a problem, Asta, really.”

“I just don’t want to become your problem,” I mumbled. “I’ve caused a lot of worry for you over the past week. I don’t want that to be where we start.”

“An agent would’ve been assigned to monitor you, regardless. I’d rather it be me than someone else.” I frowned and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “You’re not a burden, Asta. I’m worried about you because I care for you. There’s no start or end involved there. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. Is that okay with you?”

I nodded. "It's alright with me."

"Good."

I nodded against his shoulder again and cuddled into his side as my eyes grew heavy. Jack helped me lay down again without saying anything and held my hand as I drifted off.

"I probably won't be here when you wake up again," he said. " I've gotta get some work done in the office and then get home for the night."

"Okay."

"I'll be back tomorrow to check on you. If Carter doesn't get to you first, that is."

"You can still come if you want," I mumble. "I like spending time with you."

I felt him chuckle against my hair. "I'm glad you do."

I hummed and pressed my nose to his chest. "Goodnight, Jack."

"G'night, sweetheart."

--------

Part 2

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[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 2

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

 Penny Parker worked, on average, 108 hours a week between three jobs to make ends meet for herself and Peter. His high school, a stupidly expensive private science academy, sucked the majority of her income up each month despite a scholarship. Rent was $1,200 a month, not including utilities. Peter ate like a quintessential teenage boy, which meant a pound of cereal every morning before school and the equivalent in the evenings when he got home from his clubs.

She didn’t sleep much and only had one rotating day off each week. After learning of Peter’s situation with Tony Stark, she slept even less and spent her days off doing any and all research she could into the man and her options for getting Peter away from him. By the time a month had passed since the revelation that her baby brother was being stalked by a super powerful, criminal mastermind pedophile piece of shit, Penny was a wreck of a human being. Even Peter, who was understandably wrapped up in his own head most of the month, had noticed the bags under his sister’s eyes and the harried look she carried about her at all times.

They joked that Penny had taken every bit of chaos from her parents combined genes, somehow managing to leave behind every ounce of intelligence for Peter. She was a walking, talking disaster on the best of days. He’d seen her stick a fork in a toaster, try to mix bleach and vinegar, hell one time she’d come home from work with a sprained wrist because she’d fallen off a ladder stocking some shelves despite the fact someone had been actively holding the ladder to spot her. But this was an entirely new level of disarray from his sister.

Peter could tell that she wasn’t coming up with any solutions that she was happy with. Despite their inside jokes, Penny had a weird sort of intuitive intelligence. She couldn’t do basic math in her head and forget anything to do with science, hell basic reading comprehension could be a trial at times.

What she knew was that Tony Stark had every police department in New York on his payroll, despite the act they put on that “they were doing everything in their power” to gather evidence on the 87 open investigations into him and his company. She knew that he had several politicians under the same thumb, not because it was public knowledge, but because somehow every bill that was put to vote that could be useful to Tony Stark passed into law (or however that sort of thing worked—Penny didn’t understand bills and laws and the senate or whatever, but who really did?).

She knew that the surrounding states were similarly within his range of power. That his companies’ holdings in California meant he had too much control there too. He had holdings in Alaska, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico as well. It wasn’t public knowledge, but Penny could read between the lines when things seemed too good to be true. Or, too good to be true for one Tony Stark. Everything aligned in a way that was so suspicious, she couldn’t figure out why the FBI or CIA or NSA weren’t on to him too.

In the end, all it meant was that nothing Penny did would really matter in the long run. Tony Stark was infinitely powerful in a multitude of states, rich and influential in a way that one person shouldn’t ever have the ability to be. And Penny Parker had $3,000 to her name and a shitty apartment and an even shittier car. Compared to Tony Stark, she wasn’t even good enough to be dirt.

It meant that she had to be more creative. Penny wasn’t smart, but thinking outside of the usually accepted parameters was kind of her specialty. There was no good way to get Peter away from Tony’s sphere of influence, but there were some ways. Maybe just a single way. A very unpleasant, single way that would rip her heart to shreds. But Penny had decided as a 13 year old that she would do everything she could to keep Peter safe and happy and fuck if she was willing to stop now.

***

“Are you still stalking the webcam feed?” Tony wondered if it was possible to push anymore exasperation into his voice as he walked into the main living room only to find Clint once again watching Peter’s empty apartment on the massive TV.

“Something might happen,” it was the same defense the assassin always used when caught in the act, but Tony knew that the blond actually just wanted to catch a glimpse of Penelope Parker.

In all fairness, even Tony could admit that the young woman was rather beautiful. Where Peter’s skin was milky white and freckled, Penelope had a tan that betrayed her father’s Israeli heritage. She was shorter than Peter, held more weight than her lanky but growing brother. Her hair was long and held a natural wave, the same colour as Peter’s. They had the same eye colour as well, but Penelope’s were more narrow and slanted. It wasn’t Tony’s cup of tea, but he could objectively understand the appeal.

In all honestly, Penelope Parker wasn’t his cup of tea as a person. Every time her name popped into his head, he felt a seething rage begin to build in his chest. Penelope fucking Parker, responsible enough to be deemed guardian of the most precious boy in New York but not responsible enough to actually take care of him.

Back when he thought Peter lived alone off his meager inheritance, the living situation had bothered Tony but not enraged him. After all, sure a teenage boy would be fine living in a shit hole if it fit his budget. But no, his sister was the one who made him live in that rat’s nest. His sister, who worked so often it left poor Peter neglected and alone, was the reason he had to walk through dangerous streets to get home at night. His sister.

His fucking sister.

No wonder Peter hadn’t told him he had a sister. She was probably a fucking monster, as selfish and miserable as the goddamn evil stepsister from Cinderella.

He’d caught enough glimpses of Penelope Goddamn Parker in the last month to last him a life time. She and Peter hardly interacted where the webcam could pick up, although sometimes they caught snippets of audio. Mostly, they witnessed just how addicted to the internet she was. She spent more time on her fucking laptop than she did talking to her own brother.

It drove Tony insane, knowing that the longer he left Peter in her care, the more neglected he would be. His baby boy was trapped in an apartment with an uncaring bitch who spent 90% of her time working and the other 10% ignoring him for whatever bullshit Instagram, Facebook nonsense she was so obsessed with. Tony didn’t even bother keeping a record of her internet history, after the first two days of monitoring had revealed she spent the entire time on Youtube.

“Yeah? And has anything happened in the last, oh, 6 hours since she left for work?”

“No but she should be getting home soon—” Clint winced, having walked directly into the trap Tony set like a dumbass.

“Stop watching the bitch on my TV, all you do is stare down her fucking shirt anyway.”

“The bitch would make a pretty decent lay if you’d give a guy a break.”

Tony Stark did not roll his eyes. Tony Stark was a genius, ran a weapons engineering empire, had the most important politicians in the United States in his back pocket. Tony Stark did not roll his eyes.

So Tony Stark Did Not Roll His Eyes at the blond parked out on his couch with a bowl of popcorn and a beer. No doubt there was a cheap ass pizza on it’s way up the elevator, despite the fact Tony employed some of the best chefs in New York for his private kitchen. Clint Barton was the worst sort of best friend Tony had, but he’d still kill for the dumbass.

“What has Penelope Goddamn Motherfucking Parker done now?” Sam Wilson questioned absently as he walked into the living room from the kitchen, quoting Tony’s general tone of voice when talking about the woman.

“She hasn’t even taken her shirt off where I can see it, can you believe that? Fucking ridiculous. With a rack like that she should be shaking her tits on camera for money daily,” Clint whined in response, gesturing to the empty room on the TV, “I swear she sleeps on that fucking couch almost every night and not once has she undressed in front of the computer.”

“You’re a freak, my dude,” Sam smacked the blond upside the head as he walked past towards the elevator, “Time table still on track, Stark?”

“Steady as she goes,” Tony replied, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “Where are you going? Movie night starts in 20 minutes?”

Movie night was almost the most ridiculous thing Tony participated in on any given day. His inner circle was made up of the only people in the world he trusted, was made of up assassins and ex-military super soldiers and all sorts of genetically altered freaks, and somehow movie night had become a staple of their existence. To miss a movie night without a doctor’s note or a mission was a crime punishable by near exile in the form of a group silent treatment. Pepper, Happy and Pietro were currently exempt, away on a business trip as executive, body guard, and assistant.

“Just going to change,” Wilson gestured to his workout clothes and shrugged, “need to shower.”

“Now if only we could make you realize that needs to happen more than once a month,” Clint muttered quietly, only to have a dirty shoe nail him in the face a moment later.

The blond fell off the couch with a shout, popcorn flying everywhere as the bowl escaped his grip. Sam, who’s aim was almost as impeccable as Clint’s own, gave the man the finger as the elevator doors closed dramatically.

“You are a disaster of a human being,” Tony commented absently, still watching his phone as the little dot that was his baby boy moved through the city.

He ignored Clint’s protests, flopping onto the couch and making himself comfortable while the rest of the tower’s residents slowly ambled into the communal living room. Bucky and Steve were parked out on the recliner, disgustingly cute and cuddly even from a distance. They, like Clint, had a stupid fascination with fucking Penelope and were watching the webcam feed while they waited for everyone to arrive.

Natasha and Wanda wandered in while chatting, each already having a drink in their hand. Thor, Loki and Bruce all came out of the elevator at the same time, Bruce having come from the labs and the two brothers from the coffee shop on the ground floor of the tower. Sam and Rhodey entered at the same time from the stairwell, both having freshly showered after a long day.

“What are we watching tonight?”

The following argument generally lasted a solid 20 minutes, but Wanda and Natasha won out with a comedy horror they’d all already seen before. It left plenty of room for conversation while the movie played in the background, a deck of cards finding their way onto the coffee table as well.

“So what’s the plan for your boy’s sister, Tones?” Rhodey questioned as Sam dealt cards for their third game of poker of the night.

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic to get away from the bitch,” the man grumbled in response as he adjusted his hand, “He’d probably walk right out the front door and leave her in the dust if I asked. I figure I’ll give her an ultimatum: Peter comes with me and she shuts the fuck up, or Peter comes with me and she finds herself in a shallow grave.”

“I think I could draw her tits from memory from how often she’s on her computer and ignoring her brother,” Clint stated, because despite the fact he thought Penelope god awful Parker was hot as all Hell, he knew how much it hurt to have the person who was supposed to care for you most ignore you completely.

Rhodey hummed in agreement, “Maybe we should off her, just in case. I bet she gets some sort of welfare from the state for him and she shouldn’t get to keep raking that in.”

“She shouldn’t get it even while she’s got him,” Natasha stated from over her wine, spread out and lounging on the loveseat closest to the couch, “probably uses it for drugs. It definitely isn’t used for groceries to feed to the poor kid, he looks half starved.”

“Nah, that’s just teenage boy syndrome,” Bucky added a couple of bills to the pot on the coffee table, “Not that I think she’s winning any care taker of the year awards, but I’ve seen that him eat while doing surveillance. Kid could take down a whole ass McDonalds by himself if given the chance.”

“He’s been putting on some weight actually,” Tony felt the corners of his lips tip up in a small smirk, “Muscle mass, one of his friends started dragging him to lift weights on Thursdays.”

“Careful Stark, you get too excited by the thought and you’re gonna pop off in your jeans,” a round of snorts sounded at Rhodey’s words and Tony Stark, Who Did Not Roll His Eyes, gave his friend the finger.

“I say we just go ahead and kill her,” Bruce was focused more on his laptop and the reports there in than the movie, but made sure he always paid attention to the conversation during movie nights, “she’s a liability. It might help Peter adjust too, knowing that she’s gone.”

“And that he has nothing left and nothing to go back to,” Clint added, not mean spiritedly but pointedly and with an exaggerated head tilt.

“He won’t have anything left or anything to go back to,” it was pragmatic and a bit cold, but Steve never pulled his punches, “its best to cut all ties. The more he relies on Tony, the faster he’ll adapt to his new situation. Maybe its manipulative, but this is a weird situation and we might have to get our hands dirty to get him to a good place, mentally and physically.”

“By weird you mean kidnapping a kid?”

“For his own good!”

“Its only kidnapping until he turns eighteen, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how the concept of kidnapping works, Clint.”

“Excuse me, sir,” JARVIS suddenly interrupted, turning on the lights and turning off the movie, “I believe it is important that you watch the webcam footage I’ve been monitoring. The recording begins as of five minutes ago and is still ongoing.”

“Pull it up, J,” Tony ordered quickly, sitting forward on the couch.

Everyone in the room watched in confusion as the TV began to roll on Peter and stupid fucking Penelope sitting in front of the laptop, most likely at the kitchen table. Peter was slightly off to the side, the computer centered more on his sister.

“Penny, please just tell me what you’ve decided on? I’ve been watching you lose your mind for weeks, I know you came up with something last night.”

“You’re… not going to like it Peter,” fucking Penelope’s voice was soft, the laptop microphone too shitty to pick up the quiet cadence well, “If you can think of something better, we’ll go with that. But… I don’t think there’s another choice. I’ve gone through everything I can think of. Try to let me get through this without yelling at me, okay?”

They’d never really seen Peter and fucking Penelope interact before. Most of the time it was just her, on the laptop, all the fucking time. Peter came and went in the background, to and from school and clubs and his friend’s houses, but most of the time she closed the laptop when he was around. They were all a bit surprised by how much affection was in her expression as she looked at her brother. Peter nodded at her, lips already pursed in frustration.

“I’ve been doing as much research as I can on Tony Stark. He’s… God, he’s got more influence than the fucking president. There are entire states in his pocket, Pete. Can you believe that? From what I can figure out, he’s got just about every New York senator on his payroll and don’t even get me started on the police—”

“How’d she figure that out?” Rhodey’s frown was a mixture of concern and irritation, “There’s never been any sort of reporting on your dealings with politicians.”

“I don’t know.”

“The good news is, I don’t think he has any business in Oregon. I’ve looked through as much of the gossip as I can, he’s never spent any significant amount of time there and if I’ve been understanding the weird ass insinuations correctly, his businesses don’t operate in the area.”

“Oregon? Are we gonna go there?” Peter reached out and grabbed his sister’s hands, “I promise, I’m not upset over us having to move Penny, I—”

“Peter, I’m… I’m not moving babe, you are.”

The teenager seemed to draw back slightly, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth dropping open as he searched for words but was unable to come up with any.

“I don’t think you remember them, the last time we saw them was before mom and dad died, but we have second cousins in Oregon, Paul and Olivia. They’re about ten years older than me, with one kid. When I got custody of you, I contacted them. I wanted to make sure that if something happened to me, I had a sure thing lined up for you. It was years ago, but they promised they’d take you in a heartbeat if I couldn’t care for you anymore, for any reason.”

“You… you wanted to give me to them?” Peter’s eyes were full of tears and they watched as Penelope reacted in horror.

“Peter, no! Never! I would never willingly let you go. I was worried, everyone around us was dropping like flies in freak accidents and I couldn’t let you go into foster care if I died. I just wanted to make sure you would have someone if something happened to me.”

“You thought you were gonna die?”

“My birth father died, and then mom and dad died, then uncle Ben, then aunt May. I didn’t want to leave you alone with no one. I didn’t think I was gonna die, I just… wanted to be prepared. Just in case.”

“Why are you bringing them up? And Oregon? What do you mean that I’m moving? Alone?”

Penelope What the Fuck is Happening Parker’s lips pursed, eyes filling with tears. There was a level of sheer pain on her face that was startling for them all to see, especially considering they’d managed to work her up as an unfeeling monster in their heads for fucking weeks now.

“I’ve tried a thousand ways for us both to go, but I just… I don’t have the money saved for us to move. We’d have to break the lease and even if we left with the clothes on our backs, we wouldn’t be able to afford getting to Oregon. The car won’t make it, I can’t afford plane tickets. I wouldn’t be able to afford to get to Oregon. But I’ve figured out a way to get you there.”

“How Penny?” Peter’s was obviously trying to sound stern, but his voice cracked slightly.

“Not tomorrow, but the day after, we’re going to put in an anonymous call to Child Protective Services and claim that I’m abusing you. Neglecting you. They’ll take you out of my custody and send you to Olivia and Paul, since they’re our ‘closest’ living relatives.” Penelope Oh Fuck Parker’s voice was cracking too, tears running down her face as she explained her batshit crazy plan to her baby brother, who they were quickly realizing was far from neglected or abused.

Tony felt his chest tightening at the sight of the siblings, both with tears streaming down their cheeks. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get it so incredibly wrong. Maybe he’d seen what he wanted to see, that his baby boy was easy pickings. That no one really cared for him so it would be easy to sweep him off his feet and spirit him away.

“You’ve never abused me! You’ve never neglected me! How could you even say that, Penny!? Everything you’ve ever done—”

“Peter please, listen,” Penny was nearly sobbing, grasping Peter’s hands tightly with her entire body angled downwards over them, “We have to pretend, okay? We have to pretend because they’ll send you somewhere safe.”

“You’ll go to jail!”

“That’s fine! That’s okay, Peter! As long as you’re safe, I don’t care—”

“You can’t ask me to do this, you can’t ask me to send you to jail, to send you away when you haven’t done anything wrong, ever! I wouldn’t even be able to visit you! I’d be a million miles away and you’d be rotting away in jail because I was too stupid to mind my own business!”

“Peter none of this is your fault,” the tone was so stern and determined as Penny sat straighter in her chair, squeezing her brother’s hands reassuringly even as her chest heaved with grief, “it’s that fucking pedophile, piece of shit Tony Goddamn Stark’s fault, don’t you ever think that you are at all to blame for any of this—”

“I probably deserve at least half of that rage,” Tony stated absently, almost guilty at the word ‘pedophile’.

“Half? Hah!” It was an absent response, more instinct than intention but got the point across even as the entire group was absorbed by the pain playing out on the TV.

“I went to that stupid tower!” Peter wailed suddenly, making Penny go stiff, “After you got that note telling you not to report the assault, I went to the tower because I knew he worked there and I wanted him to suffer. You wouldn’t go to the police because they threatened your family but I thought… It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I was stupid and I went to fucking Stark Tower and that’s where he saw me. It’s all my fault.” Peter’s sobbing was viscerally painful to hear, even through the shitty microphone.

“What assault? A note? JARVIS, figure out what he’s talking about!” Tony barked, already on his feet and pulling out his phone, “Give me the surveillance footage from that day, who was my boy here looking for?!”

“As the conversation is roughly five minutes delayed, I took the liberty of deciphering Mr. Parker’s statements already, sir,” the AI stated calmly, “six months ago, Mr. Brock Rumlow of level six security sexually assaulted Ms. Penelope Parker in a club in Queens. In order to prevent any bad press upon the company, a persuasive letter was sent from the Tower’s security to Ms. Parker to ensure her silence on the matter. I assume the day you came across Mr. Parker was the day he arrived to confront Mr. Rumlow over the assault and threat.”

“Find him,” Tony snarled towards Rhodey, who was already on his feet and typing away at his phone, heading towards the elevator, “Alive, Rhodey!”

“I’ll see what I can manage,” the man muttered darkly as the doors shut and he began descending towards level six, leaving the rest of them in the living room.

“He… he saw you… there? Oh, god… Oh god he saw you because you went to the tower, oh my God you went there because of me and he saw you— Oh my God!” Penny’s reaction was so emotionally brutal that it verged on physically violent. Her entire body seemed to lock up for a solid thirty seconds before she threw herself out of the chair and they could hear retching in the background a moment later. Peter was still sitting on the far side of the screen, sobbing into his hands.

Almost five minutes later, Penny ambled back into view. Her face was so pale compared to her usually tan complexion that she looked like a ghost. A fine tremble ran through her entire body, goosebumps visible on her exposed arms.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter’s voice broke through his sobs, bone achingly sad, “I’m so sorry I did this to us.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, bud,” Penny’s eyes were almost blank, the pain so overwhelming that she couldn’t force any other expression, “I set all of this in motion. I made a mistake and I’m so sorry you’re having to pay for it. I should’ve protected you better, you never should’ve even known what happened, let alone who— it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Everything is going to be okay Peter. We have a plan and everything is going to be alright.”

“You’re going to go to jail, Penny! For a horrible crime that you’d never, ever commit! Because I was stupid and immature and—”

“Stop Peter,” Tony’s eyes watered as Penny gently ran her fingers through Peter’s hair and left it to rest on his cheek, “don’t blame yourself for this. No matter what you did, no matter what choices you made, you didn’t deserve to be frightened and stalked. What’s happening is happening because there’s a man out there with a sick mind, who thinks he can take whatever and whoever he wants for whatever he wants. That’s not on you, babe. That’s on him. And everyone who built him up and let him get to this point.”

She let Peter cry for several minutes and the group in the living room found themselves left to digest the situation to the sound of his sobs. Discomfort ran through all of them, for different reasons. Because they’d judged Penelope Too Good for This World Parker so wrong. Because they were the ones enabling Tony to do something terrible. Because they didn’t actually feel guilty for enabling Tony but they did feel guilty for the pain it was causing the Parker siblings.

“You’ll take such good care of him, Tony,” Natasha said quietly after a moment, seeing the pain in the man’s face, “He’s never going to want for anything ever again. He’s going to live in comfort and luxury for the rest of his life and that’s because of you.”

“He’s scared right now, Tones,” Clint jumped in quickly when it looked like Tony might protest, “They both are and we can’t blame them for that. But once they’re—he’s here, he’ll realize that it’s not a bad thing and that he has nothing to be afraid of. That we’re going to take care of them—him, all of us.”

Mind running at a million times per hour, Tony considered their words. Actually, he considered Clint’s words. Clint’s misspoken statements that implied both Parker siblings would be in the tower. Both of them would be safe and cared for. Both.

“They’ll never want for anything ever again,” Tony repeated quietly, all eyes in the room locked carefully on him, “Peter and Penny shouldn’t be separated.”

“You’ve given up everything for me, Penny,” Peter whispered after his cries calmed, “You dropped out of high school, dropped out of college, started working three jobs so I could go to that stupid school, you don’t sleep, you hardly eat, and I know it’s all for me. I can’t let you give up your freedom, I can’t let you give up anything else for me.”

“Oh my God no wonder she’s so skinny,” Wanda suddenly gasped, tears pouring down her cheeks in continuous rivers, “we thought Peter was skinny, but look at her, look at her collar bones! JARVIS, give me a record of all credit and debit card transactions she’s made in the last month and—” The redhead cut herself off when Penny began speaking again.

“All I want is for you to be happy Peter,” Penny whispered, the blank look in her eyes fading into grief again, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. You’re everything to me, you’re my baby brother. I’ll do anything to keep you safe, bud, anything.”

“I won’t do it, Penny, I won’t—”

“Yes, you will, Peter,” resolve hardened Penny’s voice and she squeezed her brother’s hands, “You’re going to do as I say. Tomorrow you’re going to go to school and I’m going to call out of work. I’m going to throw most of your clothes away, all of the food in the house. I’m going to switch my stuff for yours, so it looks like I make you sleep on the couch while I take the bedroom.”

“Oh God she does sleep on the couch every night,” Professional Perfect Person Penelope Parker Stalker Clint Barton gasped in horror as he recalled his earlier comment on her sleeping habits and her undressing habits oh no.

“I’m going to trash the place as authentically as I can and I’m… God I’m going to destroy some of your stuff, Pete,” Penny looked pained at the thought, scraping a hand down her face, “But I’m going to transfer all of my savings into your name, so you’ll only be without your stuff for a little while. You can rebuy everything you need once this is over.”

“I can’t take your money, Pen—”

“Hush Peter. I don’t have much saved up, but I’ll put it under your name tomorrow. Now, when I turn 25 in a few months I’ll be able to use my portion of the money mom and dad left us. I’m going to transfer that to you as soon as I can, it should be enough for you to live off of once you turn 18 as long as you use it wisely.”

“Penny, please, you can’t expect—”

“I expect you to do as I say, Peter!” She cut him off with all the flare of a bossy big sister, “I want you to apply to universities outside of the United States. Focus on places like Norway, Australia and New Zealand. Avoid Mexico, Canada and the UK because I think he has business dealings in those countries and I don’t know how long he’ll be willing to search for you, so don’t risk it.”

“How does she know about our business in those places?” Tony threw his hands up in confusion.

“Sir, from what I can gather from Ms. Parker’s search history, she has done her best to track yours and your staff’s movements around the world for the last five or so years by means of social media and gossip blogs—”

“Well holy fuck, who would’ve thought to do that?” Sam’s eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline, “that’s ridiculous, no wonder she was on the laptop constantly.”

“Once you turn 25 you’ll come into your inheritance too. By that time I’ll probably be out of jail but… Peter I want you to leave me alone, okay? We don’t know… we don’t know if Stark will let this go, if he loses you. He might use my location and contacts to find you and I can’t let that happen.”

“You want me to just cut you out of my life forever? Like you’re some horrible monster I never want to see again? I can’t—”

“We don’t have a choice bud,” Penny was quiet, soothing as she ran her fingers over his wrists and hands, “Tony Stark is a dangerous man and he has more connections and money than we could ever hope to fight. The police won’t help us, the law won’t help us. All we have is this plan and I need you to follow it. I need to be able to trust that you’ll follow the plan, so that you’ll be safe.”

“What about you, Penny!? You won’t be safe! You’re always so worried about, about me being safe and happy that you forget about yourself! Do you understand that you’re telling me you want to go to jail? That you want me to abandon you forever?”

Penny seemed to waiver for just a second, as if she might actually let some tiny ounce of selfishness set in and change her mind, before her resolve hardened once again and she stood, putting herself nearly out of frame, “This is happening, Peter. This is the plan. This is what we’re doing. Because I won’t let him hurt you. I will literally do anything to keep you safe Peter, this doesn’t even make a wave in the pool of batshit crazy I’m willing to go if I need to. I love you. Now go to bed, you have school in the morning.”

[cupcakemolotov]

Dragon Dust

I feel like a broken record, but I cannot look at this thing anymore. I started this... ages ago for @justanotherfiveminutes and ahahaha I have about 6K of it finished and its probably going to need at least one follow up at some point but whatever. SFW, as there is no porn here. Just dragons and magic and thief Caroline. And you know, Damon being a dick.

The ledge was cold and dangerously smooth beneath her bare toes, and Caroline pressed tightly against the wall behind her. Her boots bounced against her sternum, the laces tied around her neck, but she didn't dare lift a hand to hold them steady. She risked a peek down and swallowed hard as she took in the drop. If she squinted, she could almost make out the patrolling guards below her as individuals and not just moving torches, the faint chink of armor bouncing across the stone walls. The sound of heavy boots echoed against the unforgiving stone of the bridged walkway above her. 

She fervently wished the guards were her main concern. Blowing out a slow breath, Caroline winced as the breeze ruffled the edges of her clothing, the smell of a storm heavy in the air. She hoped the building storm continued to hold off, the sharp flashes of lightning vivid above the fog. Originally, she’d planned on using the storm to cover her tracks, but now the rain was a liability she couldn't afford. The magic that she'd used to carefully coax the razor thin ledge from the sheared stone walls around her wouldn't hold forever, and rain would turn stone into a slippery death.

Biting her lip tightly between her teeth, Caroline inched along the narrow ledge and tried not to think of falling. This wasn't her first escape out a window, this wasn't even her first creep across an impossible ledge. But having recently retired from her guild, she'd hoped to avoid dangling from unnecessary heights. 

Enzo would have laughed at her, if he’d been around for it. 

A faint ripple of a sound and Caroline went motionless, teeth clenched tightly together to keep them from chattering from the cold. The fog moved, and she caught the barest glimpse of wings before the patrolling beast melted back into the night. Fear was a cold knot in her stomach, and she stood unmoving in the hopes of calming her hammering pulse. If she was caught, a dragon was as likely to eat her as to question her, and she didn't have time for either.

Caroline was tempted to hate High Castle. 

Yesterday, she'd thought it beautiful.

The massive stone columns reaching into the sky were breathtaking and the perfect masonry gave the gleaming towers a false appearance of delicacy. Staring at the craftsmanship, you could almost forget the stone arches of the gate were over twenty feet tall, and why. Even the main courtyard was disproportionate to anything Caroline had known in her life, the wide space of dark stone scarred heavily by claws. High Castle's walls were carved out of the mountain itself, though the highest tower reached well above the mountain's stone peaks. Everything was massive, built on lines that no human would ever dream of creating. 

It had stirred something in her chest as she stared at the dragon's display of power. Terror? Fascination? Awe? Some mix of all three? She didn’t know. 

What she did know was that breaking into High Castle was the height of stupidity. Dragons might chose to walk on two legs, but they were hardly human. Unfortunately, she'd no actual choice in the matter. 

Not with Enzo's life on the line. 

In her pocket was a magical timer. It liked it unnecessary zap her every few hours to remind her that it was ticking down. Damon has worn such a delighted smile when he’d given it to her, the jerk. It was completely unnecessary, and it’d been years since she had been subject to anything similar. Usually guilds only used such things for new members or thieves who had failed too many missions to be trusted. Caroline and Enzo had been highly ranked guild members, and their price had reflected that.

Damon was sadistic and an ass. It was a terrible combination, and one day she’d make him eat his arrogance. As soon as she freed Enzo.

She just had to survive first. Determinedly, Caroline thought of all the ways she was going to make Enzo regret his lack of judgment as she inches across the wall. He’d let Damon Salvatore of all people get a drop on him. 

And over something as insubstantial as a myth. 

She had always thought Enzo’s dragon obsession was ridiculous, but it’d been a small flaw in what had otherwise been a reasonable person. Her best friend and business partner had an eye for a good deal. He was an excellent thief and she’d never once worried that he’d betray her. But she'd known the moment he walked in two years earlier, tossing a dragon scale from hand to hand, that something was different. 

"Oh, stop looking so put out, Gorgeous," Enzo said with a laugh as he set it on their table, sitting down with a thump. "These things are harmless." Caroline pursed her lips, staring at it with trepidation. "Nothing a dragon casts out into the world is harmless, Enzo. How did you even get that? Dragons are particular about their scales.”

Her friend shrugged. "This isn’t a real scale, not the way you’re thinking. No one really knows what they are, but there isn’t really any magic to them. They’re harmless. My mom had one for a bit, and it just sat around, a fascinating paper weight. Then one day, it disappeared." She stared at him dubiously. "It disappeared.  I thought you said it didn’t have any magic? Someone probably hawked it. Why didn't you hawk it?" "Can't sell 'em. A merchant with a fascination might give you a bolt of cloth or a pretty trinket, but no one gives them any real value because they don't stick around long. You can't collect them. Honestly, if they didn’t disappear on their own whim, no one would even think they’d once belonged to a dragon.”

Brows tucking together, she peered at the red heart of it. It seemed to flicker in the light, and she wondered if she touched it, if it would be warm. A tiny piece of something humans were fascinated and terrified by in equal turns. "Why'd you pick it up then?" "It's red. My last one was green." Enzo laughed at her annoyed noise and swiped it off the table. "Here, catch." Swearing as the flat, shimmering stone no bigger than her fist was tossed at her, she caught it before it could smack her in the face. Glaring as Enzo smirked at her, she yelped when it suddenly blazed in her hands. She dropped it back into the table, her palms and finger bones vibrating. For a moment, her skin seemed to glitter as if she plunged them into gold dust. Under her disbelieving gaze, the effect slowly faded, until she had to squint to see the lingering edges of it. 

Enzo had straightened, his face wiped clean of amusement. Shaking her hands over the table, she bit out her next sentence. "Is this some sort of joke? Because it's not funny." Enzo shook his head, reaching for the stone, rolling it between his hands for a long moment. "No, I didn't arrange that." "Then what is this?" Troubled eyes met hers, and Enzo shook his head. "I don't know." Her hands sometimes still glimmered faintly in the direct sunlight of the noon sun. She'd taken to wearing gloves, but somehow, Damon Salvatore had discovered her secret. 

And Damon wanted something badly from the dragons. And for some insane reason, he thought she could get it for him. And with Enzo’s life in the balance, she had no choice but to try. 

And now she was clinging to the side of High Castle and hoping she didn't splatter like a bug.

Shivering at another gust of wind, which was probably the downdraft of an unseen dragon, Caroline ignored her frozen toes and continued to inch along. All she had to do was get inside, steal a trinket, and get back out. She could do it. She’d stolen bigger, more dangerous things over the years, what was one more impossible mission?

The first, cold raindrop hit her nose and she tried to flatten even further against the wall. In another five feet she'd run out of ledge and either have to make a precarious drop or try to climb up to the battlements. Salvatore’s grasp of the defenses had been shy on the details, but Caroline imagined she’d probably find herself facing archers and more patrolling dragons. 

Not the King. She shuddered. He wasn't supposed to be in the castle. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the country. She'd never have risked stealing from the tower if she'd known that the King had returned from negotiations in the West. Niklaus, The Great Hoarder, Klaus to foe and friend alike, was known to take even the smallest of thefts in his castle personally. The debacle of a visiting ambassador getting a little light fingered with a scale or two a few decades ago was still talk of the mage circles. 

And what Klaus had done with the ambassador had featured prominently in those stories. Unlike Enzo’s pretty mementos, dragons were very careful about letting scales, teeth or bones out into the wild. Smart thieves knew to avoid dragon hoards. 

It’d only been dumb luck that she'd seen him and his entourage of guards before they’d seen her. There had been no mistaking the tumbled head of curls and the aura of impatient anger and power that followed him. She'd never seen him in person before, but many artists had taken great delight in recreating the stark lines of his face, his full lips. The hard angle of his jaw and slashed, angry tilt of his eyes.

But those sketches hadn’t prepared her for the impact of his face in person. The punch of it in her chest stole her breath. He’d ground to a halt in the middle of the corridor, gaze narrowed to burning slits of dragon magic, and her heart had leapt into her throat. For a single, terrible moment Caroline thought he’d sensed her presence. 

But that was impossible.

She’d activated no alarm. She wore no magic on her skin. There was nothing about her small, human presence that should have tipped him off to anything. There were a number of the castle staff who were human, a handful of rotating ambassadors who made a point to stay in his presence and an endless rotation of merchants hoping to trade.

Caroline was just one human girl among the many. 

But there had been no mistaking the tension in the hall, the heat of magic building as Klaus had all but glowed with a warning that had fisted in her chest. Just when she’d been terrified to so much as breathe, someone had called his name, words cutting through the air like a knife. She had taken the opportunity to all but flee out the nearest window. 

And now she was stuck with no easy way down and a storm building violently above her head. 

Shivering at another blast of cold air, Caroline pressed her hand flat against the wall and coaxed a little more distance out of her ledge. The longer she crept along the castle walls, the more it felt like a trap. What kind of trap, she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to find out. While every drop of magic used escalated the risk, it was still better than a fall to her death.

Five more steps to the right and she could reach a balcony. Maybe she could find a way to sneak out after that. Better to try again at stealing when the king had left than to rush and end up being turned into a Caroline-flambé.

As if her thoughts had summoned it, the quiet was broken by a clanging bell and Caroline's mouth ran dry. She didn't know the patterns that signified an alarm, but there was an urgency to the tolling that told her that whatever had happened in the castle, it was now on high alert. It was possible she wasn’t the only thief Salvatore had sent into the castle and she cursed at the thought.

Some idiot was going to get her killed.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she moved forward and tried to ignore the strain on her magic, cursing her luck. She needed to make it to the balcony and she needed to do it soon. Setting her teeth to stop them from chattering, she inched forward as quickly as she dared.

She was almost a foot from the prettily curving rail when the first fat raindrop splattered across her face. Hissing through clenched teeth, Caroline judged the distance as the rain started to fall in angry drops and then a deluge. The wind had changed too, harsh gusts mingling violently with the dragon backwinds to create wicked whips of water.

Praying to whatever gods might have been listening, she pressed her hands flat against the wall. She only had one way off the wall and her magic wouldn’t last forever. Heart hammering in her throat, Caroline leapt across the gap. 

She landed on her stomach, the thick stone of the railing driving the air from her lungs as she reflexively clung to anything she could reach. Her boots banged painfully against her chest, the heavy laces abrading the back of her neck as they dangled over the balcony. Her bare, half-frozen toes scrambled to find purchase on the rough stone and she finally managed to awkwardly shove her weight forward, tumbling onto the stone floor with several shuddering gasps. 

Not being dead hurt.

A sudden, violent peal of thunder had her rolling to her knees. Her ribs twinged, stomach aching, but she forced herself to get to her feet. Dying by lightning strike couldn’t hurt more but she’d made it this far, she needed to keep going. Shivering in earnest, she staggered towards the balcony doors. 

Praying that they weren’t locked, her fingers closed along the handle as a roar sounded through the bones of the castle, rattling her teeth in a way that had nothing to do with the storm. Choking on her next inhale at the sudden wash of dragon magic so potent her lungs froze in her chest. Her eyes stung. She’d never known hunting magic so strong, and Caroline stumbled into the door she was holding onto. It opened beneath her weight and she fell gracelessly into a heap. 

She didn’t have time to worry about her aching bones or if the room was occupied as the magic continued to bore down on the castle. Curling into a ball, she clumsily dug through the extra pocket she’d sewn into her pants for emergencies, fingers shaking. The feeling of being hunted, of magic searching, only intensified and she curled her fingers around her emergency spell. It activated beneath her palm and the force of it nearly left her blind. 

But it broke the terrible hold of the dragon magic.

Coughing as her lungs started to function again, Caroline heaved in several greedy gulps of air. A heartbeat, then two, and the roar that shook the castle this time left her whimpering low in her throat. The silence afterwards was loud and painful, and she lifted her head just long enough to confirm the room seemed to be unoccupied before awkwardly collapsing back onto the floor.

Pressing her face against what felt like a very nice rug, Caroline struggled to put her composure back together. The spell she’d just used bought her an hour or two, tops. A specialty of Enzo’s, one they’d taken great pains to hide, the don’t-look-at-me spell would hide her from any kind of hunting magic. Though it would do her little good if someone walked in on her gasping like a fish on the floor. She probably should have used it earlier and tried to escape with it, but it was a habit to use it only as a last resort. The ingredients were rare and expensive, and it took Enzo nearly a month to work the spell.

But whatever the dragons had unleashed…

Refusing to think about what might happen if they discovered her, Caroline forced herself to take several measured breaths. Once she was certain she wouldn’t hyperventilate, she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position to take stock of where she was and what her options where. 

She almost immediately wished she hadn’t.

While the room was very faintly lit, from what she could see everything in it spoke of constrained opulence. The rugs beneath her, the impression of a giant bed, what looked like some couches in front of a fireplace. If she squinted, she could almost make out the shadowed walls and what might have been shelving.

And the smell. A mix of something a little like wood smoke and something like heat against stone mingled pleasantly. Caroline had never been close enough to a dragon to smell one before, but her stomach twisted in knots as she realized where she had landed. 

She was in a dragon’s bedroom. 

But what was even worse was the realization that in the faint, barely discernible light, her hands were shimmering. Lips parting on a sharp inhale, she curled her fingers tightly into her palms and cursed. The gold dust was at the brightest she’d ever seen it outside that first afternoon, and shock left her reeling. Staring at her golden skin, she set her teeth and waited for the glow to fade.

But the shimmer of it, utterly beautiful and completely terrifying, seemed determined to stick around this time. 

Biting her lip hard enough to sting, Caroline slapped at her pockets, searching frantically for the gloves she’d tucked away when she’d started climbing the walls. Right then, she was seriously regretting that her magic worked best if she could feel the stone with her bare hands. Had she somehow absorbed some of the magic in the walls? Whatever spell had marked her hadn’t been designated for thieves, because Enzo had come away without a mark. But she definitely wouldn’t be stealing anything tonight if her hands continue to shimmer.  

Cursing when she realized her gloves were missing, she scrambled back to her feet and winced as her laces dug into tender skin. Her boots were soaked, so there was no point in putting them back on just then. Tugging them over her head, she tied the laces to her belt, situating her boots so they’d lay against her thighs. 

Outside, the wind howled and she shivered reflexively. The room was balmy, protecting her from the worst of the cold, but she was soaked through. Unfortunately, she’d have to worry about her clothing once she found a way out of the room and a better place to hide. Squaring her shoulders, Caroline listened to the utter silence for several long moments before she picked a direction and tried to locate a door. Relief was heady as she immediately found one.

It’d probably be a closet or bathroom, but at least she’d eventually find a door out. There was no way a dragon was using the balcony as the only entry and exit to the top. She needed to get out of this bedroom before the dragon came back, and after that, the castle. And she needed to do it before the storm broke and dawn lit up the sky. 

She’d just have to figure out another way to rescue Enzo. Stealing from the dragons tonight when the King was home was a really bad idea. Reaching for the door handle, she cursed when it rattled under her hand but didn’t budge. Locked. 

Warily looking around the cavern of a room, Caroline forcibly told herself that the door probably led to some sort of secret stash and it made sense that it was locked. Refusing to panic, she crept along the wall until she found another door. And then another. And then back again to the first. But no matter what handle she picked, none of them would budge. In the dull light of the room she couldn’t find so much as a keyhole to try to pick. And using any more magic inside the castle was a terrible idea. Maybe she could find something and take the hinges on the door apart…

But the doors seemed to be crafted out some sort of stone stone and there while there were seams, she couldn’t find a hinge. Just to be sure, Caroline crossed the room again and tried the balcony doors and found they’d sealed shut. 

She was trapped.

Forcibly swallowing down her rising panic, Caroline decided the only thing she could do was wait. She had some time before Enzo’s spell wore off. Hopefully by then whatever hunting magic had been set loose would have dissipated. That would give her time to think as long as the owner of the bedroom stayed gone. 

But first, she was going to need a hiding place.

Once she managed that, she could give herself a few moments to quietly freak out and then come up with another plan. Hopefully one that would work this time.

-

A loud banging noise jolted her awake. Eyes snapping open, Caroline was horrified to realize that she’d dozed off. The cozy warmth of the room and the strain of using so much magic had clearly worked against her. Outside the storm still beat against the castle with noisy abandonment, and her internal clock said she couldn’t have slept for more than an hour. Wiggling in the corner she’d jammed herself into, she winced as her limbs stiffly protested the motion. Squinting, Caroline tried to figure out where the noise that had woken her had come from. 

She didn’t have to wait long. 

One of the doors she’d been unable to budge had slammed open and overhead lights now flared into life illuminating a room that was definitely opulent and absolutely not restrained in showing it off. Shelves and tables gleamed with priceless treasures, silks and paintings decorated the walls, but it was the man who stalked through the door that caught and held her attention. She froze, muscles locking in place as she stared at the Dragon King pacing in constrained rage in his bedroom. 

He paused in the middle of the room, hands curled into fists as he exhaled harshly. His head tipped back, every line of him vibrating with barely constrained power and shock left her mouth bone dry. She couldn’t be in his room. 

The King’s tower was nowhere near the part of the castle she’d been climbing. She’d hadn’t even come close to breaching the third level of the castle, much less the upper ramparts. How had she ended up in his room? Panic jumbled her thoughts even as she automatically took stock of his appearance, looking for any kind of weakness. 

He definitely wasn’t difficult to look at.

For a dragon, he wasn’t as tall as she would have expected, and the long lines of him were deceptively lean. His hair was a fascinating, riotous mess. His full mouth was set into a hard line and her eyes lingered without her permission somewhere around the length of his throat, teeth sinking harshly into her lip. If she hadn’t been so worried that he’d tear out her throat if he found her, she’d have found him gorgeous. 

But then he moved and she realized the sheen on his shirt was blood. A lot of it. Pressing her hand firmly against her mouth, she nearly choked on her next breath as he pulled the ruined clothing over his head. Eyes wide, she stared at the hard planes of his abdomen and the smooth muscles along his chest, nails digging harshly into her thigh to keep from doing something stupid. 

Like trying to touch him. 

The inexplicable need of it was vibrating in her bones. She’d never heard of this particular reaction to dragon magic but maybe they just didn’t speak it outside proper mage circles. There was no good or sane reason for her to want to touch him so badly her hands trembled with need. Tucking her fingers firmly between her thighs, Caroline tried not to fidget as she waited him out.

Her pulse kicked in her chest when he muttered something pithy, the shift of his face so inexplicably lonely that she couldn’t help but wonder what could leave him with such an expression. Teeth scraping her lip, she froze when his brows sudden came together and he suddenly scanned the room with eyes gone pale gold with power. As if he sensed her. He perused the room slowly, something about her presence clearly nudged at his attention. 

Caroline held her breath. You can’t see me. You can’t see me. The chat was repeated over and over, nails digging into her thigh.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he moved towards a different door and pulled it open, disappearing inside. Very, very carefully, Caroline let out a shaky breath.

Fingers trembling with lingering adrenaline, she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly, working to calm her racing heart. The soft hum of water moving against stone told her that he was cleaning up after what might have been a bout of torture. He’d definitely, probably, killed someone. 

She didn’t have the time to worry about that just then. She needed to think. Looking around now that there were lights, she shifted carefully to stare at the wall that had once been a balcony. Now there were a series of tall, impossible windows that showed how heavily the rainfall lashed at the castle. 

There was no way she’d hallucinated the balcony earlier, not when she’d fallen into it hard enough that her stomach muscles were bruised.  That meant magic. Every Guild knew the rumors that High Castle was inescapable. Many a thief had disappeared in its walls, never to return. Most of her guild wrote off those disappearances as dragon paranoia and their magical defenses. Enzo, however, was from a different part of the world and had other theories. He came from a place further east and closer to dragon territory than she’d lived most of her life, and he spoke of dragon magic as if it were sentient. 

It sucked that she was starting to think he was right. It sounded insane, but if the castle walls had moved that made escaping a lot more complicated. In her pocket, the spell timer pulsed in warning. 

Mentally promising herself that she was going to make Damon regret this idea, she forced herself to take even breaths. Glancing around the room again, her brain finally made the connection that if the dragon had walked through the door there was a chance it was still unlocked. Pushing to her feet with a wince as her bones creaked, Caroline warily glanced at the open bathroom door. She was a thief. A good one. She could make it across the room. She could even do it quietly.

Carefully, on whisper-soft feet, she inched her way across the open space. The carpet absorbed her footsteps, and there was no indication that the dragon sensed her presence. Sending a short prayer to whatever of her gods were listening, she crept closer to the door. 

Five feet from the door, Enzo’s magic failed. The sound of it crackled around her, an egg shell breaking in half. The noise was a built in warning, and it should have only been heard by her. But she stood still for several heartbeats anyway, waiting to see if the dragon had been alerted to her presence now that she was no longer under magical cover. When silence held, heart hammering in her throat, she took a single, careful step. 

A roar shook the room.

Bolting, Caroline made for the open door. 

If she could get outside of this room she’d have a much better chance of escaping. She was half a foot away when it slammed shut in front of her. Twisting hard, she threw herself to the side as something blurred in her peripheral vision. The impression of heat, of something large and angry, had her heart jolting into her throat. Scrambling for one of the windows, her mind frantically searching for, and then discarding plans as fast as she could think of them, she yelped when she was suddenly jerked backwards by her cloak. 

Her teeth clacked together as she fell to the floor, breath forced painfully from her lungs as her boots slammed into her ribs and for a moment the world was a confusing tangle of cloth, pain and slick, fever warm skin. Scrambling for a foothold, a grip, an angle for a knee, Caroline used every dirty trick she could think of to throw the dragon off of her. Nothing she tried drew more than a grunt as she struggled blindly beneath him. Her cloak blocked her vision as she struggled, and twisted sharply, forehead smacking into what felt like a stone wall. The dragon cursed above her and she groaned in pain, temple throbbing as her cloak was yanked away from her face. 

Caroline blinked the stars from her eyes, trying to make sense of the impression of tangled curls and damp, pale skin, the tight, angry line of his jaw. The dragon’s eyes were blue and ringed in gold, the stupidly gorgeous planes of his face and generous lips far too close to her face.

“A second thief. How unfortunate for you.” He growled, words bitten off as the weight of him pinned her to the floor. “How exactly did you find yourself in my room?”

She had not expected the sharp, biting edge of his accent and bit down sharply on the side of her tongue to keep from answering the snarled question. Nothing she could say here would be believed, and it was better to say nothing and escape later than accidentally give something important away, like her name. His lips curled, teeth white in the low light, and her stomach jumped. 

“It takes a talented thief indeed to make it this far into my castle, human, but I’m not feeling particularly forgiving tonight. Tell me who sent you.” His head tipped, eyes glittering. “Unless you’d prefer the same treatment as your companion?”

Rage and frustration knotted in her chest. So Damon has been enough of a fool to send in another thief and it was going to cost her. Her chances of slipping in and out of the castle unnoticed had been ruined before she’d even begun. Temper made her reckless, and she bared her teeth as the air heated with magic. 

“No.”

“No?” His lashes narrowed, blue fading rapidly into pale gold. “Clever then, but not particularly bright. You’ll live longer, if you answer my questions.”

This time Caroline managed to stubbornly hold her tongue. It was the height of stupidity to match wills against the dragon king, naked or not, particularly with his temper written clearly across his face, but the fear she should have felt wouldn’t come. The angry, rumbling noise he made in his chest startled her more than terrified, and he sat up and stood with a smooth motion of slick muscle that was far more distracting that it should have been. Her eyes jerked up to his face and her cheeks flamed as she tried not to stare at the eyeful he seemed so unconcerned with offering. 

“Well,” his smile was bladed, the dimples dangerous. “Let’s see if some time in the dungeons will loosen your tongue, hmm? Your friend is proving to be quite… resilient. We shall have to see if you are just as stubborn.”

Caroline yelped embarrassingly when he fisted his hand in her shift and yanked her off the floor. Her hands scrambled against his on reflex as he shifted his weight to drag her out of the room, she cursed he came to a halt and her momentum left her crashing into the full length of him. Jerking back, she glared and dug her nails into his skin. Any curses she might have tossed at him died as her eyes returned to his face, and her stomach flipped when she realized his gaze was locked on her hands and the shimmer of magic across her fingers. 

For a moment her heart lodged in her throat and it was impossible to breathe. Dragging in air, she dug her nails in harder. “You..”

The sound of her voice brought his gaze back to hers with an intensity that froze her tongue. The gold of his dragon had fully bled into his eyes, and the sudden influx of magic in the room was warm and rough, but so welcoming her heart pounded loudly in her ears. The hold on her shirt eased, and for a long moment they stared at each other, something wonderful and terrible hovering between them. His lips parted, a flash of wild and coveting want flickering through his eyes, when the spelled alarm on her hip buzzed in warning. 

Enzo. 

His gaze narrowed, eyes dropping to her hip. “What…”

Caroline didn’t give him a chance to ask the question, taking advantage of his loosened hold on her to grip his wrist tightly and yank him off balance. He swore, but without her cloak to trap her, she was able to use his surprise against him and take out his legs. She barely managed to dodge his attempt to grab her as he went down, lunging past him towards the door. Desperation gave her speed, and testing the door one more time, to her shock it sprung open beneath her hands. Acting on instinct borne from a thousand heists, she grabbed what remained of her magic and slammed the stone door behind her. 

She couldn’t open doors like this easily, but she could lock them. Slapping her hand into the stone, Caroline shoved all the magic she had left into it, yanking the stone wall into the door to act as a crude lock. The full weight of the dragon she’d barely escaped slammed into it, and the lock cracked.  It wouldn’t hold it long. But she didn’t need long. Spinning on her heel, Caroline headed for her stairs, and took them at top speed. 

Behind her, the Dragon King roared and the castle shook with the force of it. In the distance, she could hear the clang of alarm bells but she didn’t slow. At her hip, the alarm stung in warning before going silent.

Damon was an ass and she was going to make him regret his extremely stupid life choices. To do that, she needed get out of the castle before the guards decided to torture her. But first, she needed to steal something.

And to that, she needed to take a small detour. 

Above her, the sounds of a door being smashed wide open echoed through the stairwell. Sliding through an opening door, she glanced down the hallway and took off running in the first open direction she found. Before she could steal, she needed to put some distance between her and the rampaging dragon behind her. 

Enzo was going to owe her so big. 

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 33 - The Sun’s Going Out

Author’s Note: Woo! Saturday again!

A warning that Adrien is not doing so well. He's struggling, and you may feel uncomfortable reading it. I want you all to prioritize your mental health over my story.

What's this? A strong language warning? It's been a while! 'Bullshit'.

Chapter Summary: Adrien is fine.

First | Previous | Next

“Alright Chloe,” Marinette says as she takes a seat across from the blonde, “What did you want to talk about?”

“I’ve been working on… a project. For a while now. Originally, I was going to talk to you about it in, like, November, but Adrikins and Sabrina both mentioned that you weren’t doing so well - ‘cause it was cold.” Chloe snaps her compact shut, putting it in her purse and looking at Marinette.

She clasps her hands together, placing them on the table and leaning forward seriously, “I’m starting a non-profit. For bullying. I want you to help me.”

Marinette is taken aback, this is certainly not what she expected. On reflex, she asks, “Why?”

“I know that I can never undo what I did, all those years, when we were kids, but I want to do something to make up for it,” Chloe looks away for a moment, “I did awful things, even when I was trying to be better,” she looks back at Marinette, “I let things with Lila get as bad as they did. I could have done something. I should have helped you before it got to the point it did. I’m so sorry for that. I could have spared you from… so much. It’s… I’m so sorry, Dupain-Cheng. For everything. So, I figured, there’s no use moping about it! I wanted to do something! So I figured… I can try to help? Help other people, and make something positive from all I did.”

Chloe looks down at the table. Marinette can only guess how badly she feels. The Chloe she knew would have never admitted she was wrong, have never tried to do anything like this.

This. This is... 

Amazing.

Marinette stands, rushing to hug Chloe tightly, “Oh, Chloe, that’s an amazing idea. I love it so much! Thank you! I’m so proud! You’ve become such an amazing person!”

Chloe blushes slightly, but eventually shoves the short girl away (gently), “Ugh, I know. Sit down like a civilized person, why don’t you?”

Marinette can tell from her tone that she’s not saying it in a mean way, just a Chloe way. Marinette smiles at her and sits down, ignoring the stares from the other people in the cafe.

She’s so proud.

“Anyways,” Chloe brings them back on track, “I’ve been working on setting it up for a while now. At first, I wasn’t even sure what I could do, but Sabrina suggested a non-profit, and then… well, yeah, here we are.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m not really sure, but this just seemed  like your sort of thing, because you know, you’re so you - one of those people that’s just good. It’s almost sickening how nice you are, honestly.”

“Thanks!”

Chloe glares at her. “See! You took that as a compliment! Ugh! You’re ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Whatever.” She flips her ponytail for effect, “It’s called Everyday Heroes, and it’s going to be focused on educating people on bullying and helping the victims. You could probably work as a speaker on bullying - if you are comfortable with that, of course - which would fall under the scope of ‘education’ I guess. Or just spread the word. If you can think of anything, I’m open to suggestions.”

Marinette hums, “I could do that. Need any help with fundraisers? I can help there too.”

Chloe brightens. “Yes! That’d be great!”

They talk a little longer on the non-profit, exchanging ideas and planning. After a moment, they pause. Chloe sips on her drink and looks at Marinette.

“So, I heard about Adrien. What Gabriel and Lila did…”

Marinette scowls, “Ugh, that.”

“Right?! The only reason that no one is doing anything is ‘cause he’s some dumb old white rich guy. Sabrina brought it up to her father, who brought it up with his superior, who threatened to fire him for even considering going after Gabriel. I mean, can you say ‘corruption’?” “He’s being completely isolated! Sure he’s around people, but they’re not good people-” Marinette pauses at this. She’d always insisted that the class was still good.

They are, right?

She knows they are, but Lila… Lila has twisted them into something dark.

Something bad.

“...good people for him, anyways. This is- this is-” She clenches her hands into tight fists, feeling her nails bite into her skin, “Ugh!” she growls.

She remembers herself. She can’t get mad. That’s not allowed. Not while Hawkmoth is still a threat.

“Come on Chloe, let’s go back to the bakery.” She stands, placing some money down to cover her drink.

“I guess I can go with you,” Chloe sighs.

Marinette smiles. When they get outside, she wrinkles her nose at the chill. She may not be at risk of hibernating anymore, but that doesn’t mean she has to like the cold.

Waving at Maman and Papa as she leads Chloe through the back, she marvel’s at how much has changed in just one year. Less than a year actually.

There’s the whole… Dupont mess. She doesn’t want to think about that.

Chloe though! Now she can bring her to the bakery and no one bats an eye because she’s not a bully anymore. She’s a friend!

“Okay, so I brought you here because I figured that you could help us out. We’re planning to take down Lila during the music comp-”

“I’m in!” Chloe interrupts immediately.

Marinette’s eyes twinkle in excitement, “I thought so. Give me a minute to get everything out.”

Chloe nods, taking a seat on the chaise.

Marinette buzzes about the room, taking out papers and lists. She takes a large rolled-up paper out from some corner, placing it near the pile she’s made as she goes to grab a few last things.

Returning to the mess, she sorts it seemingly at random, moving some this way or that after a quick glance. When there’s enough space cleared, she unrolls the biggest one, spreading it out across the floor.

It’s a schedule for Concours d'arts musicaux, as well as a map of Collège Françoise Dupont.

Marinette takes a sheet of paper from another pile, unfolding it to reveal a rather lengthy list titled ‘Lila’s Lies’. Some are highlighted.

As she makes a few final rearrangements, Marinette says, “Obviously we aren’t going to debunk everything, because we don’t have that much time, but we’re going to assume that the rest will fall if you give the push.”

Chloe gives her a flat look. “Really? You’re making quite the assumptions on their intelligence here.”

Marinette glares. “They’re smart people, Chloe. It’s not their fault they’ve been manipulated.”

“Smart? Sure, when I think ‘smart’ I think a guy with glasses thinking his eye could have been gouged out with a paper napkin.”

“Ignoring that, they’re smart people.”

“Sure. You tell yourself that Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe retorts.

Marinette ignores her. “Anyways, the current game plan is to get Jagged, Prince Ali, Mrs. Rossi in to debunk her lies there. We’ll also play parts of the recording from when she, uh, saw me at the museum-”

“I want to hear that.”

“Chloe, really, it’s fine,” Marinette tries to reassure her.

Chloe shakes her head. “Nope. I want to hear it.”

Marinette sighs, handing Chloe the phone so she can listen. The blonde looks furious by the end. Marinette cuts in before she can say more, “How about you use your anger constructively and help me finalize the plans for the competition?”

---

“... and after fencing you have a picnic date with your girlfriend. It will last at least four hours. To offset the time lost, you will have extra lessons for the next two weeks. Any further dates will do the same. Ms. Rossi is aware of this and has assured me she will plan accordingly. That is all, enjoy your breakfast, Adrien.”

“Yes, Nathalie,” Adrien says robotically. Turning to his plate he can’t even muster up the energy to be disappointed in the small portions. His old dietician had retired. The new one was trying his best to ‘go by the book’ and be very exact in his portions for someone of Adrien’s size and weight. Nevermind that the old one had noted that he seemed to have a ‘worryingly fast metabolism’ given how many calories he loses, and should be fed accordingly.

Nope. That didn’t matter.

Nothing matters in regards to Adrien Agreste.

He’s just some pretty toy for people to show off.

His plate is only half done, but suddenly he’s not hungry anymore. Finishing early gives him approximately ten minutes of free time, so he goes to his room.

In the past, he’d have used this time to play games or text his friends, but now?

Now he just goes to his bed, staring up at the ceiling and focusing on thinking of nothing at all.

Plagg has other plans.

“Kid, this isn’t healthy.”

“Plagg, everything has been properly planned out so that my physical health and wellbeing will be at their peak. I-”

“Well, firstly, that’s bullshit.”

“Such language is not befitting of the Agreste brand.”

“Well thank me I’m not a part of that. Neither are you. A family shouldn’t be a brand first, family second. Adrien, this isn’t healthy for you mentally or physically. It’s only been like a week of this, and you’re a completely different person. I’m worried about you, kid.”

Adrien sighs. He doesn’t have the energy to argue.

This is just his life now. Plagg should accept that - it takes less energy than to fight it.

“Your friends are trying their best to help you out, but Nathalie and Gabriel are playing interception big time. Felix’s appointments aren’t being prioritized-”

“It’s a waste of time anyways. Father wants me to be the perfect face for the Agreste brand. Perfection requires sacrifices, which I have to be willing to make,” Adrien’s voice cracks as he speaks.

Plagg nuzzles into him, trying to provide comfort as best he can. “You aren’t perfect. It’s just a fact of life. You shouldn’t have to be making these sorts of ‘sacrifices’.”

They lay like that for a while before there’s a knock on the door.

“Adrien. Your extra practice for Concours D'arts Musicaux begins soon. Your bodyguard is waiting for you, it is time to go.”

He can’t muster up the energy to call out his usual response, simply rising to grab his stuff and go. Plagg settles around his neck, hidden by the collar of his shirt.

As Adrien approaches the car, he sees the Gorilla give him a concerned look.

He’s fine.

The drive consists of silence. Adrien is sitting up straight and staring ahead of him blankly.

He’s fine.

They arrive, and he exits the car. He keeps his face passive and maintains perfect posture as he enters the building for practice. Adrien is fifteen minutes early as is expected of him. One must make a good impression for the first whole group practice.

He’s fine.

A soft touch to his arm alerts him that someone wishes to speak with him. Of course, he obediently turns to face them. He hopes he’s able to help, because the last thing he would want is his Father to find out he’d been useless.

He’s fine.

“Adrien?”

He finally registers the owner of the voice and touch. Allegra. She’s standing before him, holding a bag from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. She’s frowning, but it’s the first time in weeks he’s actually sure he didn’t do anything to cause it.

It’s a relief to not be a disappointment for once.

“How are you?” Her voice is still soft, gentle. It’s far from the monotones of those in the Agreste mansion.

“I’m fine.” It’s a reflex.

“No, honey.” She puts a gentle hand on his arm, a touch he could easily shake away if he wanted, “No you’re not.”

He screws his eyes shut, shaking his head desperately, and hugging her tightly. She returns the gesture, petting his hair and making comforting noises while leading him out of sight.

The last thing he needed was for someone to post a picture of The Adrien Agreste seemingly crying. Father would have his head.

It’s a few minutes before he finally lets go. He looks at the ground, “I’m s-”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she says immediately. The whole group has gotten quick with that response after being Marinette’s friend.

He remains silent, so she continues, “We figured out pretty quick that even with Felix trying to schedule appointments, they weren’t really making it a priority. He got a call that it had to be ‘postponed due to the prioritization of Adrien’s social life’. As if. How are you really? You look pale, honestly you shouldn’t be here if you’re sick.”

He sighs, “No, I’m just…” he hesitates, looking for the right word, “...tired. Father is really cramming in a lot.”

She looks at him suspiciously, “How are you food wise? That old man had better be feeding you.”

“Yeah, he’s feeding me.”

“But…?”

Adrien wonders if she’d care or not. Should he mention it?

Sure, the new dietician cut back on his food, but he hasn’t had much of an appetite anyways.

“I have a new dietician, so my portions have been reduced, but I haven’t really been hungry anyways,” he mutters.

She frowns, “We figured that you wouldn’t be eating enough. Mari sent food with me for you.” She shoves the bag towards him, “I’m under orders from all of them to make sure you eat at least one whole pastry.”

He smiles for the first time in…

How long had it been?

He ends up eating all the provided pastries, and she takes care of the trash for him, and they walk to the main room together.

---

Adrien has finished his homework. He’s done fencing. He’s reviewed Chinese.

He continues to mentally go over his day, assuring himself that he’s done all he’s supposed to, while intentionally ignoring the four hour (it lasted six by the end) date he’d gone on.

Except now he is.

Six hours with he-

No, not ‘her’. His girlfriend.

Just thinking it makes him feel nauseous. Gross. Filthy. Unclean.

He might actually be sick.

The whole thing was a nightmare. Sitting in a park with her. She was constantly touching him, leaning against him, running her hands through his hair.

He doesn’t want to think about how often she kissed him.

A soft knock at the window pulls him out of his thoughts.

Ladybug.

He hesitates. This-

“Kid, you haven’t been going on patrols. She’s got to be worried. Talk to her.”

Adrien had been avoiding Ladybug, even after the three akumas they’d had, he just… he had to get back to his schedule. There would be huge consequences if he went missing for too long. As for patrols - he just wanted to sleep.

He’s tired of being awake.

Plagg is right though, and he really does miss her.

He lets her in.

“Oh, my sweet prince…” Ladybug caresses his cheek, looking at him worriedly.

Adrien doesn’t say anything, just appreciating her company.

“Come on, let’s go. No patrol tonight, I just think you should get out of here.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug take off, and he’s content to follow her lead. He’s not entirely surprised when she lands on her balcony and releases her transformation.

He follows her inside.

“Do you want to detransform?” It’s a question, not an order. Despite that, he feels his ears droop in shame.

“No, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want to be Adrien right now.”

She smiles sadly, “That’s purr-fectly fine Kitty.”

He still feels bad, and- hey! “Did you just make a cat pun?” His ears and tail perk up.

She smirks, “Purr-haps.”

He grins, “I love you so much!” He rushes forward and picks her up, spinning her in circles. She giggles.

“Want to watch a movie? Or an anime? I have popcorn and pastries.”

“Yes.”

He sets her down and she carefully leads him up to the loft. A bowl of popcorn, a tray of sweet pastries, and her laptop are already there. She crawls to the end, holding her arms out to him.

Chat flops down next to her. She has him choose a movie, and they settle in.

It’s almost like a-

...a date.

Just like that he’s back at the park. That’s all it takes.

“Adri-love! There you are my sweet!”

Lila rushes up to him, not hesitating to kiss him dramatically.

“Hi,” he manages.

She frowns. “Oh no, what’s wrong? Normally, you’d call me something cuter.”

He can translate - cute nickname or else.

“I-I’m fine, my, uh, peacock.”

She pauses, then nods, accepting the name. She kisses him again, which he guesses is supposed to be a reward.

He feels sick.

Her hand grabs his, and she leads him towards the blanket she has set up in a secluded corner of the park. Normally, he’d be grateful that the usual paparazzi isn’t around, but he really wishes that someone - anyone - would be here.

He doesn’t want to be alone with her.

He doesn’t want to be with her, period.

“Chat? What’s wrong? You’re crying.”

Marinette.

He’s with Marinette.

He’s safe.

She’s already paused the movie and set everything aside. She brushes his hair aside, studying him.

“N-nothing,” he whispers.

“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you - your feelings matter. A very smart cat-boy told me that once.”

He wishes she’d hug him.

He’s relieved she doesn’t.

“I j-just, I had- I- a d-d-date tod-d-day…” he stutters. More tears threaten to fall, but he’s supposed to be perfect.

He hears a sharp intake of breath.

“Do you want a hug? Is touch okay?” She’s well aware of how Lila treats him, and doesn’t want to do anything he’s uncomfortable with.

You know, the way you treat people you care about.

Chat Noir hesitates. His day has been filled with nothing but touch so cold it burned, or the poisonous leaching from her.

Well, not quite only that.

He’d hugged Allegra. That had been nice. A warm hug, not burning, not freezing. Just… caring.

It’s only when he nods that she finally reaches out to him. Burrowing his face in her stomach to hide the tears, he finally lets himself cry softly.

Marinette doesn’t comment on the tears, or the quiet hiccuping of his sobs. She just pets his hair comfortingly.

“It’ll be alright, love. You’re okay, you’re safe. You are absolutely amazing. You’re my favorite person in the whole world - my kitty. Everything will be okay. I promise,” she murmurs. She continues to whisper quietly to him for sometime, eventually just humming a soft song.

It’s the calmest he’s felt all day.

A low purr stutters out of him, and he can tell she’s smiling, even if he can’t see her. He knows she wouldn’t tease him for crying in front of her, but her shirt smells like her, so he doesn't move.

He’s missed her so much.

---

Author’s Note: That child. I feel so bad. For those of you worrying, the competition is soon.

Wondering why Adrien called her a peacock? Well, I was looking for words that meant 'showy/conceited' and that was there. Not to mention one of the villains of Paris is a peacock.

So Chloe, huh? I've been planning this for a while. Like Chloe said, that meeting was originally planned for November.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

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[haberdashing]

Cohabitation

TMA fic inspired by real events. Statement of Quinn Morgan regarding their imaginary roommate.

on AO3

Statement of Quinn Morgan regarding their imaginary roommate. Original statement given September 13, 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

It all started as something of a joke, really. I’d call it an inside joke, but can you really call it that when you’re the only one in on it? I never thought it’d get so out of hand but, well, here we are.

See, my freshman year in college--university, I guess you’d call it?--my original roommate moved out to room with one of her friends instead. Not a big loss, really, she was always up later than me and was way more into the party scene than I’d ever be. Anyway, housing said they’d replace her, but spring semester came and went without me getting a roommate, which was fine by me. I liked the peace and quiet, liked having the extra space to myself, liked being able to come and go as I pleased.

Sophomore year, though, I knew that would all change. I hadn’t made much in the way of friends in my freshman year, and those I had made were generally male, which. Well. My own gender is more complex than checking off one of the usual two boxes, but to be fair to housing even I hadn’t realized that bit yet. Suffice it to say rooming with any of my guy friends simply wasn’t an option, at least not then and there.

So I went in for a random roommate. Housing said they’d paired me with someone, but didn’t pass along any details besides a phone number that gave me an error message when I tried calling it. Wasn’t sure what to expect when I got back on campus. Honestly, I was kind of scared they’d paired me with some weirdo, even though I suppose by that logic, I’d be “some weirdo” as well.

Whatever I was expecting, though, it wasn’t for move-in day to come and go without my roommate arriving.

I spent a couple days wondering if they’d just missed move-in day somehow, if they’d show up with no notice and start moving things in, but after a week I was starting to doubt that my roommate was ever going to show. I sent housing a vaguely-worded email asking about my roommate, but when they responded asking if there was a problem, I... I didn’t respond. I should have told them the truth of the situation, I suppose, but I figured what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and I’d enjoy what time I could with the room all to myself.

They stuck a little white-board outside the door of each dorm room for people to write their names, an easy way to introduce yourself to your neighbors, I guess. So I put my name on there--well, my deadname, since I was still using it at the time. And then after a bit of thought, I added the name Heather. I’d never known anyone named Heather, but I’d always thought it was a pretty name, maybe something I’d name a baby girl somewhere down the road. It was a normal enough name, too, one that wouldn’t raise eyebrows or get people asking too many questions. And this way, people passing by my dorm room wouldn’t know that I’d managed to nab a room by myself. Just me and Heather, two ordinary roommates in an ordinary dorm room, nothing to see there, definitely no great conspiracy to be unearthed.

Maybe if I’d stopped there, that’d be all it ever was, just a name on a sign that helped me fool housing into not forcing another roommate on me. But that was just the start of it.

See, I’d always fancied myself a bit of a writer, even though classes freshman year taught me well enough that while I enjoyed it at my own pace, it wasn’t something I’d want to major in, let alone get a career doing. So now that my supposed roommate had a name, I started thinking of her like just another character in one of my stories.

I gave her a full name, one generic enough that it could be the name of someone going to school here--Heather Anne Johnson, I settled on. I decided she’d transferred from another local school, one that some people joked didn’t exist because nobody ever met anyone from there despite them being one town over, though the real explanation was probably just that school being super small compared to us and a lot more religious to boot.

And then I went and made a Facebook profile for her, partly to flesh her out a bit and give me a place to put all these ideas for her I’d come up with, partly so if housing did come snooping around she’d seem more like a real student. The profile picture was a photo of a lilac bush I found on Google, I had “Heather” join the school page and a few others, she even shared a few memes I came across. If you did some research I’m sure you would’ve figured out that her life story only existed through that Facebook page, but at a glance I thought it’d seemed believable enough.

Apparently I was right about that bit, because when I checked on it a week later it had a few friend requests from actual students at my school. I think one of them shared a bio class with me, but I didn’t know any of them super well. I accepted all the requests, though, figured that’d just make the page seem that much more real. I updated it every couple days, too--not on any kind of a schedule, just when I was bored, which was pretty common.

I wasn’t the most social person... I’m still not, I suppose. But when it happened to come up in conversation, I’d tell whoever was asking that I had a roommate, maybe share her name and a few other tidbits about her (I’d decided she had brown hair, was kind of a neat freak, and was majoring in philosophy) if it seemed necessary. It’d all fall apart if anyone visited my dorm room--I hadn’t gone so far as to actually set up the other bed in the room or give “Heather” a separate living space--but nobody ever did. And housing never bothered me again after they responded to that one email of mine, so on that end, it worked just fine, I guess. Nobody suspected that I’d managed to get a room all to myself.

Heather kept getting friend requests from both people I knew and people I didn’t, as I’d post fairly generic status updates and share posts from other students, and at one point I realized my nonexistent roommate had more friends who went to school with me than I did, which... it’s sad, definitely, but I’m not sure whether it says more about how persuasive I was or how little of a social life I had. Probably a little of both.

Then one of my handful of friends from freshman year, Tyson Hunter, asked me about her, a couple weeks after I’d accepted his friend request on her profile. Said Heather had looked sad the last time he’d seen her, and he wanted to make sure she was doing okay.

Now, the one thing I’d never done is posted an actual picture of what Heather was supposed to look like. I’d replaced that lilac bush profile picture with a few other things--rainbows, cartoons, waterfalls, other flowers--but never any of an actual person. I knew I was crossing some lines here, but I wasn’t catfishing anyone at least. So there was no way Tyson could’ve seen what Heather looked like, because she didn’t look like anything, besides the vague descriptions I’d give whenever anyone asked.

Maybe I should’ve told the truth then. Tyson’s a good guy--a smart-ass sometimes, sure, but a nice enough person--and I doubt he’d have ratted me out to housing if I’d just come clean then and there. But now that it came up, I felt kind of weird about having not let him know in the first place, and I didn’t want to just up and confess.

So instead, I just asked some questions, trying not to seem as confused as I really was. What did he mean, “the last time he’d seen her”? When was that? Where was that?

And Tyson said he’d seen her in the halls of the philosophy building the day before, and she kept looking down at the floor and biting her lip, and she looked like she was trying to hold back tears.

I changed the subject after that, because... because it was weird, and because obviously he’d just bumped into some random student who happened to resemble how I’d described Heather and assumed it was her. Which was awkward, given the reality of the situation, and meant that some random brunette had been near tears yesterday, but even if I’d wanted to track down this supposedly-Heather, it’s a big school, that’d take forever. So I tried to just move on and forget about that.

A couple days later another friend of mine, Jack Murphy, said that that roommate of mine, Heather, was, and I quote, “a total hottie”, and was she single, because if so he was interested.

I blurted out that sure, she was single, before actually thinking through my response. I assumed Jack must have mistaken some other student for Heather like Tyson did, and asked where he’d seen her?

Jack’s answer wasn’t as clear as Tyson’s had been. He just said he’d seen her “around” a bunch of times, and that she was cute, that he liked her freckles and her dimples and the way her glasses framed her deep brown eyes. Which... I had decided she had brown eyes, actually, but I was pretty sure I hadn’t mentioned that to anyone because who just casually brings up their roommate’s eye color in a conversation?

So one of my friends was drooling over a girl that he thought was the roommate I didn’t actually have. Great.

I think it was when Jack asked if I could set him up with Heather that I realized I was in way too deep.

I told him I’d talk to her about it, but no promises, and then I went to my dorm room and saw the bare bed next to mine and just... just burst out laughing, because all this was ridiculous, really.

This was all during finals week, by the way, which... probably didn’t help my test scores any, but it did mean winter break was right around the corner, so I just stalled Jack until then, figured I could figure out what to tell him about my roommate that didn’t exist over the break.

That winter break was... intense. It’s when I realized I was nonbinary, for one thing, and when my parents sprung on me that they were getting a divorce, for another. So I didn’t have that much time to think about the whole Heather thing. But the couple of times I checked her Facebook profile, a few people had sent messages about sharing classes with Heather--one from some upper-level philosophy class, one from contemporary world history, and two from intro to psych. All things that were probably the sort of classes she’d take if, you know, she took classes at all.

I ignored the messages, and when winter break was up and I met up with Jack again, I told him I hadn’t had time to talk things over with Heather yet, which, well, technically not a lie, right? Jack gave me a folded-up piece of paper and said to pass it along to Heather, let him know what her reaction was.

I just... I just nodded and went along with it. I didn’t look at the thing. I was sure it was a confession of love, or bad love poetry, or something else of the sort, and I really didn’t want to read any of that. I just tucked the piece of paper into my pocket, and when I got back to my dorm room that night, I chucked it onto the bare, empty bed that would be Heather’s if she existed, before going to sleep.

The next day, after going to classes and eating dinner with Tyson, I noticed that the piece of paper wasn’t where I’d thrown it on the empty bed anymore. After a bit of searching, I found that it hadn’t just fallen off, but had somehow ended up in my garbage bin. I opened it, then, and from what I could make out it was exactly the sort of thing I’d expected, a nicely-worded letter asking one Heather Johnson on a date, but what stood out most was the big X drawn to cover nearly the entire page in what looked like red Sharpie.

All of that’s weird, of course, but the part that stuck out to me was that I didn’t even own a red Sharpie, or a red marker for that matter, just a single black Sharpie and a lot of pens and pencils. I figured the rest could be chalked up to- to sleepwalking, or some sort of mental break, or something, but there was no way I could’ve put that big red X on there.

Things kept getting weirder from there, but from the end of January on it, it kind of starts to blur together in my mind. The Facebook account I’d made for Heather started having friends I didn’t remember adding, even a few that weren’t students at the school I went to. Jack came to me red-faced one evening saying that he’d asked Heather about the note he’d written for her and she’d laughed in his face, and it’d been right in front of the cafeteria so half the school saw. Tyson kept asking me questions about Heather’s new boyfriend. Heather’s Facebook account suddenly said that she had a new boyfriend, which I certainly hadn’t put there. (Aaron, I think his name was? Aaron Masters, maybe? I, I didn’t look into it that closely. Think I was a bit scared to look too close, honestly.) I got a noise complaint from a night I hadn’t even been in my room, since I’d pulled an all-nighter in the library just before a big midterm. My parents asked questions about that nice girl they heard in the background of all my phone calls. I kept finding garbage in my bin that I was sure wasn’t mine, like- like a bag of salt and vinegar chips, when I hate those...

Eventually I just broke down. Jack asked me something about Heather--I don’t even remember what he asked now--and I just snapped at him that Heather wasn’t real, I didn’t have a roommate, I made her up and I didn’t get why everybody was just going along with it so much, so stop asking about my imaginary roommate already!

He’d stared at me for a long minute before just shaking his head and saying that it wasn’t funny, that I could do a lot better than that if I was trying to mess with his head.

I hadn’t even realized it was April Fools’ Day.

I snapped at Tyson the day after, though, and then my parents later that evening, and I think that’s when everybody realized it wasn’t just a joke or a prank or whatever, that something was seriously wrong.

The rest of April was... well. I got pulled out of school, thrown in a psych ward for a bit, and then forced into a lot of therapy when I got home. Because everybody thinks I’m the crazy one here, everybody thinks Heather’s real and I’m the weird one for thinking she’s not. But I swear I’m sane! I mean, I got diagnosed with ADD as a kid, and I’ve kind of suspected I might have some kind of social anxiety for a while now, but nothing where I’d have any sort of break with reality like that.

Heather Anne Johnson was a name I assigned to a roommate I didn’t have. She never existed. Except- except everybody thinks she did, now. Everybody except me, anyway.

I’m taking what I’m calling a gap year, though I think usually that’s for when you do it before college, not right in the middle, but it sounds nice at least. Told my parents I thought backpacking across Europe would be good for me, help me get back in touch with the world around me. And some of that was true, but really I just wanted to put as many miles between me and my old school, between me and Heather, as I could.

I’ve been trying to avoid information about her now, but in the middle of June I tried logging into her old Facebook profile, just for shits and giggles, and I couldn’t. The password I’d used for the account for all those months didn’t work anymore. And my computer had saved it, so I wasn’t just typing it in wrong, either.

And around the end of August I checked her profile, thinking about how it’d been almost a year since Heather first came to be and how much had changed since then, and I saw Heather had posted a status just a few days before saying that she was excited to start her junior year of school and meet her new roommate.

I don’t know what good telling you my story will do. You probably won’t believe it any more than the therapists and psychiatrists all did. But I want it on record somewhere, anyway. Because I keep thinking about that latest status update. Keep thinking that whoever Heather’s new roommate is, they’re in for one hell of a time, if they exist any more than she does.

Keep thinking maybe things could have gone even worse for me than they did, in the end.

I think however this gap year of mine ends, it won’t be with me going back to school there. The last thing I want is to hear about someone else’s run-ins with the roommate I invented.

Statement ends.

[anistarrose]

To See The Unseen - Ch. 2 (Gravity Falls)

Summary: Stan meets the mirror’s creator.

Warnings: a very brief description of a dead animal, and a character being hospitalized (no character death)

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/20884673/chapters/49642817

Big thanks to @apathetic-revenant for betaing this chapter!

***

“I’ve never been more ready to go to bed in my life,” Wendy groaned as she led the way back to the Mystery Shack. “You think Stan will mind if I crash on your couch for a couple hours? My brothers will be awake and screaming their heads off by the time I get home.”

“Yeah, he probably won’t mind,” Dipper replied. “Just be sure to tell him we were camping. He’ll go ballistic if he found out we almost died in the Author’s doomsday bunker.”

“But only because he cares about us,” Mabel spoke up. Her sweater was still slightly damp, and she shivered in the brisk early morning breeze. “I mean, if I was him and you guys told me you fought a shapeshifter in a fallout shelter, I’d go ballistic too!”

“You WHAT?!” Stan gasped. “What did I tell you just the other day about looking for trouble with the Journal?!”

The kids kept walking, passing straight through him. Mabel shivered again, but other than that, they gave no sign of having heard his outburst.

“Even if I have been a hypocrite about it…” Stan whispered.

Wendy squinted at the Shack, raising a hand to shade her eyes from the morning sun. “Hey, am I so tired I’m hallucinating, or is that Blubs and Durland on the porch?”

“Oh, great. What did Stan do this time?” Dipper mumbled. “Hey, Soos, you should probably hide that laptop from them —”

“Pines kids!” Durland shouted. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here! Something terrible has happened!”

Soos, Wendy, and the twins stared at him with glazed-over, sleep-deprived eyes.

“You need us to… help solve a mystery?” Dipper asked.

“A murder mystery?” Mabel echoed, rubbing her eyes. “We have a kind-of-okay track record with those…”

“Whatever it is, I have an alibi,” Wendy muttered.

Blubs stepped forward, gaze fixed on the floorboards. “It’s about… it’s about your uncle.”

“Shit,” Stan mumbled. “Kids, whatever they say happened, I promise it’s not actually that bad —”

His voice cut off. Was that even true? He didn’t know a single thing about what being trapped in this gray mirror world meant for him — it easily could be not just ‘that bad,’ but even worse.

“Is Mr. Pines okay?” Soos asked. “What happened?!”

“He’s in the hospital. Dan Corduroy found him in the forest this morning, and… well, I’m no doctor, but apparently he didn’t seem injured and his vitals were all A-okay. He just… won’t wake up no matter what anyone tries.”

Mabel gasped, and Soos covered his mouth.

“Do — do you know how it happened?” Dipper stammered. “Was it one of the anomalies? How long has he been unconscious?”

Blubs sighed. “I’m so sorry, Dipper, but I don’t know a single thing. You know what — here, get into the squad car. I’ll drive you to the hospital so you can see him.”

Stan drifted after his family, watching as they piled into the police car. Mabel stared out the window, quieter than Stan had ever seen her before, while Dipper buried his nose in Journal 3, frantically flipping through pages so quickly he gave himself a paper cut.

“It’ll be alright,” Mabel told him without making eye contact. “The doctors will figure something out.”

“But what if they don’t?” Dipper asked. He didn’t seem to have even noticed his finger was bleeding. “What if medicine can’t help him, because it’s supernatural?” he continued in a voice barely above a whisper. “There’s no info about anything like this in the Journal — but if only I had the other volumes, then maybe they’d have something that could help. Something about how to cure him…”

“Oh, Dipper,” Stan murmured. “It just got me into this mess in the first place…”

***

Pacifica lay in bed, half-awake, for longer than usual that morning, until the sound of a servant knocking on her door startled her, and she finally crawled out from under the satin sheets. It took a few seconds of staring at the compact mirror resting atop her dresser before the events of the past night rushed back to her, and she shuddered.

The mirror still gave her bad vibes, even in broad daylight and outside of the infamously unnerving Gravity Falls forest. It reminded her of certain taxidermy-filled rooms of the mansion, especially the allegedly haunted one — there was just a sort of chill in the air around it, just barely subtle enough for you to convince yourself it was only your imagination acting up.

Even though she hadn’t changed out of her nightgown yet and would’ve looked ridiculous had anyone been around to see her, Pacifica put on a pair of gloves before opening the mirror. She was still going against both her gut feeling and basic common sense by examining the artifact at all, but she knew that if she hid it away now, there would eventually come a day when she grew so bored, she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation any longer.

Despite bracing herself for the worst, nothing cataclysmic happened when she opened the mirror — no swarms of insects flew out, no bolts of dark magic incinerated her, and as far as she could tell, no deadly plagues seemed to be released into the world.

But although it wasn’t quite the Pandora’s Box she’d been expecting, it was most definitely supernatural. The mirror reflected everything in grayscale, except for her own body, which glowed blue. And the picture below…

Surprisingly, it looked incomplete. A broad-shouldered silhouette dressed in dark clothing stood in front of a row of trees, that much was clear, but most of the details were missing, especially around the completely blank area where a face should’ve been.

“Well, that’s freaky…” Pacifica was about to rummage through the contents of her desk, looking for a magnifying glass to examine the portrait more closely, when her maid knocked on her door again, and she reflexively snapped the mirror closed.

“Remember, your dance tutor will be arriving at ten o’clock sharp! You’d best be eating breakfast soon, unless you want to be late!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” Pacifica called back, shoving the mirror under her pillow as she hastily selected a dress from her closet and a necklace from her jewelry box before rushing to the bathroom. “I’ll be back for you,” she whispered to the mirror.

The mirror didn’t reply, but had it still been opened, Pacifica might’ve noticed that the portrait was ever-so-slowly growing closer to completion, adding a tie to the figure’s sharp black suit.

***

After a few minutes of asking the doctors one question after another, none of which they were able to answer, Dipper threw a glass of cold water in his face, adjusted his hat, and declared that he was off to investigate the place where Stan had been found, hoping to find some evidence that would lead to a cure. Wendy quickly announced she was going with him, which didn’t surprise Stan — he knew she’d never been fond of hospitals.

Figuring it would be smart to stay close to his body in case of a breakthrough, Stan didn’t follow Dipper and Wendy as they left, but still he overheard Dipper muttering to himself:

“I need to find the other Journals. One of them must have the answer to getting him back, somehow…”

“Come on, kid,” Stan whispered. “Don’t you go down this road too. It’s no fun to live your life like this, trust me…”

Mabel pulled her chair right up next to Stan’s hospital bed, and leaned up against him, burying her head in his spare pillow. Soos sat on the other side of the room, half-heartedly flipping through hospital-provided health magazines and flinching almost every time Stan’s heart monitor beeped. Like Pacifica, neither of them had reacted to the pale blue glow that Stan could see coming from beneath his body’s half-closed eyelids.

He tried to give Mabel a reassuring pat on the back, to no avail. Her breathing slowed as his hand passed through her shoulder, and for a second he was afraid he’d hurt her somehow, but then she began to snore quietly, and he realized she’d just fallen asleep.

“What am I gonna do, Soos?” Stan asked. “I can’t get back in my body, I can’t tell you what happened, I can’t even let you know I’m okay…”

A new, terrifying realization dawned on him. “I can’t operate the portal! I was so close to getting Ford back, so goddamn close! But how am I going to save him if I’m trapped in this mirror world?!”

“You could always do what he did, and get a little help from a friend!”

The voice wasn’t spoken out loud as much as it resonated in Stan’s mind, high-pitched and echoing in a way that made his nonexistent ears ache. He was also pretty sure he’d heard it before, even if he hadn’t been in the most coherent state at the time.

“I swear,” he growled, “if I turn around and see that screaming geometry dipshit from my nightmare last week, I’m gonna puke ghost guts all over that one-eyed piss-yellow triangular ass of his.”

The being behind him began to clap. “Go ahead and turn around, then! I’d love to see it!”

Stan turned, and sure enough, found himself facing a one-eyed, piss-yellow, triangular entity.

“Well? Where’s the ghost puke you promised me?”

“Shut the fuck up, Bill. That is your name, right? I gotta be sure you know exactly how much I hate your dumb whiny voice in particular.”

“Read about me in Fordsy’s journal, did you?” Bill asked, twirling his cane.

Stan raised a hand to his ear. “Huh, what’s that noise? ‘Cause it definitely isn’t a first grader’s math homework shutting the fuck up, that’s for sure!”

Bill let his cane go flying out of his grip and through the nearest wall, disappearing from view for a moment before popping back into existence in his other hand. “Oh, Stanley, Stanley, Stanley. I’m here to help you, just like I helped Sixer! So let’s not say anything we’ll end up regretting later —”

“Too late.” The cocky grin disappeared from Stan’s face as he made a fist. “No one calls Ford ‘Sixer’ but me, and you’re really gonna regret mixing that one up if I have anything to say about it.”

“Oh, my bad!” Bill shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to slight your precious sibling relationship, which you both clearly value SO much! If only I could make it up to you by… I dunno, saving you from ETERNAL IMPRISONMENT?!”

“I’ve broken out of prison in three different countries, I’ll be fine on my own. Also, I know you tried to hurt my family when you all went off on your wild goose chase through my mind — and call me overprotective of those kids if you want to, but in my book, that’s a pretty good reason not to make any dark magical contracts with you.”

For the first time, Bill looked genuinely looked caught off guard by one of Stan’s comebacks. “You were conscious for that? You know what, forget it. I —”

“Well, I mean, I was asleep — but I was definitely dreaming about you getting your ass kicked.”

“I said FORGET IT!” Bill snapped.

“Touchy subject, eh?”

“It was in the past! It doesn’t matter anymore!” Bill shouted. “You need my help and my deal now, Stanley Pines, and there’s no way around it!”

Stan floated lower, until he was able to roughly approximate sitting at the foot of the bed. “Well, looks like I’ve got all day to kill and nothing better to do. I’m not gonna listen, but you might as well start making your case anyway.”

Bill’s eye narrowed with glee, and he began to chuckle to himself, then cackle louder and louder until it felt like his laughter would never stop echoing inside Stan’s head.

“Here’s the thing, Stanley — you really don’t have all day at all! In fact, you have…”

With a burst of flame, he summoned a ticking gold pocketwatch in his hand. “Exactly twelve hours and two minutes!”

“Until what? I’m not gonna fold and cut a deal with you just because of a vague threat and a time limit — that’s like, even more basic than Manipulation 101.”

Bill laughed, and his pocketwatch cooed like a cuckoo clock as an avian skeleton sprung out of the hole in the center. “Twelve hours until your body stops breathing, obviously! It’ll be real sudden, too — no time for the doctors to switch you over to life support before your brain runs out of oxygen!” One of his arms extended as he reached over to Stan, rapping him on the skull. “Then again, I’m not sure you’re getting much blood flow up there in the first place. Certainly less than old Fordsy —”

“Why should I believe you?” Stan asked. “If I was a math nerd’s demonic fever dream, I’d be making up bullshit life-or-death ultimatums left and right. Who would be be dumb enough to make a bargain with me otherwise?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. But to answer your question, just look at your own eyes, down there in your body! They’re not even glowing half as bright as when you first got flipped into the mindscape, and they’re only gonna keep getting dimmer until the connection’s gone altogether!”

Bill snapped his fingers, summoning a plume of blue flame in which an image of the mirror flickered into existence. “When that portrait in the compact is completed, exactly twenty-four hours from the moment you entered the mirror, you’ll be severed from the living world forever — and that’s not all! Your soul gets trapped inside that musty old picture to rot and fester until either someone new scries with the mirror, or eternity itself comes grinding to a halt at the end of the world! That’s the beauty of it: you get to be all-seeing — almost like me! — for exactly one day, but once that’s over, all you’ll ever see again is the inside of a closed compact!”

The image in the flames faded away as they swirled around Bill’s hand, which he extended in Stan’s direction. “But I can put you back in your body, and send the mirror’s previous prisoner back into the painting instead! I can save you, just like I saved your brother! Whaddya say?”

“Yeah, of course,” Stan answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “All makes perfect sense to me. You just so happen to be the world’s leading expert on cursed mirror and equally cursed painting combos!”

“Well, why wouldn’t I be? I helped make the thing, after all!”

“Oh, did you? That explains why holding it instantly reminded me of my deep hatred for trigonometry.”

Bill ignored him. “You know, your brother wasn’t the only mortal I’ve been a Muse to! He was just the only one in recent memory who was actually USEFUL. I’ve appeared before countless pupils over the years, looking for someone who’d be smart, ambitious, and not to mention gullible enough to help me fulfill my vision — but before Six-Fingers, everyone fell short. And worse — some of them wouldn’t stop summoning me even after I’d given up on them! They kept asking me inane questions about the beginning of the universe and the meaning of life!”

His triangular body turned bright red and the flames surrounding him roared as he continued: “Life doesn’t HAVE a meaning! Humanity was put on the planet to reproduce, die, and make meaningless philosophical arguments in a desperate attempt to convince themselves that morality and ethics are worth anything in the callous void that is existence — what else did they want me to tell them?! Some saccharine bullshit about being born so they could make the world a better place?”

“So you got fed up, and made the mirror to trap one of your ex-pawns?” Stan asked.

The flames disappeared, and Bill seemed to calm down, turning yellow again. “You catch on faster than I thought you would! I tricked one of my most insufferable pupils into creating it, and sure enough, he hasn’t bothered me since!”

“So when Ford tried to scry with the mirror thirty something years ago, he freed that guy’s ghost — but you still thought Ford would still be useful, didn’t you?” Stan tried to keep his voice calm, but he was starting to get a good idea of just who had driven Ford to such paranoia and desperation thirty years ago, and he was fuming inside. “So you freed Ford by switching his place with the ghost of that first guy you trapped.”

“Exactly!” Bill cheered, rubbing his hands together. “And I can do the same for you — just give me the word, and you’ll be back in your body before you know it!”

“Let’s imagine a parallel universe where I was a dumbass and I did take your deal. What other conditions would you be hiding in the fine print?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be hiding it! I’d actually be rather upfront, just like I’m being right now!” Bill smacked Stan on the head with a roll of paper, which unfurled to reveal a document titled CONTRACT.

“All I’d ask is for you do owe me one tiny favor down the line — a chance for me to borrow your restored body for a few hours when the right moment rolls around! I mean, you’ve coped without it for this long — what’ll one more brief stint in the mindscape be to a pro like you?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to say FUCK NO to that. I know you’re used to dealing with my brother, the most gullible genius on the planet, but while he may have all the brains, I have some actual goddamn common sense.”

“But — but don’t you want to open the portal?” Bill asked him, a little too quickly. “I’d like to see you try and operate it without your body!”

“Well, yeah — but are you really expecting me to be able to activate it all on my own? Even with all the journals, I’ve still got no idea what I’m doing,” Stan lied. “I could just as easily flip the thing’s self-destruct switch as I could find the right settings to bring Ford back. I’ll feel guilty if I can’t at least try, but… it was a hell of a long shot in the first place. I accepted that a long time ago, even if I don’t like to admit it.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Bill shouted. “The thing doesn’t even HAVE a self-destruct switch! I — I could even sweeten the deal, if you want! I could help you turn it on! This has been thirty years in the making — you can’t just give up on it now! Also, did I forget to mention YOUR ETERNAL FUCKING IMPRISONMENT and SLOW, PAINFUL CORRUPTION INTO A REVENGE-BENT MONSTER?!”

Okay, so Bill really wants the portal activated for some reason, Stan thought to himself. Interesting.

Out loud, he told Bill: “I’ve been messing around with too much shit that I don’t understand since before you even showed up. I’m not adding a deal with a demon to that list, and that’s final. Besides, you’re forgetting that the kids will probably figure something out. They always do.”

“Well, that sure is a cute sentiment!” Bill shot back. “But you’re already as good as dead to them, Stanley. They can’t see you, they can’t hear you — and soon enough, if you don’t do something, they won’t be able to feel your heart beating in your body anymore either!”

“Oh, I do plan on doing something,” Stan replied with a straight face. “It just won’t be the something you want me to do.”

“My offer still stands!” Bill shouted as he disappeared in a burst of blue flames. “Just call my name once it sinks in how doomed you are without me, and I’ll be right there to shake your hand and seal the deal!”

Mabel, still asleep next to Stan’s body, let out a deep sigh as Bill vanished, but otherwise didn’t react to their conversation. She was hugging Stan’s arm and clutching handfuls of the bedsheet like it were the lifeline tying Stan to the world, and if only she held on tight enough, she’d be able to drag him back.

And maybe, in a roundabout way, she could.

“Bill said I’m all-seeing like him until my twelve hours are up,” Stan explained to her, even knowing it wouldn’t be heard. “So if you’ll bear with me here, Mabel…”

He placed his hand over her forehead, and closed his eyes.

“I’m gonna see if I can haunt dreams like him too.”

***

Pacifica’s dance lesson dragged on for over an hour, showing no signs of coming to an end until she claimed to be experiencing a dehydration-induced dizzy spell and her instructor reluctantly excused her, probably fearing a lawsuit. She headed back to her room right away, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her pillow — and the mirror beneath it — hadn’t been disturbed. She was going to have to find a better hiding place for it soon.

As she pulled out a map of the mansion, trying to think of nooks and crannies that no one ever checked, a thud from the hallway made her jump. She almost brushed it off, chalking it up to her imagination, when she heard it again, and then a third time, growing louder with each repetition.

It didn’t sound like footsteps — or at least, not the footsteps of any human. If anything, it sounded like solid stone was striking the hallway’s hardwood floor.

Pacifica watched, frozen in place, as a veil of smoke materialized around her doorknob, twisting it counterclockwise degree by degree as the door ever-so-slowly swung open —

And then she laughed, because what she was seeing in the hallway couldn’t have been further from the monster she’d been expecting.

“You’re a statue,” she snickered, and her visitor’s stone eyes lit up red.

Oh, but not just any statue, a voice boomed from inside the familiar face that had once watched over the town square. I’m Gravity Falls’ very own Nathaniel Northwest!

***

(End notes:)

I was very excited for this chapter since I don’t write a whole lot of Stan and Bill interacting (outside of Some Sunny Day, which was a whole different beast altogether). And sure enough, I had a ton of fun with Stan’s dialogue, which led to this chapter being about a thousand words longer than expected.

Anyways, comments/reblogs are appreciated as always!

[gloves94]

The Munter [Paul McCartney] 4

Warnings: None Pairings: Paul McCartney/OC Summary: Sage O'Shea is a hardworking woman of the 1960's. A strange combination of brains and- well- Let's just say she is not your average beauty. Au contraire she's a Munter. John bets Paul that he wouldn't dare date such a monstrous woman. Despite his best judgement Paul agrees and takes John on his daring bet. Will Paul be able to see Sage's true beauty? What's going to happen when poor Sage finds out about their nasty bet? Whether the results are pretty or not- one thing I can say is love works in mysterious ways.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

4. The Offer

Friday, November 22nd, 1963

Yes.

It had been possible.

Paul had been shamelessly flirting with her and she had been right to mistrust him. It had all started with the influence of the most troublesome band member corrupting the most impressionable one.

"Didn't know you fancied Brian's little gargoyle," John teased. "Got her a little gift and everything," John Lennon chuckled maliciously as he spun on Brian's desk chair childishly. Opposite of him Paul sat on a sofa chair with his legs crossed. He was calmly reading the newspaper. The small box white box he had gotten his accountant sat on the coffee table at his side.

"Oh, sod off," Paul responded mindlessly under his breath as he flipped a page of the paper. Unluckily for Paul McCartney, John was very bored this morning. "Is it the glasses? That beasty hair mane? The caterpillar brows?" Paul lowered his paper to look at his best mate who was leaning across the desk wiggling his eyebrows. He looked at John with a bored expression and shook his head.

"John, leave her be," Paul sighed.

"John, leave her be," John retorted in a mocking tone as he babbled like the buffoon he was. Sometimes Paul didn't understand why John had been baptized as the "Smart Beatle". He could be so obnoxious sometimes.

"There you go again defending the Four Eyes," John taunted.

"Why?" Paul glared. "Why are you so fixated on her appearance?" He frowned as he put his newspaper down. The edge of John's lips curled

"Ah, I know what you're doing Macca. See I think what you're doing is very clever."

"And what exactly am I doing?" Paul arched an eyebrow.

"You're buttering up the little monster so she can do your bidding. Clever man. I hope you can pull some strings for me, eh Paulie."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Paul rolled his eyes as he returned his attention to the day's dull news. "Oh yeah?" John's voice dripped like honey as he sought out the best way to stir the pot to push all of Paul's hot buttons. "But wouldn't it just be grand?" He pressed on. "I can't stand the thought of having to cut my budget. And it won't be long before she's bossing us around on Brian's behalf. Breathing down our necks. Locking us up for the weekend with a ball and chain!" He declared dramatically.

"She'll be a bug John, but it's her job," the other shrugged.

"You see I - I need to keep my affairs in order." John tossed a pencil against the desk and looked terribly smug.

Again Paul lowered his paper. This time he ripped a page out.

"Which ones? Financial or romantic you swine?" Paul said as he crumbled up the paper ball and threw it at John hitting him on the head.

"Both," Lennon replied shamelessly with an eat-shit grin.

"You're a pig Lennon, and Cyn- she's expecting."

"It’s not the same when they are expecting. Everything changes. All she does is bitch and bitch and bitch. You’d think I married a mouth instead!" John laughed. Paul once again rolled his eyes.

"Enjoy it while you can- and always - alwayscarry a rubber with you!" John gave Paul an unwanted penny for his thoughts. Paul shook his head and stood up ready to leave the room and maybe flirt with that new blonde girl just to kill time.

"Wait! I just had the grandest idea!" John exclaimed as he snaked around the desk like the vile creature he is and stood before Paul blocking his way out. "Bet you can't seduce the Munter," he slapped his friend's arm. "Oh I bet you!" He said giddily.

Paul scoffed. Please.

"I'd be a ball. She'd do whatever you say. We'd have her under our thumb!"

It was ridiculous. It was incredulous. John had to be joking. Both laughed at John's ridiculous proposal. "Very funny you git," Paul laughed.

"Unless- you don't think you can?" John pressed with a mischievous glint on his eyes. This struck a chord in Paul. John knew exactly what he was doing how he was riling his best friend up.

"Can't? Of course, I can," Paul said smugly puffing up his chest. "Would I?" he huffed. "Not in a million years. I'm not the one that needs glasses Lennon."

"Why don't you do it?" Paul suddenly shot back. Slapping his best mate's arms back. "You seem to have a bitching good time doing it to others."

"Paul, I'm a married man," John opened his arms innocently as he retreated back to Brian's desk chair.

"Alright mate, you're only married when it suits you."

"But which one of the Fabulous Four would have the greatest success? I am after all loyally committed," He stuck out his wedding band finger. "Ringo is not even half as charming as you are- and well George is well George." Lennon shrugged.

"John," Paul found himself almost magnetized as he retreated back to his original seat. "She's a little- alright - she's hardon the eyes. I'd be monstrous to do something so horrid to her – to anyone."

"Fine, if not you. I guess I'll just have to find somebody else," John tempted as he spun in his chair with an innocent façade. "Unless, of course, you don't think you can tame the wildebeest." John chuckled quietly, his light brown eyes lingering on his bandmate.

The gears in Paul's brain quickly ticked and turned and taken over by his weak male ego he grinned. "Alright then. What's in it for me then?"

"What do you want? Money? I'll wear drag for a week if you want," John chuckled. "Anything you want Paulie."

It was then that his conscience got the best of him.

"No John. We can't do this," Paul hesitated.

"Why not?" John said a bit too quickly. He had been so close to getting Paul wrapped in his evil scheme.

"What if- what if I'm not her type?" Paul sought out an excuse out of this sure to be mess. It was wrong. It was unethical. It was a horrid thing to do to anyone. "What if she rejects me?" He deadpanned.

"Oh, so you are interested then?" John grinned. The other sighed. "Oh, You dirty dog!" John slapped his palms on Brian's desk.

"John!" Paul exclaimed. "Just what had he gotten himself into. She's a Munter," he whispered in an agitated hiss. Even if it was only the two of them in the room. "I-I can't even picture myself holding her hand!"

"Do you want to?" John poked.

"Want to what?"

"Hold her hand?"

Paul rolled his eyes.

"Let's shake on it then," John stretched out his hand. He truly was the devil and not in disguise. His hand was even twitching with eagerness.  "Let's be real, you'd be doing her a favor. You paying attention to her would be the grandest thing to ever have happened in her sad little life. You know what? We'll do this for fun, bet you can't get the gargoyle to fall in love with you." John laughed.

It was childish. It was so unnecessary. How old were they again? Did they not have anything better to do?

But it hurt Paul's pride. He knew he could. Girls of all ways of life practically threw themselves at him. What would make this one any different? It would be easy. Besides, he was never one to back down from a challenge.

Paul should've thought about it a little more. Should've been more empathic more mature about the entire ordeal.

"You're on mate," he slapped his palm on John's.

Saturday, November 22, 1963

I swung my bag over my shoulder as I made my way home. On my other hand I my heavy messenger bag now loaded with George and Ringo’s accounting paperwork.

“Sage!” I turned around and stopped dead in my tracks. It took only a moment for a person to tackle me into an aggressive embrace. “Thank you!” Isabel shouted into my ear. “You saved my life!” She exclaimed as I had to pry her arms from around me.

"Not your life, just your job," I clarified in a bored tone.

"Still!" She insisted reaching for my hands.

"Why did you do it?" She asked the million-dollar question, her brown eyes wide.

I shrugged. Maybe it had been Ringo’s expression. Maybe it had been the desperation in the woman’s eyes who knows. I mean I’m not the devil, it wouldn’t have made me a better person.

I simply shrugged and turned away.

"I'm sorry!" Isabel called out as I walked away.

Xxx

"Mum! I'm home!" I called once I arrived home, but surprisingly mother wasn't home. "Odd..."

I made my way to the living room and began to play an old Sinatra record and just momentarily unwind. Throwing the bag with all the paper work to the sofa with an exhausted sigh. You'd think a girl would catch a break on the weekends. I fished out the little paper where Paul had neatly written his phone number and address. “’To the loveliest vision," the other note that had been found alongside the gift was burning in the pages of the diary I kept in my night stand's drawer. I didn't dare ask if he had written that or even what it meant. So I decided to phone him, it wasn't late enough that I would inconvenience him or early enough that he might be out an about. I toyed with the phone cord nervously as it dialed. It was then that a voice much to gruff to belong to the Cute Beatle picked up on the other line. "Hello?"   "Hello," I retorted politely. "Hi- Good evening. Is Paul there?" The line went dead with a ring. I looked at the phone confused before once again dialing hoping we had gotten cut off or something, but alas nothing. I mean- why call him? Wouldn't it be easier if I just went over ahead and dropped off the papers? There was no need for chit-chat. Deciding to get over with it, I once again dressed up in my winter gear and decided to make my way over to his place. It was then that the phone rang. It could only be him. Who else? "Yes, Paul?" I picked up on the second ring sounding a little too eager. "Paul?" It was a woman's voice. "Why is Paul phoning you?" the voice asked. "Isabel," I greeted curtly. "Never the mind, Sage, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over? So that we could review some accounting terms?" I didn't hesitate in hanging up the phone. The nerve.I had already done enough for the woman. xxx The address that he had written wasn't too far away from my own home. Once I arrived, I had to do a double take at the address. Yup, this was it. It wasn't the place where I would image a Beatle lived. It was a simple red brick house with a luscious green garden. Approaching the front door, I rang the doorbell. The door opened and an older gentleman opened it. He visibly cringed when he saw me and with a groaning noise slammed it on my face.

"Hey!" I protested banging on the door. This was the right address, I was certain. And what a rude man!

"I'll tell lol you something girly, you're not the first or the last to come by today, but you really are the ugliest one!" The grouchy man said in a rough voice through the door.

"I'm here to see Paul!" I shouted back ignoring the insult.

"Oh, I know. You're the one that's been ringing incessantly! And don't even get me started-" I could hear him stepping away.

"I work for Brian Epstein!" I shouted. "Paul asked me to come deliver some papers," I explained breathlessly. The older man opened the door wide this time and eyed me curiously with mistrusting eyes. "If you don't believe me, here," I handed him a note. "It's his handwriting." It was.

Moving aside like a troll block an entrance the older man moved and allowed me to come inside the house which smelled like fresh paint. I figured he probably had just moved here. He lead me to the living room and instructed for me to sit before going into the kitchen.

He returned escorting two young girls out of the house.

"Ladies, thank you for cleaning my floor, dishes and shelves. I promise you; I'll ring you when Paul gets here. Buh-bye," he waved as they left.

They both called out a "Thank you Mr. McCartney" and left.

By the resemblance and attitude I could only guess that the man was Paul's father.

"Sorry about that," he began as he clapped his hands off as if dusting them off.

"They are driving me absolutely looney! Ringing all day, breaking into my home. These two offered to clean, figured they might as well make them useful," he chuckled.

I sat uncomfortably in the new living room with my legs shut tightly together and my bag guarded in my arms anxiously.

"Tea and biscuits?" He offered.

This was very awkward. I wasn't sure what to say and Jim McCartney, Paul's father sat across from me eyeing me as if I had two heads.

"You're not like the others," he said wisely as he sipped on some tea. "I know these things," he pointed wisely. "If I may ask- why don't you shriek and sob like the others do with my son? Or lust after him like a rabbit in heat?"

I rudely spluttered some of the tea I had been sipping back in the tea cup I had been drinking from. I put the cup down and cleared my throat.

"Well sir, I'm a professional you see? I work for a Brian Epstein and the rest of the band, that is, including your son. I'm his accountant." I explained.

"A working woman," he nodded impressed. "I was young once as well- so if you would just tell me the real reason," his tone changed to a bored one.

Mr. McCartney really didn't beat around the bush.

"Well," I took in a deep breath and let out an uneasy laugh.

"You said it yourself, I'm the ugliest girl that's come by the house all day long," I shrugged. "And yet- you don't allow that pessimistic opinion to defeat you. You really are different," he sipped some of his tea.

"I'm a realistic person Mr. McCartney, I am well aware that your son or any other Beatle or man would be sent to a mad house if they even considered laying their eyes on me. I know that perhaps beauty isn't my affinity, but I'm pretty brilliant in other areas. Also, at the end of the day they are just humans like you and I,” I offered with a small smile.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Well best watch out for Paulie, that's never stopped him before," he wiggled his arched eyebrows.

"Dad!" It was Paul. The voice came from upstairs. He came down from the stairs with his hair soaking wet. He was dressed in casual clothes and wearing his house slippers. His face was pink, and he looked terribly embarrassed. Had he been eavesdropping?

"What are you doing you twisted old man?" He protested as he joined them in the living room. He looked around swiftly for the fan girls. "Are they gone?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"Oh, relax son. Yes, they are gone. These girls are starting to come in handy, they're cheaper than a maid!" He said with both his brows raised.

"They steal my underwear and socks dad!" Paul protested.

"You don't even live here!" The other retorted.

"Sorry that you got stuck here with my old man. I hope he didn't bore you to death," Paul apologized. "Bored her? Ms. O'Shea has proven to be one of the most pleasant conversation that I've had in weeks! All of your other girls are all brain dead 'where's Paul?' 'Can I see his pictures?' 'Paulie this, Paulie that, yadda, yadda,'" he rolled his eyes. "Its refreshing to have someone that doesn't want to talk about you all the time!"

Paul ran a hand through his wet hair nervously.

"Yeah, remember that you were just going to bed?" Paul said through gritted teeth.

Mr. McCartney waved him up and made his way upstairs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll leave you two kids to it."

Paul sighed and shook his head.

"Sorry about him, he gets lonely in the city. More so, now that I don't live with him." He sighed. "Oh, that's fine. My mother is the same," I nodded understanding.

"I'm remodeling my pad so I'm crashing with Old Jim for the time being."

There was an awkward silence. I was unsure of how to proceed. I fidgeted with my thumbs I eyed the door nervously ready to escape. It was simple just drop off the papers and get out.

Here I was. Alone with Paul. His hair was wet and sticking to his forehead. He wore a white t-shirt and a pair of brown pants. Drop the papers and get out.  

"Some scotch?" I was caught off guard by Paul preparing himself a drink.

"N-No thanks," I answered warily, "I don't drink," I explained. Get out. The voice inside of my head said to me.

Paul raised his eyebrows surprised. "Try it then, it won't kill ya," he said with a coy smile as he poured her a cold glass old fashioned scotch. It was that same smile, the one that would make girls bend over backwards to do anything for him. It worked wonders. Not wanting to look lame, I thanked him quietly and took the glass in my hands. I swirled the golden drink in my hand inspecting its density and realized that he had put a record on.

The song was more than familiar.

“Y-you like Sinatra?” I asked surprised. What a stupid question. Who doesn't like Sinatra?

“Old Blue Eyes?,” he responded. “I know you do.” There it was again - that damn smile.

Oh, right. He had been in that cave hole that is considered to be my office. I figured he must’ve seen the framed portrait I keep on my desk.

“Right,” She retorted curtly my eyes darted for the door. Out. I really didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Paul approached me and sat in the sofa next to me. His body was pivoted so that he was facing me. His arm was casually arched resting over the sofa’s seat. He took a heavy sip of his drink. I inched away from him as inconspicuously as I possibly could.

Romantic music, alcohol, his body language. My mind began to race, there was no way in hell he had invited me over with the malicious intent to seduce me. Then again there was that note. I looked at him oddly. Paul was called the Cute Beatles by the obsessive groupies that stalked and followed the band around everywhere. With his perfectly arched eyebrows, full lips, petite nose and dangerous bedroom eyes in my eyes he was the most handsome of the Fab Four.

“Try it,” he said leaning over and raising up the glass slightly to my lips. I took a drink from her glass just like he had done and just how I had seen people do in flickers whenever they wanted to appear cool headed.

I felt my throat clamp shut and groaned as the strong liquor burned. I couldn't help it, I began violently coughing.

"Hey easy there, it's not Lemonade," Paul said after a chuckle. "Water?" He offered kindly touching my shoulder. This gesture was enough to send me overdrive.

I managed to nod through coughs as I patted my chest.

This was too much. Too weird. Too awkward. I looked at the door only a couple of steps away. I had delivered the papers. I could make a go for it and just leave.

As soon as he was gone, I swung my coat on and made a go for the door as quickly as I could.

I was about to reach the doorknob-

"Running away?" I could almost hear the smirk on his lips. I had been caught. I felt my face turn scarlet and flush with embarrassment. There was a smug expression on his face he held a glass of water on his other hand.

"It's late, it's getting dark. I best get going," I spoke quickly with a raspy throat.

"Nonsense!" He replied approaching me and handing me the glass of water. His cold hand touched mine as he did. It lingered there for a second, enough to make my heart skip a beat. I must've been imagining thing because the edge of his lip slightly curled into a grin before he turned to reach for his coat from the coat hanger.  

"A lady should never walk home at night unescorted," he said picking up a set of car keys. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

"No. It's close by-" I protested but he simply pushed me out the door. He wasn't even wearing shoes! He was on his slippers!

Outside he ducked his damp hair from the November winter. "Paul!" I opposed. "I'll be fine, I swear."

"Inside," The gentleman said as he opened the car door open.

My eyes slightly widened at the gesture. No man before had ever offered to escort me home before, much less had bothered to open the car door for me.

Without an alternative I stepped inside of the silver convertible. I sat inside of his nice car stiffly. It was an Austin Healey 3000, the type of car that I had only seen in James Bond flickers or in toy form much less been inside of. Like the house the convertible also smelled new.

I clenched my shaky hands in an attempt to appear more composed. This was so inappropriate, nothing good would come out of this, I know it. He clearly does not like me; he could not like me. He could not be flirting with me. Not one boy had ever reallyfancied her, and the one that had- well... let's just say it is not a pleasant story.

He got in the drivers seat and turned to smile at me. I turn away hoping he won't realize just how nervous I really am. He set on the ignition and drove on to the address I gave him. Neither of us exchanged a single word during the entire car ride. I was too nervous and well- only God knows what was running through his head. "Music," he said. It was more of a factual statement not an offer as he turned on the radio.

“Yes music!" I retorted louder than intended. Finally, they were outside of my house. The home was your stereotypical middle lower-class British home.

"Thank you very much Paul, goodnight! Ta!" I said hurriedly as I opened the door almost running for her dear life.

"Sage wait!" His hand reached for my arm as he held me in place.

"I'll confess," he began, and I shallow a knot that had formed in my throat.

"I invited you with an ulterior motive." Uh-oh.

I looked at him with both of my eyes wide. For a moment I could've sworn that her heart stopped. It wasn't possible. His grip tightened around the fabric of my coat. He looked at my terrified expression. "I-I actually wanted to…” there was a hint of hesitation on his tone.

I held her breath as he pondered on his words. I wondered just what in the world he could've wanted to do with me.

The music, the lighting, the booze, I prayed it wasn't a some ruse he played on all the new members of Brian Epstein’s team.

xxx

There was an angel standing on Paul’s right shoulder. It reminded him of his mother, may she rest in peace. It reminded Paul that the eyes of a person are the windows to their soul and hers were kind. They were innocent, and vulnerable, pure and hidden away from the word shielded by two framed glass walls.

On his other shoulder however was a horned imp wearing red suit that resembled his best friend, John.

“You dirty dog,” it laughed inside of his head. “Don’t tell me you’re begging to get sappy over the Munter? Ya pansy cakeboy!”

John’s imaginary voice reminded him of the bet he had agreed to be a part of. Maybe he was right, maybe it would be fun. Considering she had almost ran away from him twice now it was definitely going to be a challenge. And the only challenge wouldn’t be getting her to fancy him-

He tried not to stare at her massive eyebrow, her poor skin, her bushy untamed hair and just overall awkwardness.

How was he supposed to even kiss her? Would he have to find a way around it? Turn off the lights? Do it in pitch darkness.

Paul wasn’t a masochist but- now he hadto do it. His hubris was on the line. Besides, he still had time to think just what vile thing he would ask John to do once they got even.

So he pulled a malicious lie out of his ass.

"Sage," he looked down to reach for her hand but she kept them tucked close to her body looking terribly uncomfortable.

"You're-" he ransacked his brain for a compliment.

Paul was a man of words, he had to select his adjectives with a keen eye to detail. He really should've thought this more thoroughly.

Beautiful? Nah. Too much, too fast - besides it would sound like a hollow compliment. Pretty? Too overused.

Suddenly he found himself stuck. This really was going to be harder than he had assumed. It was so easy to tell any woman that they were beautiful. They might be bashful about it, but they would believe anything that came out of his lips. This one- what would he praise?

"Smart," he blurted. "Brilliant!" He said more to himself at the comment. "You're a woman whom I don't have to pray to the Lord to throw some brains down from heaven. You're efficient-"

Her eyes were wide in shock and confusion as he spoke.

"Point is-" he mumbled to himself. How would he go on about this? "I want you-" He paused for a moment. How would he word this? 'Have dinner with me?', 'Come out with me?', 'Come out. We could go dancing have a good time.' He was at loss of words and he looked at her, this time he really looked at her. The innocence that was reflected on her face. He couldn't do this to her. "-be my personal assistant," he finished dully.

She remained mute. This was too weird. "I-I'll pay you handsomely, twice whatever it is that Brian pays you."

It took her a moment to regain her composure. "I-I don't know what to say," she responded flabbergasted. "Paul, I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm looking for something  more serious and I'm happy with my current position."

"Which is why I'm paying you more," he pressed.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." She said shaking her head, "I didn't kill myself studying just to end up as- an assistant." She said lowly sounding frustrated. He let go of her arm and she excited the car.

Paul was struck, had she just rejected his offer?

He rolled down the window as she rushed up the stairs. He had to do something, say something.

"This is exactly why I need you!" He shouted after her.

She froze in her steps and turned to face him in the cold night. Hands shoved deep inside of her pockets. She looked at him expecting him to continue. to her surprise he even got off his car and stepped towards her. She looked at his tall frame approaching her. Maybe he had been completely wrong about her.

He guessed there were simply something's that money couldn't buy. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, his brows furrowed. "Thanks for the ride," she mumbled before reaching her door.

"You are one of the few people that see and treat me- actually treat us. As actually human beings." He spewed unsure of where all of this was coming from.  "You don't put me or the others in a godly pedestal. You-You  respect yourself, which makes you an even more valuable… team asset." He licked his lips, and shifted on his feet uneasily. “Think of it as a steppingstone in your career.” Her eyes lingered on him for a second. There was something about his offer that made her uneasy. Something that didn't sit right with her gut.

"Goodnight Paul.”

xxx

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[thisgirlsays22]

Intro to Data Science Chapter 3

Rating: E

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin

Pairing(s):  Eren Yeager/ Levi

Chapter Word Count: 3.7K

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, (British) Professor Levi, (American) Student Eren, Long Distance

Summary:

“You’re probably just into him for the accent.”

“It’s not that,” Eren argued. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s so much more than that.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Notes:

This chapter took inspiration from @ereri-writing-prompts incalescent prompt ;)

For my lovely @fluffymusketeer who loves smut. May this chapter bring her joy. 

And a big thank you to @attraversiamo19 for being a fantastic beta and workshopping lines and ideas with me nonstop. 

Read chapter 3 on Ao3 or under the cut. Chapter 1 & Chapter 2 on Tumblr. 

Levi should have never allowed the kiss to happen. His plan--if you could call it that--had spectacularly backfired.

“I thought if I spent more time with him, he’d turn out to be a twat, and I’d lose interest,” he tried to explain to Isabel.

Spring had come out in full force that weekend, the sweet smell of the first crocuses blooming in the air. They jogged through Clapham Common side by side, dodging cyclists and couples strolling hand in hand.

“Maaate.” Isabel let out a low whistle. “That makes no sense.”  

She wasn’t wrong. He’d not stopped thinking of Eren’s smile or the kiss for two days straight.

“I’m hardly ever interested in someone once I properly chat to them,” Levi said, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“Fair point. Can’t argue with that.”

Isabel and Farlan knew his track record better than anyone, even Hanji and Erwin. Childhood friends always saw how the sausage got made.

They ran for another kilometer, the kiss still playing through Levi’s mind on repeat. He hadn’t even kissed Eren properly. A fucking wasted opportunity.  

A student had never caught his interest before, and even if they had, he never would have pursued anything. Eren’s pushiness should have been a turn-off, but he didn’t push quite hard enough to be off-putting.

“Right, I’ve had enough,” Isabel said, slowing to a walk. She flung herself onto the grass, red hair fanning out around her. Levi frowned, but gingerly took a seat next to her after he made sure the area was clear of bird or dog shit. Dogs were running everywhere without their leads, and some owners were irresponsible fucks.

Isabel picked up the former thread of their conversation. “He must be quite fit if you’re still interested.”

This line of questioning could only go to stupid places, but Levi thought of how tall Eren was, his lithe muscles, his beautiful green eyes. “Yeah. He’s alright.”

She nudged his arm. “He hench, then?”

“What the fuck is 'hench'?”

“You know, like...jacked and shit.”

“Ug.” Levi rolled his eyes. Isabel taught at a secondary school, and she picked up all the awful slang her students used.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Fuck’s sake. I don’t know yet.”

“You can’t tell Farlan about this,” she warned. “Exactly the sort of thing he’d freak out about, innit?”

Levi never would have breathed a word about Eren today if Farlan hadn’t been ill. “Of course I’m not telling Farlan. What kind of dick-head do you take me for? I thought you would probably tell him.”

“Alright, alright. Respect.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Just making sure. And no, I won’t unless you tell me I can.”

“Stop saying ‘respect’ like that,” Levi said irritably. “You sound ridiculous.”

She laughed. “Whatever.”

“Thanks. There’s no reason to tell him, really. He’ll get up in arms over fuck all.”

Levi had always appreciated that even though Farlan and Isabel had gotten together when they were teenagers, he’d never been made to feel like a third wheel. If Isabel said she’d respect his desire to keep this between them, he knew she meant it.   

“For the record,” she said, picking at a blade of grass by her leg. “I don’t think it’s that big a deal. You’re both adults, and you’re a good bloke. You’d treat him right.” She winked at him. “Not like if one of the teachers at my school were dating a student.”

“Well, yes,” Levi said, “your students are fourteen. I’d say that’s quite different.” 

“Right. Exactly.” She pointed at him. “So once your classes are over, have yourself a nice shag, if you like.”

“Still feels wrong,” Levi said. Even if you removed them from the university setting, Levi had an established career, money, experience.

“Look, if you wanted to be talked out of it, you’d have gone to Farlan. But you came to me.”

She had a point. Levi shifted uncomfortably, the spot between his socks and his trousers tickled by the grass. Isabel might talk like a bloody idiot sometimes, but she was smart.

“Clever girl,” he said dryly.

She punched his arm lightly. “Yeah, I do alright sometimes, don’t I?”

“Mm. You ready for another lap, then?”

She spread her arms out. “Ten more minutes. I’m cloud watching now.”

Levi sighed, but he joined her in gazing up at the blue sky, full of fluffy clouds intermittently covering the sun. He felt oddly at peace. Perhaps the simple act of confiding his ‘sins’ in Isabel had freed him from their hypnotic spell. Perhaps if he ran hard enough, he could enter into spring’s embrace and leave Eren and their kiss behind him.   

   Of course, he was wrong about that. The next night, he checked his emails only to find one from Eren waiting for him at the top of his inbox.

Hi Levi,

I was just wondering if I could swing by during your office hours to pick your brain about graph databases? We only briefly covered them in class, but I was curious if you had any further reading. My thesis is focussed on them, and Professor Zacharias recommended I come talk to you.

Thank you,

Eren Jaeger

Levi blinked at the computer screen. He hit ‘reply’ and tried to formulate a response.

Eren,

The cursor blinked back at Levi. His hands hovered uselessly over the keyboard.  

I don’t think I’m the best person to advise you.  

I wish you all the best with your thesis. You’re an excellent student, and your hard work will pay off.

No. That sounded shitty and weird. “Your hard work will pay off”? It could be misconstrued as a pervy come on. And “you’re an excellent student”? He’d barely noticed Eren was in his class until they’d spoken at the pub.

He tried again:

Eren,

I’m not the best person to advise you. Professor Zacharias overestimates my knowledge on the subject.

I wish you all the best with your thesis.

Best,

Levi Ackerman

He hesitated before he hit send. Because if he were Eren, he’d read it as the rejection it was meant to be, and he’d leave well enough alone. The thought made his stomach drop.

Fuck. He stood up and paced around his small bedroom, lit only by the faint glow of the screen. He disappointed himself. Relief, not disappointment, should be his foremost emotion.

Farlan had once pulled some armchair-psychologist bullshit that Levi found flaws in appropriate potential partners in favor of doomed ones because deep down he thought he deserved to be alone.

Levi sat back down and hit send on the email.

   The last lecture of the semester had been earlier that week, and Eren had sat at the back of the room, expression unreadable when Levi had braved a look.

Exam schedules were now set, and panicked students sent him emails asking for clarification about all sorts of topics. Most preferred to communicate digitally rather than dropping by his office hours, which suited Levi just fine.  

He was cleaning his desk when Eren showed up. Levi wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Hey,” Eren said from the doorway, looking nervous. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Levi replied. “You alright?”

Eren's eyes narrowed. He marched into the room and shut the door behind him, not quite a slam but with more force than necessary. “Why wouldn’t I be alright? Because you kissed me and then just left? And then sent me that blow-off email? I’m great.”

Levi couldn’t help it; he laughed despite his irritation with Eren, with himself. He’d gone through this misunderstanding with Hanji before. “It just means ‘how are you’. But fair point.” He put the cleaning spray and rag down on the desk, unsure of what to do with his hands now that they were empty.

The laughter startled Eren and seemed to have a placating effect. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and looked away. “Oh, yeah. I’m still not used to that phrase.”

Silence hung between them, an awkward companion in the room.

Levi took it upon himself to break that silence. “Look. The kiss shouldn’t have happened.” There was no point pussyfooting around it.   

“I don’t care,” Eren retorted, prepared. “I’m glad it did.”

“I’m not here to live out some teacher, student fantasy with you,” Levi said flatly. It wasn’t that he was opposed to one-night stands or flings, but the thought of being used like that, playing some part, pissed him off. He didn’t want to take advantage of Eren, but he didn’t want to be taken advantage of either.

Eren shook his head. “That isn’t what this is.”

“No?”

“No. I like you. ” Eren took a seat in front of Levi, the small room shrinking further. His body said, I’m not going anywhere. I dare you to move away. “I think you like me too.”

This was terrible in its own way. Because Levi wanted Eren, and if he really wasn’t just some way for Eren to live out a cliche fantasy, and if Eren kept pushing--which it was clear from the way he was looking at Levi that he would--then Levi wouldn’t be able to say no.

They probably just needed to get this attraction out of their systems. This couldn’t possibly go beyond that. Whatever was between them, it had no legs.

Levi didn’t answer but he didn’t look away either, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back against the front of the desk. They were so close, and when their eyes met, he felt the heat, the spark between them.

Eren stood slowly, giving Levi time to break the eye contact or retreat behind his desk. He stayed still as Eren moved closer until his hands were resting on either side of the desk, caging Levi in.

Levi knew he shouldn’t let this happen in his office--and he’d just cleaned the bloody desk--but he had fantasised about fucking someone here. He’d just assumed it would be another professor. Or at least a student in an entirely different department. Music Theory, perhaps.  

Well. If this was going to happen, he’d do it right this time.

He reached a hand up behind Eren’s neck to pull him in, crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. Sucking and biting Eren’s lower lip the way he’d stopped himself from doing last time, brushing a thumb against Eren’s nipple through his thin t-shirt. Levi was rewarded with a pleased moan, Eren clutching Levi closer.

Once, he told himself, just once so fucking enjoy it. He licked his way into Eren’s mouth, teasing their tongues together.  

After a few minutes, Eren broke the heated kiss, breathing hard. He rested his forehead against Levi’s. “God, you’re sexy.”

“Go lock the door,” Levi brushed past the compliment, shallow breath breaking the illusion of a calm exterior.

Eren stumbled over himself rushing to the door, and Levi rolled his eyes.  

When he was finished, Levi pulled him forward again for another kiss, running his hands along Eren’s back and then slipping them underneath his shirt, fingers cool against Eren’s hot skin. It was only a matter of time before Eren set him ablaze.

“Why are your hands so cold?” Eren took Levi’s hands between his own, warming them.

“They’re always cold,” Levi dismissed, looking down at their intertwined hands. Eren kissed each knuckle, and somehow this felt more intimate than Eren’s tongue in his mouth.

“I want to make you feel good,” Eren said.

Levi glanced at the desk. He had pens, windex, a rag, and a box of tissues. “I don’t have any lube.”

Eren laughed. “Me neither. This is going way better than I imagined.”

“Yeah. You sure won the lucky draw.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but I like it,” Eren said. “Clothes on or off?”

Levi glanced at the door. “On.” He knew he would regret not seeing Eren naked, but if someone turned up, they wouldn’t have very long to get decent. His cock swelled at the thought, surprising him. Even the idea of ravaging Eren in his stupid, ratty Abercrombie t-shirt wasn’t enough to turn him off.

“Do you shop anywhere else?” Levi asked, fisting the front of Eren’s shirt.

Eren blinked at him. “Your flirting is so weird. Don’t change.”

“I was sincerely asking.”

Eren ignored him and instead bent forward to kiss Levi’s neck, nibbling and sucking up and down, hitting all those sweet spots that made Levi’s eyes flutter shut. Rendered him speechless.  

“Okay,” Eren said, straightening up. “I know what I want to do.”

“Go on then,” Levi said, nearly breathless.   

Eren dropped to his knees to mouth at Levi’s cock through his soft slacks, the hard outline pressed against his lips as he left wet marks on the material. Eren cupped Levi’s length while slipping two of Levi’s fingers into his mouth. A low groan slipped past Levi’s lips as he imagined that tight, wet heat around his dick.

“Can I?” Eren asked, looking up at him in a way that had Levi straining against his trousers.

“Yeah.” Jesus fuck, yes. Do anything you want to me.

In seconds, his cock was freed from the confines of his trousers. Briefly, he wondered if it would bother Eren that he was uncut; the only other American man Levi had slept with had been taken aback by it.

But Eren licked him from root to tip without hesitation, moaning softly.

“I love your dick,” he said before sucking the head into his mouth and giving his tongue a swirl. He gripped Levi’s ass, moans muffled now as he took Levi deeper and deeper.

“Oh my god, ” Levi choked out. He’d never had someone sound quite like that--downright filthy--when they sucked him off, the vibrations around his length and the way Eren was playing with his balls had Levi’s legs shaking as he clutched the edge of the desk behind him for support.

Eren looked up at him, eyes clouded with lust, and smirked around his cock. Tangling a hand in Eren’s silky, wild hair, Levi tipped his head back, letting go.

Torturously, Eren paused his ministrations, and said, “Keep watching me.”   

Levi obeyed, and Eren tilted his head to the side and began to slide his wet lips up and down Levi’s shaft. It wasn’t a bad sensation, but Levi was confused.

“What are you doing?”

“The harmonica technique.”

Levi had no idea what this technique was, but Eren’s enthusiasm was delightful. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been doing it this way for years, and no one’s complained.”

“Well, it’s not awful,” Levi offered. “Wrap your lips around it more when you move.”  

Eren gave a look of intense concentration, and Levi was surprised at how sexy he found it.

This time, Eren got his lips halfway round Levi’s cock as his slid up and down. “Fuuuuck,” Levi groaned, snapping his hips forward.

Eren pulled back and grinned up at Levi. “Like that, then?”

“You’re a fast learner.” Levi's knuckles went white as he tightened his grip on the desk.  

At the praise, Eren let out a soft, pleased sigh, and switched to the other side. Levi was so hard, and all he wanted was to fuck Eren’s sweet mouth, to completely let go.

“Eren--”

An acknowledging hum, and Eren began sucking him off in earnest again. Taking Levi as deep as he could, and christ almighty, Levi wished he could just bend Eren over the desk and fuck him into oblivion.

It took all his willpower not to come as Eren deepthroated him and held him still, throat constricting around him.

“Eren,” he panted. “I’m so fucking close.”

Slowly, Eren pulled back. Levi watched reverently as his glistening cock inched out of Eren’s mouth. “Fuck--I’m gonna--”

Eren opened his mouth and closed his eyes, and Levi’s cum painted that gorgeous face and lips and tongue, a filthy masterpiece.

A strange look passed over his face as Eren wiped some cum off of his chin. And suddenly, Eren stood up and slid a cum-streaked finger down Levi’s cheek.

“What the fuck?” Levi spluttered, still in a post-orgasm haze.

“That’s for your email,” Eren said, eyes full of amusement. “And for making fun of my shirt,” he added as reached around Levi to snatch some of the tissues from his desk--for once hayfever season had proven useful--to wipe down the rest of his face.

“I--you absolute shit. That’s disgusting.” His words lacked any bite, despite his best effort. Why the fuck was he horrified and amused?

Levi grabbed one of the unused tissues from Eren’s hand and wiped the cum off furiously.

He yanked Eren, who was obviously trying to hold back laughter, towards him, and kissed that stupid fucking smile off his face. He pulled on that messy, ridiculous hair and when he tugged a little harder Eren moaned into his mouth. It was a shame this couldn’t happen again or he’d want to explore that.

Levi unzipped Eren’s jeans and palmed his erection. “You want me to take care of that?” he asked, voice low.

“God, yes.” Eren rubbed himself against Levi’s hand, letting out a desperate whimper.

“Shame you’ll have to beg for it now after what you did.”

Pleased by the sharp inhale above him, he started another messy kiss. As Eren tried to grind against his hand, he shifted back ever so slightly.

Eren pulled away with a groan. “Stop moving your hand away, I can’t take it.”

“Beg for it,” he said. “I told you.”

Cock jerking against Levi’s hand, Eren gasped, “Please, Levi.”

Levi stroked a finger down Eren’s rigid length, chasing a bead of pre-cum.     

“Please, damn it. I need you to really fucking touch me, I’ll do anything. Please,” he begged, pupils blown wide, as his lustful gaze met Levi’s.

“Alright, then,” Levi sighed, slicked his hand with spit, and gave Eren what he wanted.

Eren’s cock was perfect: long and smooth and not too thick. Levi loved the way it slid between his hands as Eren thrust helplessly, and he imagined what it would feel like inside of him. His cock twitched with renewed interest, but he shook off the fantasy. This wouldn’t happen again.

Levi nipped at the space where Eren’s collarbone met his neck, and whispered, “You going to come for me?”

“Not yet.” Eren shut his eyes. “Too good.”

“Come on,” he said softly. “I want you to. Come for me, Eren.”  

Eren cried out, face twisting in ecstacy. He came all over Levi’s hand in hot, sticky bursts, fingers digging into Levi’s arms as he shook.

“Asshole,” Eren murmured, slumping forward.

For a minute, Eren remained boneless in his arms, Levi half sat on the desk with Eren draped over him. As much as he felt the surprising, unwelcome urge to stay like this, Levi disentangled himself.

Pulling a few tissues from the box to clean them both up, Levi said, “Unlike you, I’ve got a little class.”

“Thanks.” Eren tucked himself back into his jeans. He flicked his eyes up to Levi's. “Sorry I wiped cum on your face.”

Levi arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “You’re not sorry.”

“It was pretty funny,” Eren admitted.

“It was vile.”

“My punishment wasn’t fair, though. Making me beg like that.”

“Seemed like you enjoyed it.”

Eren flushed but otherwise didn’t acknowledge Levi’s observation. “You shouldn’t have blown me off in your email.”

“Well, you didn’t really come here to talk about graph databases, did you?” Levi said, walking over to the bin to throw the crumpled tissues away.

“No.” Eren gave a shaky laugh, looking a little dazed. “I really am doing my dissertation on them, though.”

Levi stayed behind his desk. Now that they’d gotten their attraction out of their system, he felt he should keep his distance. The hazy fog of arousal no longer clouding his judgement, Levi cleared his  throat. “I can email you some recommendations, if you like. I haven’t worked with them much, but I have some resources.”

“Thank you,” Eren said. He looked sad, though. “So was this...is this really it?”

“Afraid so.” Even Levi realised how callous that sounded. “It’s nothing to do with you, Eren. It’s this--” he gestured around them, “we’ve acted on the attraction, and now we can move on.”

“You’re not even my professor anymore.”

“Technically I am. You haven’t sat your exams yet, and I could be involved in grading your dissertation,” Levi pointed out.

He didn’t even know what the policies were on being involved with a student in your department. Probably, “don’t do it”. There was no point in pursuing something else anyway. For what? A few more shags? Ridiculous.   

“Okay.” Eren made a move towards the door. “I’m glad we…acted on the attraction. It’s been real.”

Eren froze with his hand on the doorknob and turned to face Levi again. The look he gave was dangerous, determined. He marched back towards Levi, around the desk, and kissed him forcefully, pure fire. Again, despite his earlier words to the contrary, Levi found himself melting into Eren. Their teeth clashed as they tried to find the right angle, to get closer, Eren’s fingers buried in Levi’s hair.

Eren eased them out of the kiss, planting a few final, softer ones on Levi’s lips.

“Okay. Goodbye for real now,” Eren said, nodding to himself before walking out the door.

In stunned silence, Levi stared at the space Eren had occupied, a small part of him wishing that Eren would come back, that this wasn’t goodbye.

“You know what, no,” Eren said walking back in the room. “I want to see you again.”

Both of Levi’s awful plans had failed. Talking to Eren more and messing around with him had done nothing to lessen his interest. He’d just crossed a big line, might as fucking well cross another.

“Come round for tea this weekend, if you like.”

Eren blinked at him.

“I don’t...I don’t see where this can possibly go,” Levi said. “But we might as well talk.”

“Okay.” Eren ducked his head as he hid a smile. “Yeah.”

Levi grabbed some paper from his desk and jotted down his number. “I would tell you not to abuse this, but I have a feeling you will.”

Eren took the paper and tapped it lightly against the palm of his hand. “Nah. I’m gonna play it so cool now. You’ll be dying for me to message you.”

Rolling his eyes, Levi said, “Play it too cool, and you won’t get an address.”

Moments after Eren left his office, Levi had a text that said, I’m the uncoolest of cool. Please send me your address and a time.

[theladylikesfics]

After The Storm Chpt 7

Min Ji Ho had never felt special in her life. She was a second daughter and compared to her older sister automatically second best. No, in her eyes third best, their dog was a champion purebred poodle named Xiang; he was definitely before her in the hierarchy of perceived children in the home. Her older sister, Dahyun was perfect in every way imaginable. Naturally beautiful, highly intelligent and poised. She’d won everything from beauty pageants, and spelling bees to national science project awards; she was the crown jewel of the Min children. Min Ji Ho was just as talented and smart as her sister, just not as attractive in the eyes of parents. When visitors would come to the house all of the accomplishments of Dahyun and Xiang were on full display, Ji Ho was barely an after thought. When visitors would ask about her, her parents would gladly speak of the current great thing she was recognized for in school, but when asked to see her, it was always an excuse ‘oh, she’s out studying.’ ‘she is currently not home, at cram school.’ ‘she doesn’t feel well today, we wouldn’t want our guests to get sick’ here parents were ashamed of how she looked. There wasn’t anything physically wrong with her face, she simply wasn’t as beautiful as Dahyun. When she was fifteen and sixteen her mother fought hard to get her plastic surgery to change her appearance. Doctors had declined stating that because of her age they refused because she was still growing and changing and anything that they would do could potentially be undone naturally, they advised her mother that the earliest they could do any work would be eighteen. At seventeen and Dahyun being twenty-two their father passed away; the business he owned was given to Dayhun, but the warehouse spaces were left to Ji Ho. Dahyun was engaged to a doctor and currently living in Busan; she gladly took over the business and moved it, leaving an angry Ji Ho with empty dirty warehouses. After the sale of a few of the warehouses, Ji Ho immediately moved out on her own to attend college, removing herself from her mother’s displeasure. No longer did she need to be reminded that she wasn’t as good as Dahyun, she was free to be on her own. She decided that she wouldn’t get the plastic surgery, that she would use the face that she had to get what the wanted out of life one way or the other. She started watching make up tutorials, master make-up artist for celebrities, studying the techniques used by prosthetics companies, and movie special effects company. She honed her craft like a finely sharped knife, in a few short years she could make herself look like anyone. Creating good looks wasn’t the only skill she possessed, Ji Ho was also a master manipulator. She was always charming, she was taught to be so by her mother before her looks began to change and her attention was full diverted away from her. Ji Ho could sell ice to a polar bear in the middle of the artic circle. She learned early on both men and women responded well to a pretty face, a sweet voice, and a teasing of skin. She’s acquired a string of suitors with enough money to entertain her wants and needs, each one seeing a different face. When she was seventeen, she and one of the few friends she did have attended her first ever concert. It was BTS kicking off their first wave of the Love Yourself Tour; she and Jeongyeon managed to get front seats right in front of stage. It was during the performance of ‘Best of Me’ when Kim Seokjin made eye contact with her exclusively, squatting down to sing before popping back up, winking at her and blowing a kiss. Min Ji Ho was spellbound. She had never seen a more beautiful man in her entire life and he had just winked and blown a kiss at her. With her face and looks, he blew a kiss at Her! That night at home, Min Ji Ho spent hours upon hours researching and learning absolutely everything that she could about BTS and Kim Seokjin; she missed an entire week of school in her pursuit to immerse herself in the world of Bangtan. She vowed that when she was ready, when she was perfect enough and pure enough for him, she would make herself up and go see her Oppa; declare her love for him and he would accept her; because she was smart beautiful and charming. Three years later while working as nurse, she assisted a doctor on his rounds in the prison ward of the mental hospital. She was trying out a new face when a prisoner looked at her, calling her a name she didn’t know and confessed all of his love for her, apologising for hurting her and that he still in fact loved her. She smiled politely at him, comforting him, telling him that everything would be okay. Later that afternoon while the doctor was out, she snuck in to his office to review the file of the man. He was currently fifty-three years old and was a convicted murderer via letter bombing; Min Ji Ho smiled a shy smile to herself and thought that maybe this man could be useful to her in the future. Ji Ho made the decision that every time she would work the hospital she would ensure she was using this face, so that she could further garner the inmate’s affection. She was irate when on her last visit she discovered that he had been discharged. It took months for her to gain access to the prison ward’s record room in order find where he was released too; months track down the group home he listed in the seedier side of Seoul. Ji Ho flew in to a full rage temper tantrum when she discovered the building had been shut down and the residents scattered. Two months later she sat outside a café, studying a new face, when a homeless man wandered over to her. Taken aback she recoiled and grabbed her things until he spoke that name, she recognized him immediately. She wasn’t using the face but some how he recognized her. She cooed at him, offering him food and patted his hand. Fate had smiled on her, because she always got her way one way or another. This situation would be no different, she would have Kim Seokjin come hell or high water. Ji Ho was devastated when she found the news Kim Seokjin had a girlfriend; she knew there was a chance that he would have gotten distracted by another woman while she was finishing the task of perfecting for herself for him. By perfecting herself, she meant being versed in all things Kim Seokjin. She had traveled to his home town, retracing the steps of his childhood, went to his favorite local restaurants, learned to cook all of his favorites from there from the actual chefs and cooks in the kitchen. Tracked down childhood acquaintances and paid out ridiculous amounts of money to find out every scrap of information she could about him. She even managed to find out the location of Kim Seokjin’s family home and take a picture just outside the gate. When she discovered what Kim Seokjin was dating she was horrified and disgusted, that person, wasn’t even Korean! The skin wasn’t fair or light in anyway, Ji Ho simply couldn’t fathom how he could look at it and see ‘beauty’. Her entire life she had been taught that beauty was the fairest of skin, with wide natural Korean eyes, to be small and demure. This person, if she could even see it as one, wasn’t anything like that at all. She had skin like chocolate or a dark pecan shell, she had large breasts, wide hips and a supple ass. She was no where near the Korean standard of beauty and Ji Ho just couldn’t understand how her Perfect Prince could be so enamoured. Ji Ho decided that she would allow Kim Seokjin to have a fling while she finished all her preparations, it won’t last she told herself. Well now things are different, that thing was determined to steal her Kim Seokjin and mock her as well and to add further insult to injury with that gorgeous ring Kim Seokjin used for the engagement. It should have been hers! Min Ji Ho always got what she wanted one way or another and this time would be no different.

You heard the commotion in the hallway, after the phone call. Jin was next door visiting the guys; Song called and wanted to know if you or Jin were expecting a delivery, you weren’t and advised him as so. You heard distinct shouting and froze; had someone managed to breach security and get to your floor, you tried to extend the focus of the camera in the hallway, you could see a figure prone on the floor, then you saw Jin race past the front door and down the hall. Common sense being damned you whipped open the front door to follow after him. Looking over his shoulder Jin yelled for you to go back inside, you tried to protest but he yelled again insisting you return. Going back inside, you paced the hallway in front of the door, desperate to know what was going on outside. A short five minutes later, Jin open the front door, and carried in a large box. “Jin what the fuck just happened?” you were full of panic and seeing Jin walk in with a smile wasn’t answering any questions. “Just a simple misunderstanding, follow me sweetheart.” “Jin what the hell?!” “Babe just follow me, please.” Jin said with a chuckle. Following Jin to the couch he sat down opposite from you. “Okay, small misunderstanding outside; you weren’t expecting a delivery, but I was, I didn’t tell you because it was a surprise. Knowing what we know about the two assailants security is on a high alert so when you said no, they went into action. Seo called me as the package was addressed to me.” “Oh no, that poor delivery person, they didn’t hurt them, did they?” You asked suddenly concerned for the startled deliverer. “They are fine, a little taken aback but no harm done.” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, remember I told you last night that I planned on matching this weekend?” “Ugh don’t remind me, I’ve been waiting on you practically all morning to finish up your meeting with the guys, so we can go shopping.” Jin smiled, it slowly slid across his face, you recognized it as his all-knowing smile and immediately knew something was up. “Kim Seokjin, what have you been up to?” “When I decided that I wanted to match you on the red-carpet, I thought that maybe I should be proactive in arranging our clothing. I was leaving set one day and I saw something that caught my eye, immediately I thought, you would look nothing less than gorgeous in this gown. The very next morning, I called and had a dress ordered for you and had them sign a contract that you would be the only one at the premiere in this dress, just in case some one else fell in love with it; and I had a tux made for me to match. I hope you like it.” Jin carefully cut open the box and pulled out a large garment bag. You immediately gasped at the deep purple color before even seeing the dress in full; The bodice was a silk low cut sweetheart neckline adorned with Swarovski Crystal, the richness of the purple made the jewels twinkle like stars in the night sky, the skirt of the dress was long deeply pleated layers of tulle. Jin carefully removed the dress from the garment bag, standing up on the ottoman holding it up so you could see it in all its beautiful full glory. “Oh my God, Jinni, its breathtaking.” You sat at the very edge of the couch, holding your breathe too afraid to move to touch it, you found it so beautiful. “Do you really like it Sweetheart?” Jin asked nervously but with a big smile playing on his lips. “Kim Seokjin if I wasn’t already marrying you, this dress would have sealed your deal! Baby it’s magnificent, oh my gosh!” Finding your legs, you stood up and moaned as your fingers caressed the gently silk of the bodice and the tulle of the skirt. Jin’s smile beamed down on you like the sun itself. “Get down here so I can kiss you properly.” You said, helping Jin carefully step down from the ottoman, and placing the dress back in the garment bag. You draped your arms over his shoulders and kissed him deeply, rolling your tongue with his. “Thank you for being so amazing and so good to me Jinni. You truly are the best did you know that?” “Only because I have you by my side.” Jin said still smiling brightly at you. “Do you know why I choose this dress for you, why you came to mind?” Jin asked. You shook your head no still staring up at his beautiful face. “You told me once, that purple is the color of royalty, and you my dear, are nothing if not my queen.” Jin gently took your right hand, lifting it to his lips and kissed the back of your hand. You swooned. You literally got weak in the knees and melted into the arms of your man, who currently was supporting your whole body weight laughing fully at you. “Why, why are you this way, oh my God Jin!” You squealed, you squealed like a giddy pre-teen girl. “Just when I think that I’m absolutely in love with you to the fullest and it is simply impossible for me to be moony-eyed over you any more than I already am, you say the most amazing thing and literally make me go weak in the knees! I’m so damn lucky I get to love you, I get to spend my life with you. I’m so excited that I get to have a future with a man who makes me laugh, who plays game and not afraid to be silly, and who has the most amazing heart imaginable. I’m so lucky to have you!” You couldn’t help but gush at your fiancé. Jin leaned down and kissed your lips softly a few times, his fingertips gently trailing down your face. “If this is the type of treatment just for buying you a dress, I can’t wait to see what I get when I show you my wedding ideas.” Jin waggled his eyes brows at you and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Now handsome, show me your tux?” Jin stepped away from you, removing the second garment bag from the box, and opening it up to reveal a double-breasted tuxedo jacket in the same shade of purple as your dress. The houndstooth pattern of the jacket not only added texture to the jacket but added a variance of color. The rich black of his shirt were spotted with droplets of silver matching the top of your dress, there was also a bow tie in that same rich deep purple color. You sighed contentedly as you slid your fingertips over the fabric. “Oh my Mr. Kim you’re going to look absolutely stunning in this.” You said. “I cannot wait for Friday to get here.” “Me neither, I can’t wait to show my queen off on the red carpet, this will be our first major public appearance since getting engaged. I can’t wait to gush over you on camera.” “You are such a ham!” You laughed and playfully hit his chest. Jin pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. “Babe, I know that we’re excited for Friday, but I need you to… just promise me you’ll stay by side, you’ll stay with Seo and Song and at will no point will you be alone. Not even to the bathroom, we’ve got Ahn Hyo Jin coming with us just to make sure of that.” Jin stared down at you, face not as full as mirth as it was just a short few seconds ago, eyes searching your for understanding and acceptance; again, you felt your heart tighten at his distress. “I know baby, I promise no rogue heroics from me this weekend I’m going to be glued to you and security the whole entire time I promise.” You tiptoed and kissed the tip of his nose and smiled at him, trying to ease all his fears while hiding your own. “I love you.” Jin’s voice was filled with worried wavered slightly, his handsome features creased in concern. “It’s going to be okay Jinni. This weekend is going to go smoothly. I’m going to be optimistic and say that nothing’s going to happen. But, and this is a very tiny tiny super tiny but, if something does happening the place is going to be covered in police. If they show up they are getting dealt with immediately, we will look crazy psycho bitch and mad bomber in the face and tell both those sorry fucks that 1) they can kiss the dingiest darkest spots on our asses and 2) they did not succeeded in splitting us up and 3) as part of their prison sentences our wedding will be livestreamed in to their cells so they can see just how much they did not win.” Jin gave that full laughed and you felt your heart smile. “You would be crazy enough to get that added to their prison sentence.” “You damn right I am. Now I’m hungry, will you make me lunch handsome?” Kissing the back of your hand and bowing deeply, Jin replied. “You wish is my command my queen.”

 Min Ji Ho had a plan. It had taken time, pacing back and forth in the dirty surroundings of the warehouse but it had come swiftly and easily like the pace of the Han River. She would be on the red carpet on Friday night, right in the face of her love Kim Seokjin. It would be difficult, with most of her make-up supplies being left behind when she fled her house, she would have purchase new ones without drawing attention to herself. Using the few supplies that she had in her purse she made up her face, donned a mask and ventured out to the store. Passing the electronic shop and open-air cafes she could hear and see her face along with Jeong’s plastered all over advising that they should be considered armed, extremely dangerous, not to be approached and to notified police immediately if spotted. Ji Ho gritted her teeth and stomped down the street, she could see Lotte in the distance, she just had to get in, get out and not get noticed. She’d had enough make-up to dramatically change up her eyes but with out having any make-up putty to redesign her t-zone and eye shape it was a risk. That was only apart of the problem, it was also the quantity of make-up as well; she needed enough not only for herself but to transform Jeong as well; and then there was the matter of clothing. Ji Ho suppressed a scream as she walked inside the Lotte and headed toward the make-up section. She had to be conservative in what she bought as to not look suspicious; she picked up what she dubbed as the essentials, a palette for eyes, two packs of putty, brushes and styling tools, eye liner, mascara, and false lashes.  She prayed she had enough cash on her to cover the expenses, she couldn’t use her bank account because she knew the police were monitoring it for activity to track her. Ji Ho stood in line trying to act as naturally as possible, her totally came out of 334047.00 won ($300.00) she was short the amount needed she had only 250000.00. She stood nervously in line and did what did best, spotting and older gentlemen in line she pretended to become overly emotional and cry. The older gentlemen approached her. “There there, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Ahjussi , I haven’t seen my father in such a long time and I’ve spent all my money on food and one of my bags got lost at the airport and it had all my make up and I’m just short a few won and I just want to look good for him.” She pretended to sob even harder, being careful not to actually cry and ruin her current make-up job. “It’s okay, it’s to see your apa? Here I’ll help.” The older gentlemen paid the remaining balance and even gave her a few won just to make sure she enough to take the train back to hotel room. Ji Ho smirked to herself as she walked down the block back towards the warehouse. This was enough to get started but for the rest of the plan to fully come together she needed to leave the warehouse. She needed to find a new home and she knew exactly who’s home she was going to have. Jeong had done a crude job of painting the van but it was enough for now, packing the few things they had brought with them Min Ji Ho and Jeong Hyun Soo got in the van, Ji Ho doling out direction as the crept through the streets of Seoul to an old neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. They parked the van several blocks away from their actual destination, stealing a license plate from another vehicle and swapping it out and walking to a home in the middle of the night. Walking up to the gate, Ji Ho entered a code she hope had not changed over the years and to her delight it hadn’t; closing the gate behind them as quietly as possible she walked up the stairs, stopping on the third step and opening up the clay pot to remove the spare key and unlocked the door. “You stand right here, be quiet and don’t say anything.” Ji Ho instructed Jeong who simply nodded, arms full of all the belongs they managed to escape the police with. Carefully and quietly Ji Ho climbed the stairs and went to the first bedroom door on the left. “Ee-mo, Ee-mo.” Ji Ho cooed, making her voice sound as syrupy and tired as possible while shaking the sleeping body in the bed. Carefully a sleepy older woman rolled over facing Ji Ho and reaching out looking for thick coke bottle glasses. “Oh! Ji Ho! Sweetie what are you doing here?” “oooh Ee-mo, everything is just wrong Ee-mo. I need help. I just need to stay here for a few days and borrow some money.” The older woman sat up in bed, flashing a smile bigger than her face and pulled Ji Ho in a tight embraced and rocked her back and forth. “There, there auntie’s girl. Don’t worry whatever you need I’ll help.” Park Han Jo was Min Ji Ho’s aunt. More than just an aunt, she was the mother that Ji Ho has wished that she had always had. Park Han Jo understood her, welcomed her, was always proud of her; her pictures were displayed proudly in the home, all of her accomplishments, graduating high school at the top of her class, Ji Ho at her last formal ball, Ji Ho graduating nursing school. She wasn’t hidden or made to feel ashamed that she didn’t measure up to Dahyun, Ji Ho was simply Ji Ho, the apple of her aunts eye. “It is late Ji Ho, why don’t you go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning okay?” Ji Ho smiled and nodded knowing that everything was coming to fruition just like she knew it would. 

 The next morning Ji Ho explained to her aunt that she was had gotten in to a little bit of trouble and needed to leave Seoul for a while. She introduced Jeong Hyun Soo as a lost soul she had taken in and was trying her best to rehabilitate back into society. In the days leading up to the premiere with the help of her aunt, Ji Ho was able to purchase all the make-up and clothing she would need to look proper for the red-carpet as well as make over Jeong. The last piece of the puzzle was convincing her aunt to leave home for a few days. Ji Ho could honestly say she only loved three people in this world, herself, Kim Seokjin and her aunt Park Han Jo. She understood things could get messy and if they did, she wanted as little, if any, collateral damage to her elderly woman as possible. On Wednesday morning, Ji Ho in full disguise, kissed her aunt on the cheek and loaded Park Han Jo into a taxi to a secluded spa on the coast. Later that night, she sent Jeong Hyun Soo to retrieve the van. As he backed it into the garage, a slow menacing smirk stretched across the face of Min Jin Ho. 

 Detectives Park and Lee desperately combed the city of Seoul looking for the fugitives Jeong Hyun Soo and Min Ji Ho. The first stop they made was to home of her mother Min Yoon-ah. “Ma’am, do you know why we’re paying you a visit today?” Detective Park began. Min Yoon-ah sat perfectly straight, hands gently cupped together on her lap, legs crossed at the ankle in the Queen Anne’s chair. Her make-up was light and becoming and done in a way that wouldn’t imply an age; her hair was swept up in a perfect chignon with not a single hair was out of place. The only possible sign that she was feeling any type or distress or tension, was the slight way she worried her mouth. Detective Park could tell that she was probably gnawing on the bottom left corner of the inside of her mouth. Before speaking, she took a gently sigh, followed by leaning forward and picking up the delicate antique tea cup and a taking a sip. She closed her eyes as she exhaled, Detective Lee observed how her lids fluttered, unsure of rather it was a sigh of contentment or of exhaustion. “I’m assuming its about Min Ji Ho. I’ve seen the news. I’m sorry but I don’t think that I can honestly help you. We haven’t spoken in quite some time.” Min Yoon-ah stated very coolly. “Well why don’t you tell us about your daughter then Mrs. Min.” Detective Lee stated. Min Yoon-ah once again sighed, but this time both detectives caught the hint of sadness that crept into her eyes. “Min Ji Ho was exceptional in school work. She was smart, she had talents, but she never truly connected well with others. It was easier with her older sister Dahyun; she was gorgeous, outgoing, highly intelligent. She had a secure place in the spotlight and I think sadly we ignored Ji Ho because we were so focused on all of Dahyun’s achievements. After Dahyun graduated high school and started college, the achievements just continued to collect. She got engaged during that time to a medical intern, so the focus just continued to be on her. The wedding took two full years to plan and it was a grand event, we had a full-page announcement in the paper and when the wedding actually took place it took a whole four pages in the newspaper to cover it. Three years after her sister got married, her father passed away. In his will he decided that Dayhun would inherit the business, but Ji Ho would inherit the warehouses. He had thought that this would be fair and impartial. He hadn’t anticipated Dayhun would relocate the business to Busan, where she and her husband currently live, essentially cutting Ji Ho out of the business. During that time, I tried to convince Dayhun not to move the business, but she had stated the whole reason she had cone to college was to be able to run the business her father has spent his life building. She had full control and there was nothing that I could do. This was nearly five years ago, she hasn’t spoken to me since.” “Mrs. Min, your daughter is being accused of stalking and attempted murder, do you believe she’s capable of either of these acts?” Min Yoon-ah hands betrayed her calm façade as the tea cup rattled against the saucer as she set it down on the table; her lips trembling as she attempted to control the sob that wanted to burst out of her. She nodded her head firmly before a statement of ‘yes’ fractured by tears uttered from her lips. “She could. We learned early in life about Ji Ho’s determination. If she put her mind to something, then it was simply a matter of time before it was done. If you believe she’s stalking this couple because she believes, she’s the only one good enough for this young man; then sadly I can assure you she will stop at nothing to get him. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Her first year of high school she became enamored with a second-year student and would make a scene anytime any other girl was seen talking to him. The final straw was when a young attractive woman became their English teacher. One day it was in class all the other students were there but when the teacher called on the young man Ji Ho flew into a rage. Her father paid out a large sum of money to the boy’s family as compensation. We withdrew her from school for the rest of the year and sent her to a private facility for the remainder of the school year; she spent four months there and at the end of the time the doctors said that she had impulse control issues and recommended that she continue to take the medicine and monitored, which we made sure of. After she moved out, there was no way for me to watch her any more. I knew she went to nursing school and graduated so I’d hope that she was still using the medicine and doing well. I guess not.” She has a history of this behavior then. Detective Lee said looking at Detective Park. “Does she have, close friends, family other than you or her sister? Is there someone who would help her?” Min Yoon-ah was beginning to say ‘no’ when her brow furrowed, and her expression changed to deep sadness. “Yes. Possibly, but if the police is involved I don’t think she would get them involved. She has an aunt, my late husband’s sister. She’s older and she’s always doted upon and taken care of Ji Ho. Ji Ho is fiercely protective of her; but Park Han Jo would do just about anything for Ji Ho. If she needed money or food or a place to stay she would do all to provide for her.” “Even though she’s a wanted criminal, she would take that great of a risk?” Detective Lee asked. Yoon-ah smiled softly. “She wouldn’t know that honestly. Park Han Jo lives out in the country, doesn’t have a t.v. she has only a radio that stays on one of those nostalgic music stations. Min Ji Ho could go there, tell her anything and she’d believe her without question.” Both detectives shot each other a knowing look. “We’re going to need all of her contact information.” Detective Park said.

On Wednesday afternoon you and Jin received a call from officer Lee Hoon-So asking if you could come to the station. Once arrived you were directed to his office just outside of the forensics lab “Mr. and Mrs. Kim, thank you for coming so short notice.” Officer Lee said, causing you to blush at the title.  “Not quite Mrs. Kim yet, but soon.” You giggled. “No, he was right the first time.” Jin said, taking your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles; it was now Officer’s lee turn to blush. “Well I asked the two of you here today, to show you the tracking devices we created for both of you. As we know both of your phones will be tracked while you’re at the event, but we also wanted to have something physically on you in the event you get separated. Mr. Kim told me that you two would be wearing the color purple for the evening, so we created these. Mr. Kim, for you, we have a tie pin. And for you, future Mrs. Kim we have this hair clip. If that doesn’t really work for your hair, then we had an alternative idea to sew the tracker into your dress. We wanted to go against anything that seemed like jewelry that could be taken off or removed easily. I’ve seen women who have their hair braided wear little ornaments in them and I thought maybe this would work.” Officer Lee said meekly. You picked up the tiny silver cuff with purple studs over it and sighed softly. It was delicate and beautiful, and it if wasn’t for the nature of it you would have really loved the sweetness of it. “It’s fine officer Lee. Thank you so much for taking the time to create it.” “The night of the event simply wear these, I’ll be with Seo and Song at your place to calibrate them prior to leaving.” You and Jin took your leave and headed back home. “Jinni, do you really think they’ll try something on Friday night?”  You asked voice in between pensive and annoyed. “Honestly Honey, I don’t know but I think so. This has been building to some sort of sick climax and unless the police catch them before then, its got to end somewhere. These aren’t the type of people to just give up and disappear. They tried to murder you. I’m determined to end this for you, with you safe, sound and unharmed.” You turned into Jin and spent the rest of the car ride back home in virtual silence. 

As always Min Ji Ho had a plan. The base of her plan may have been the most elaborate part of her master plan, but all plans needed a base, and this just happened to be hers. She was going to kidnap Actress turned M.C Dara. Dara was set to be the lead entertainment correspondent on the red carpet that night and that was going to be her in to Kim Seokjin. Dara was one of the first looks that Ji Ho had perfected. She loved her carefree attitude, her style of dressing and the way everyone simply seemed to love and adore her. She’d copied everything from her style of dressing, to the way she talked and all of her mannerisms; Dara just wasn’t a look, it was a full-on aesthetic, a way of life of which she wanted nothing more than to truly belong too and live in. The only reason in which Ji Ho dieted was that she could pull off the perfect doppelganger to Dara. Min Ji Ho had carefully followed Dara in the past, even gained access to her home, posing as a cleaning lady and knew exactly all the nooks and crannies of her life. The plan, as Ji Ho saw it, was simple. Right before Dara was to appear on the red-carpet Ji Ho would appear, with the help of Jeong they would secure Dara and her camera man Brian, Ji Ho would then strip her, change in to her clothing, and Jeong would already be dressed in his tuxedo and being that they were together, no one would question the larger man. The pair had already stolen another van identical to the ones used by the entertainment crews. Ji Ho had discreetly followed Dara to her hair appointment and saw how her hair would be styled for the evening and replicated it with ease. While Ji Ho was studying Dara, Jeong was hard at work learning how to work the video camera, after all the broadcast would be live and he would need to know how to handle any situation on the fly with out contacting the production team in the real van. D-Day was a mere hours away and they would both be fully prepared for everything that was about to take place. It had taken a few hours for Detectives Park and Lee to drive out to residence of Park Han Jo located in a neighboring city outside of Seoul. Getting out of the vehicle both detectives got out and stretched. The house was large taking up at least an acre and a half of space. Just as they were about to walk to the gate, a neighbor stopped them. “You looking for Ahjumma? She left early this morning.” The woman said walking up to the two men. “I’m Detective Park and this is Detective Lee, we’re with Seoul Police Department. You said she left this morning do you know where?” “No, I did notice she had two suitcases with her. I know she likes to take trips this Buddhist retreat near Gunsan. I only know she’s gone because the taxi pulling up woke the dog its normally pretty quiet here, so it was unusual.” “Have you notice anything else unusual here, any new people?” Detective Lee asked. “She’s gotten a few deliveries. I can’t say of what, but I noticed she got packages on more than one day  last week and that’s not typical. But you know.” The neighbor shrugged. “Have you seen any additional people at her home, had any visitors?” The neighbor folded her arms across her chest and thought for a minute. “You know I thought that I saw some one put her in the taxi and then go inside but I can’t be sure.” Once again, the detectives exchanged looked with each other. “Ahjumma, do you mind we if we step inside and use your home for a minute and talk?” Detective Lee carefully backed the car up into the garage of the neighbor and joined her along with Detective Park. Once in the house, Detective Park called Chief Tuan and advised that they need a search warrant, and a discreet team to show up in two unmarked cars. One car should contain forensics and the other should have members of the bomb squad. There were to bring items with them to make it look as though they were about to celebrate a birthday. “Mrs. Kang, are you familiar with Min Ji Ho? She the niece of the woman who lives across the way?” Detective Lee asked. “Ahh. Yes, yes. Her pictures are all over Ahjumma’s home. She’s very proud of her, she’s the head nurse at the hospital she works, isn’t she? I think Ahjumma said recently that Ji Ho told her she was dating a very nice young man, they had to keep things a quiet because he’s famous. If I recall correctly.” Detective Park’s eyebrow’s met his hairline. “Do you remember when you had this conversation with Mrs. Park?” Detective Park asked. “ Mmm. It was two weeks ago, I remember that because I had just come back from a casino trip and I was telling her all about it and she had received a post card from Ji Ho.” “Mrs. Kang, I need you to listen very closely to everything I’m about to tell you. In a few hours, two cars are going to arrive full of people. They will be police officers and members of our bomb squad unit and forensic teams. Min Ji Ho is a suspected stalker and maybe aligned with a serial letter bomber, who’s been responsible for the death of three people and injuring a fourth. We are using your place to set up a headquarters so that we can investigate the house across the street and hopefully arrest these two individuals.” Mrs. Kang folded her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly. “Ji Ho dangerous, oh my word! She always seemed like such a sweet girl, she’s had a bit of hard go of things, but she always comes out the other side with a sunny disposition I just simply cannot believe she could be dangerous. There must be some mistake.” “Trust us Ahjumma, there’s no mistake when we attempted to talk to her about this a few days ago she fled from us. She’s very dangerous. If you see her, please don’t approach her; if we’re not here then contact the police immediately.” Detective Lee said. Mrs. Kang nodded her before getting up to pour more tea. “Mrs. Kang, do you have cameras on your home?” Detective Lee ask, noticing the monitor by the front door. “Ahh, yes my kids insisted that I have it, I don’t think its needed by they worry about me being alone. They can tap into me in the home where they live in Daegu and Seoul. It makes them feel better, so I agreed.” “Do you have cameras on the outside too?” Mrs. Kang nodded. “Can we please see your monitors Mrs. Kang?” Detective Park replied. Mrs. Kang got up and ushered the men into her front living room. “The kids connected it to the tv I had no idea on how to work it but if you two know how…” Her voice trailed off as she gestured the remote control for the tv out to the two men; Detective Lee carefully accepted the remote from her hands and started the video feed. Slowly he put the video in reverse until he saw a figure walking out of the gate, and finally a taxi pulling into view. The feed was re-round until it played out fully. Three figures, the taxi driver, Park Han Jo and third heavily covered. The Detectives watched as the taxi driver hurried out of the cab to take the two bags from Park Han Jo, as she and another figured affectionately walked to the car, arms linked, the bundled figured hand patting the top of the older woman’s, hugging her tightly, kissing her cheek and helping get inside the car and closing the door. The figured stayed waving watching as they drove off before walking back behind the gate. The backed up the recording even further to what looked like late Monday night/early Tuesday morning as two figures, one a larger and the original bundled figured walked up to the gate, entered the code and walked inside. The figure was definitely familiar with the place. “That’s definitely them.” Detective Lee said. “Look at the way, the taller figure is walking, that’s consistent with the limp he got after a fight with another inmate in the facility that resulted in a severe injury to his knee.” “Yeah, I agree every part of me is screaming this is them alright. Let’s go forward see if they are still inside or if they have left for the day and how.” Detective Park said. Fast forwarding the tape, the two detectives watched as the two figures exited the home and walk down the block and out of the view of the camera.

“Chief Tuan its been two days and no activity at the home at all. We know they were there but they haven’t returned since they left on Wednesday. It’s now Thursday the premier is tomorrow I suggest we breach the house now.” Detective Park sat across from Chief Tuan at the dinning room table of Mrs. Kang, practically twitching to enter the home of Park Han Jo. “We know they were there, we know they aren’t there now. It’s a perfect time to go in.” Detective Park got up and began pacing. Chief Tuan leaned backed in the chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth and he chewed on his lip; face tight in thought. “Okay. Let’s do this right now. Get everyone assembled. We will do this as quickly as possible.” Detectives Park and Lee, along with Sergeant Nam shot up from their chairs and ran through the house gathering up the teams, getting geared up and prepared to enter in the home of Park Han Jo. Fifteen minutes later the two teams were assembled, Detective Park and Sergeant Nam, carefully the electronically picked the lock for the gate before cautiously moving towards the front door in teams of two. Once there the front door lock was all picked, Sergeant Nam began an initial floor sweep looking for any trip wires and using a depth sensory device checked the floors for any pressure sensitive bombs before moving the team forwards in the house. “Everything looks clear, bring it in guys.” Sergeant spoke into the radio. Detectives Park and Lee leading the way followed by Chief Tuan. “Detective Park, this is Sergeant Yoo, located the van in the garage. Bomb squad is currently going over it.” “Be careful and keep me informed.” Sweeping through the house from floor to floor room to room, it was clear both Jeong Hyun Soo and Min Ji Ho had in fact been staying in the home. Several make-up kits packaging was found, along with articles about the movie premier, catalogues with various dresses circled and hair magazines. “She’s definitely planning on attending the premier, the question is will she look like her self or not.” Detective Lee said. “Among some of the items found is a receipt for a gown and work jumpsuits, some one get online and look this dress up I want everyone to have a copy of what the dress looks like.” He continued. Detective Park carefully walked around the van eyeing all the contents displayed by the bomb squad. “More bomb making materials, fast food wrappers. Nothing to really say where they went after they fled from us on Monday. They may have just parked by the Han river and stayed there until they could have made their way here” Sergeant Yoo said. “I don’t buy that. The had to have acquired another vehicle. We say them walk away from the house and they haven’t been seen since and they wouldn’t just leave the van, we’ve already confirmed the plates don’t match, have you verified the whereabouts of the car it belongs too?” Detective Park asked. “I Sergeant Yang is following up with that right now Sir.” The younger male replied. Detectives Park and Lee met with Chief Tuan. “Sir, all that we know for certain is that they are going to the movie premier, we still don’t know anything and its pissing me off” Detective Lee all but spat out. “It’s like they are constantly two steps ahead of us and we are constantly trying to play catch up.” He added, his frustrations mounting; he sighed as he raked both hands through his hair. Detective Park gripped Detective Lee by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake. “Well this is what we do know, they are planning on being at the movie premier and so will we.”

                                   Friday: Premier Day/Night 

 “Jeong Hyun Soo…” Min Ji Ho cooed at the man as she smoothed on make-up putty and additional make up on to his face. “You are going to be so handsome when I’m done with you; once you’ve got your suit on you will look as though you should be in the movie and not holding a camera in front of all those awful celebrities. Except for Kim Seokjin. He’s perfect remember that, when you are filming him you must make sure he looks like the angel he is. Promise me.” “Will that make you happy?” Jeong mumbled out. “That will make me so happy!” “Then I will do my best for you then.” Jeong smiled showing nearly perfect teeth, the fake dentures Ji Ho insisted he wear impairing his speech. “Today, we will get Dara. Then later tonight we will Kim Seokjin and remind him that he belongs to me and dispose of that thing he’s been associated with.” Ji Ho commented as she applied putty to smooth out the wrinkles near his eyes. “That will make Ji Ho happy, and then we can be together?” Jeong mumbled. “Yes of course.” Ji Ho voice dripped like honey off of a spoon, smiling a smile that didn’t even begin to meet her eyes. Ji Ho had no intention of fulling being with Jeong, as far as she was concerned he was simply a means to an end, and full expendable. As soon as that bitch was dead by the hands of Jeong, and Kim Seokjin was secured she was leaving with him; Jeong would be left holding the bag for murder and kidnapping and she would be on her way to a happy life with the only other person she loved in this world other than her aunt. She’d already made arrangements to travel by boat from Seoul to Jeju Island, and from there to Nagasaki, Japan. In Japan she had already prepared their home where they would live, fully stocked with food and supplies and everything needed to live happily ever after with Kim Seokjin. Later that evening wearing work jumpsuits they knocked on the trailer occupied by Dara. “Delivery Miss.” Ji Ho announced, voice sounding as young as possible. Dara slid opened the van door to the delight of the huge basket of fruit being extended to her; suddenly she was shoved back into her trailer and Ji Ho was on top of her. Dara’s eyes went wild as her arms flailed, she whimpered as the prick of a needle jabbed into the soft spot of her shoulder. Terror filled her eyes as she heard the figures above her speak. “Tie her up good make sure she cannot speak or make a sound.”

“Sweetheart, you are absolutely breathtaking.” Jin smiled fondly at you as his eyes roamed over your sitting figure at the vanity. Jin would never get tired of that sight, you sitting, fussing with your hair, or make-up completing or starting your look, you were absolutely beautiful, and Jin could simply stare and watch you for hours. You turned giggling at him, shooting him a wink as you put on your earrings. You turned back to the mirror and admired yourself, even you would admit that you were absolutely stunning tonight. Femi, Siti, and Sariyah had once again worked their magic on you. Your make-up and nails were expertly done to compliment the purple of your dress. Femi had styled the eighteen inches of box braids you were currently wearing in high bun; the tracking device secured around a braid. “Sweetheart, I’ve got something for you.” You turned smiling at Jin. “Kim Seokjin, you have to stop spoiling me, I will expect this kind of treatment regularly when we’re married at this rate.” You said laughing. Standing up, walking over to you with a box in hand, Jin gently bent at the waist and kissed the shell of your ear. “Well you absolutely should expect it, I’ve got no plans to stop spoiling my girl anytime soon. Tonight, you will be introduced to the world as my queen, and I simply want you to look the part.” Carefully removing the lid from the box, Jin presented you with a silver and pearl accented Swarovski Crystal tiara. The filigree pattern filled with crystal with two tiny pearl accents near the top was simply gorgeous; you sat there utterly speechless as your eyes tried to take in every detail of it. “Do you like (Y/N)?” Jin’s voice full of affection and wonderment. “Jin I… Oh my God, Jin.” Your voice was a breathy sigh. “I showed it to Femi earlier and she said that it would slip right around the base of your bun just like this.” Jin, carefully lifted the tiara from the box and secured it around your high bun, gently pushing it in between the space of a few braids. “There. My Queen now has her proper crown.” Jin placed a sweet kiss against your temple and turned you back to the front of the mirror. The tiara fit perfectly and matched the tear drop earrings you were wearing that night. “Kim Seokjin, I love you!” Your lips crashed on to his as your hands interlocked behind his neck, Jin welcomed the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist drawing you in closer to him. His tongue pulling yours into his mouth, as he began to dominate the kiss; you moaned into the kiss, pressing your body further into his, your hands were making their way to Jin’s belt buckle when the doorbell rang, causing a Jin to groan in frustration. “Worst fucking timing ever!” He said. “Perfect timing actually. I’m not sure we had time for a quickie blowjob anyway.” You stood up, pecking his lips walking out the bedroom, leaving Jin to adjust himself. On the other side of the door stood Seo, Song, and Officer Lee. “Hello Gentlemen, please come in.” Officer Lee stood there slightly frozen, just staring. “Officer Lee is everything alright?” You asked. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Jin said, snaking his arm around your waist and kissing your temple. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. You look beautiful.” Officer Lee finally spoke, making you blush. Over the course of the next ten minutes Officer Lee calibrated both the physical tracking devices that you were Jin were wearing as well as the software that was being used on your phone. A second security briefing was done with Seo and Song and the two you. Finally, the night had arrived.     

[forgetspecifics]

Once upon a midnight dreary (Bumbleby one-shot)

Written on commission from @boom-a-yang​. Shout-out for being the first one to take a chance on me with paid writing. Word count: 3,754

Other links: Ao3 FF.net

Notes: I was given a choice of 4 prompts; it’s written at the end as to not spoil anything.

“Yang,” a voice said quietly, no other sound but the humming of the refrigerator permeating the night’s silence. That was, apart from the incessant tap tap tap at the front door.

The voice tried again, this time louder, small hands shaking awake the heavy sleeper. “Yang!”

A groan signified consciousness from the lump under the duvet, a head of luscious blonde hair rising from its slumber. “What is it? Ruby?” The tired questions came, dazed and confused.

Indeed it was Ruby, Yang’s younger half-sister, pulling her out of dreamland. “Someone’s at the door, they keep knocking,” she informed, looking over her shoulder towards the front door. It was hidden by a divider that formed Yang’s bedroom in their open-plan apartment, yet, Ruby could not help her eyes wandering over there while Yang composed herself.

“The fuck? What time is it?” Yang asked, hauling herself out of bed and into the small kitchen with a glowing digital clock, the device rudely piercing the darkness and hurting her eyes. “It’s one in the morning, damn it,” the older sister was not happy in the slightest.

Ruby appeared behind her, her hushed voice not even close to the average whisper. “It sounded frantic, but you sleep like the dead, and you told me-”

“To not open the door if I was asleep in case you get murdered or something,” Yang finished reciting the rule she had drilled into Ruby’s head (she was at least pleased it had worked). “Ya-huh, I remember. I don’t hear any-”

Knock knock knock.

The two young women stopped in their tracks, mouths shut, testing whatever visitor was interrupting their rest. It wasn’t long before the noise started up again, rapping at the wood faster than the instance a minute ago.

Finally coming completely to, Yang’s annoyance returned. “What is this, an Edgar Allan Poe poem? The only way I’m not gonna be pissed off is if it’s a bird with brain damage waking me up,” she muttered, being cautious to retrieve her knuckledusters from their odds-and-ends drawer in the kitchen. Who knew what awaited her on the other side of that door? She had no other means to protect her and her sister, and their apartment wasn’t exactly in the fanciest neighbourhood nor was it the most secure.

That was their general problem – she couldn’t afford a two bedroom apartment, and there was a lack of luxury in their current one, with no peep-hole in their front door and a broken security chain (that she now wished she’d fixed last week, instead of putting it off).

“Get behind me,” she ushered Ruby with her left arm, who had found her own weapon, their old baseball bat. Smart kid, she mentally praised, before preparing for the worst. She just wanted to sleep, and that meant ridding themselves of the nuisance knocking – impending danger be damned. It also could be someone dying, looking for help, so that motivated her just as much.

Counting down from three, Yang swung the door open in an instant to avoid being rushed and knocked down. The hand that was still poised in mid-air outside their door stopped from surprise as they were greeted by two girls; fists raised and a shoddy wooden bat ready to swing.

The moment passed quickly as recognition between the party inside and the party outside registered, the person at the door throwing themselves bodily at Yang.

The blonde barely had time to react, but managed to not topple over with the added weight. “You scared the shit out of us, Blake,” she was relieved it was only her friend and not a psychopath that was currently clinging to her – but she was still wondering what was going on.

She felt moisture on her chest and small sniffles coming from her black-haired Faunus friend, hastily wrapping her arms, knuckledusters and all, around the slightly shorter frame. “Wait, hey, what’s wrong?”

Now she was worried. It should have been immediate; realising that something wasn’t right. Blake never showed up uninvited (let alone at one a.m.), wasn’t a touchy-feely person, and barely showed emotion most of the time. They were complete opposites in those ways, but still valued each other highly – and she knew it was more than Blake liked to admit.

“I scared you?” Blake finally said, louder than the neighbours probably would have preferred. She was taken inside by Yang, not bothering to resist as she was lifted up without their embrace disturbed. Ruby had backed off seeing the face of a friend, setting her bat down by the door as she closed it. The light from the moon outside was blocked, leaving her little choice but switching on a light.

The sisters then shared a look over the crying girl’s shoulder as Yang held her. Ruby’s face clearly asked for an explanation, but there was none. Silently mouthing back that she didn’t know, Yang simply handed over her weapon and began the comforting process she’d developed and mastered while raising Ruby.

It only took a few moments of moving her palms up and down Blake’s spine to get her to relax a bit, the grip on her tank top loosening. Admittedly Yang had hesitation, having never before hugged Blake for more than a few seconds – she’d have to write this down as a new record on her mental scoreboard.

It usually wouldn’t have mattered; she had no problem respecting people’s personal bubbles, but there was something about Blake that made Yang always wish for more contact. She’d never been able to figure out if she was simply being weird. The answer had finally come as she found that they fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Blake was at least a few inches shorter than her without the ridiculous high heels she liked to wear, as she was still clearly wearing her pyjamas and slippers in her apparent haste to get over to the sisters’ apartment. Which meant her face...was buried in her cleavage.

Yang quickly leaned her upper body away, not even sure that this was the same Blake she had befriended. “What’s gotten into you?”

She must have said it the wrong way, because Blake pushed her away with a strength Yang didn’t expect. “Yang Xiao Long, how dare you.” The Faunus’ usually bright golden eyes were sullen, and the redness present clearly showed she had been crying long before arriving.

Yang wasn’t sure how to respond. The phrase usually indicated she’d done something she shouldn’t have, yet the tone wasn’t accusatory. But Blake was staring, so she had to say something. “Uh, I don’t-”

“I had a terrible nightmare about you,” Blake left no room for her to respond, obviously upset, but seemingly unsure of herself now that they were face-to-face.

Yang could hear the forced calm in her voice, her brain falling further behind in regards to why Blake was acting concerned beyond anything she’d ever expressed before. She’d had a dream and her most reasonable reaction was to physically check up on her at one in the morning?

“Oh,” was all Yang could say, not really finding any answer that would better serve the situation.

Blake’s face fell in an instant and Yang knew she’d said the wrong thing again.

“What am I doing?” Blake unnaturally forced a laugh out, stepping aside to make a beeline for the door. “I shouldn’t have come here-”

“No, it’s okay, really,” Yang worked equally fast to take Blake’s hand to prevent her from going anywhere. She should have been more sensitive – just because she was baffled didn’t mean that Blake hadn’t shown up in tears obviously seeking comfort. Which was what she would get. “Ruby, can you boil some water?”

The brunette, who was observing with her own wonder, nodded and padded over to the small kitchen, knowing exactly what Yang was thinking. Tea for Blake; something for her hands to hold and to distract her. While Blake was closer to Yang, Ruby still knew her pretty well. In fact, Yang was the closest to Blake out of all their friends, much to the confusion of Weiss. I don’t know how you can bear her awful jokes, Blake, was something the petite heiress said often.

Yang lead Blake by the hand to her bedroom. She hated calling it a bedroom when it wasn’t a room at all, just a double bed in a corner surrounded by privacy screens, but that was just the way things were. Yang didn’t mind giving Ruby her own room; as long as she could sleep she was good.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Yang coaxed over the sound of a rumbling kettle, pulling her friend down to sit on the mattress and mussed bedcovers.

Blake fidgeted, zoning out and scanning the not-room; the two solid walls devoid of art while the makeshift walls were tacked with a never-ending supply of pictures of friends and family, and the floor littered with laundry and shoes. Yang had a lot of shoes. She was brought back by a gentle touch on her arm; warm and soft. Yang was warm and soft, the designated mom-friend, but also a kind and generous individual that was considerate of everyone she cared about.

Right, that’s why she was here. To see Yang. “Y- you were in my dream and... I tried calling you, and it went straight to voicemail. I had to come all this way.”

Knowing its shrill tone would have woken her, Yang pondered. “My phone didn’t ring. I put it on to charge before I went to sleep,” she crawled to her beside table to find the power cable dangling precariously in the charge port, evidently indicating she had failed to do as she claimed. The phone was devoid of life as she attempted to turn it on. “I didn’t plug it in properly, it’s dead.”

Her words again had the opposite of the intended effect, causing Blake to make small wail and bury her head in her hands. Yang had never scrambled on all fours so quickly in her life, wrapping Blake in a hug, feeling like she really had done something she shouldn’t have.

“Blake, calm down. Everything’s fine, it was just a bad dream,” she repeated her earlier process, Blake turning into her chest as the kettle finally came to a boil and tuned off with a click in the background.

“It felt so real. I had to make sure you were okay.”

Yang had to listen closely to catch the mumbled words as they were sufficiently...muffled. She tried not to think about Blake’s face in her cleavage, and to think about the real issue. It seemed that something had happened to her in Blake’s dream, something bad enough to shake the normally stoic girl.

She needed to hear more. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Blake didn’t answer right away, and she didn’t move. It felt like an eternity had passed when she finally did speak. “I saw you die, Yang. It was so horrible, I don’t even remember waking up because I was in tears, and-”

“Hey, c’mon now. You don’t have to explain yourself, you were scared,” Yang had heard enough. She knew that Blake didn’t have the most carefree childhood, and that she tended to overthink a lot of things. “Try not to think about what you saw and focus on me.” Yang had figured out over the years that reassurance had to be given quickly, before Blake’s overthinking turned into self-blame, but luckily (or because of her persistence) Blake had come to trust her enough to open up more – instead of pretending nothing was wrong.

Blake’s hands only moved to encircle Yang’s waist, the Faunus thinking herself better off anchored, in case somehow either of them slipped away into oblivion. Still, she wasn’t sure that she could forget what had unfolded right in front of her.

“What if you’re just a dream too?” Her imagination wasn’t always her friend and her mind was often fooled by it.

There was an easy answer to that, but Yang was never one to give the easy answers. “Then you dream about me an awful lot.” She couldn’t help but smile; the thought that Blake’s subconscious was fond of her made her a tiny bit giddy, a familiar feeling she always had when making teasing jokes and comments that elicited a smirk from Blake that she always tried to hide.

“I do not,” Blake said, not bothering to even look at Yang, no doubt hiding her amusement.

Yang continued with her sarcastic wit, satisfied it would distract Blake from her worries. “Wouldn’t want me to know how much you like me, right?”

This time, Blake detached herself, rolling her eyes. “Real or not, you’re insufferable,” she felt better already, her retort rolling off her tongue easily.

Ending their verbal sparring match before it could really begin, Ruby entered the space. “Hey, Blake,” she handed the Faunus a mug of brewed tea, who accepted it gratefully.

Letting the warmth of the cup spread to her hands, Blake gave the younger sister an apologetic smile. “Ruby, I’m sorry for waking you both.”

Ruby, being Ruby, waved it off. Blake was a good friend of theirs. “It’s no big deal. Yang’s really good at this stuff,” she knew that everyone, including herself, could turn to her big sister if they needed to.

Blake nodded, bringing her tea to her lips, her face changing to one of scepticism as she drank. “This is my favourite tea,” she stated, glancing at Yang.

“Yup,” the blonde replied, thinking nothing of it.

“I thought you said this was your favourite tea, sis,” Ruby too grew sceptical, having already been suspicious when Yang had randomly started to drink tea years ago.

Yang was a terrible liar, and it was a well-known fact. She was cornered by her traitorous sibling, and all she could do was grimace as she was caught red-handed.

Ruby grinned sneakily, as she always did when finding something to tease Yang about. “I knew you only started drinking tea because of Blake,” she’d always thought that Blake was the reason, but had no way of proving it – she’d suddenly got lucky, and seeing her big sister blush was incredibly rewarding.

“Yeah, well!” Yang decided to bring out the big guns. “You only study when Weiss is looking, you nerd!”

Ruby gasped, indignant at the accusation. “Weiss is scary! Blake isn’t!” She turned to shrug at Blake, “no offence.”

“None taken,” Blake sat back and watched the sibling rivalry with amusement.

Yang, being the slightly more mature one, shook her head at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Arguing when they should have been sleeping, especially Ruby, whom she didn’t like to know was losing sleep. “I think everything’s under control now, Rubes. You can go back to bed.”

Sensing the deliberateness in her words, Ruby couldn’t really argue with that. Still, she couldn’t help but still be concerned about her friend. “Are you feeling better, Blake?”

“Much better, in fact,” Blake gave her a small smile over her tea cup, feeling slightly more guilty about keeping the younger girl up than she did about bothering Yang.

“Glad to hear it. Goodnight, guys.”

Bidding her goodnight in return, Blake and Yang were then enveloped in the gravity of what had transpired. Late night comforting had definitely been a first for them, but neither of them could really complain.

Yang turned on her lamp, getting up to shut off the ceiling light that had illuminated most of the large room before. The soft glow reminded her of how late it was, feeling the urge to nod off invade her senses.

“Speaking of going back to bed,” she said jokingly, trying to segue into the topic without implying she blamed Blake for anything.

But of course, Blake couldn’t hide the way her cat ears folded down. “I’ve put you out, I’m sorry. I really should get going-”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Yang backpedalled, racing back to Blake’s side. “Just lay back for a bit, I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Blake put her tea down on the nightstand, unsure of how to proceed. Deep down, she hoped that Yang didn’t, despite her nervousness. She was used to Yang’s kindness, but was still feeling undeserving of it, and unfamiliar with how she craved close proximity with the blonde.

“Not at all,” as if that wasn’t enough, Yang relaxed into her pillows, pulling Blake down along with her.

Blake merely squeaked in surprise, but made no protest. Instead of her head finding a pillow, she was aware that it had landed on Yang’s shoulder. Yang chuckled slightly, readjusting her arm so she had Blake in a side-hug, feeling content with the decision as her friend made no effort to move. Revelling in Yang’s natural body-heat, Blake tried to push away how she’d sworn she could feel the coldness of the Yang in her dream. She couldn’t stop herself asking aloud, “What do you think it means? My dream?”

“It doesn’t mean anything bad is going to happen,” Yang said quietly, hating that Blake might be blaming herself for something that she had no control over. Blake didn’t respond, so she gave a more definitive answer. “If anything, and excuse my smugness, it means you’re afraid to lose me.” Yang was aware that she was often borderline flirting with Blake, but it came so naturally to her. From the very beginning, she’d felt some evel of attraction to the mysterious girl, and it had never really gone away.

That elicited a sigh from Blake. “Of course you’re smug,” she didn’t deny the suggestion; not ever bothered with the way Yang seemed to push the boundaries of their friendship. It was almost as if there were no boundaries to push – which was odd considering how guarded Blake was when it came to most people.

“I’ll never let you live it down, Blakey.” The smirk was tangible in Yang’s words.  Whether it was from the teasing or the nickname, Blake would never know.

“Don’t call me that,” Blake automatically scolded her. They lay there for a beat or two, playfulness ebbing away into companionable silence. Still, Blake wondered about why she’d actually needed such reassurance over a stupid dream. “You don’t think I overreacted?”

“Nope,” Yang said with conviction, making sure to hug Blake a little tighter. “I’m touched that you felt you had to see me with your own eyes.”

Blake had nothing to say to that. It sounded genuine, and at that very second, she’d never felt more grateful that she’d met Yang. She retrieved her cup of tea, thankful for whatever forces that rewarded her with the friends she’d found, happy to savour her favourite brew...and the presence of her friend.

It was a fair while before she saw the bottom of her cup, the warmth having faded from it. She still had Yang, though, who hadn’t made a peep the entire time. Blake turned her head to see the blonde struggling to keep her own upright, lilac eyes fluttered shut.

“Yang,” Blake said gently, the stark opposite of the way Ruby had woken her earlier.

Yang slowly cracked one eye open. “’Sup?”

Blake smiled fondly at the effort Yang had gone to for her this very early morning. “You’re almost falling asleep. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s too late for you to go home, you can just crash here,” Yang blindly grabbed for her duvet to slip under, but paused when Blake made no move to follow. “You’re totally welcome in my bed,” she held the blanket up, her offer not really made to refuse.

“I had no idea you were that desperate to get me into bed,” Blake remarked, putting aside her empty cup. It was easier to tease Yang when she wasn’t on her game, and a sleepy Yang was very much off her game.

“And I had no idea you dreamed about me,” Yang said, not missing a beat. Maybe she wasn’t entirely off her game. Yet, it sounded more like a happy revelation than anything else.

The Faunus once again deflected as she settled herself into the mattress. “I’m willing to bet good money that you dream about me too.” Betting money was something that Yang loved to do, especially with Nora (that girl was crazy). But to her surprise, her challenge was not met.

“You can’t prove nothin’, Belladonna,” Yang reached out from the covers to switch off the lamp, bathing them in black.

Blake let her eyes adjust, watching Yang closely as her already drowsy state took over once again. Instead of betting against her, Yang hadn’t even denied it. Her answer was ambiguous at best, prompting Blake to wonder if that had meant at all to sound like an admission that, yes, Yang did dream about her.

Blake knew that her brain would work overtime when it came to interpreting the things that came out of Yang’s mouth, always hoping that she never took offhanded comments the wrong way. Yet, this time, she had a gut feeling she’d gotten it right.

Yang, who was steadily drifting off, almost jumped as her hand was brushed against. Fingertips curled around her palm with a featherweight touch. “What’re you doing?” Blake never held her hand – not unless Yang made her, and that was rare in itself.

“I’d rather not have another nightmare, so, now I’ll know you’re still here.”

Well, that was a contender for the most adorable thing Yang had ever heard in her life. Since they’d already knocked down the wall of physical contact tonight, she didn’t feel one bit guilty moving over to be Blake’s big spoon. “There. Nothing to worry about, now.” Her hand was guided into a hug around Blake’s waist as the Faunus snuggled the slightest bit towards her. If she had had any idea how fond Blake was going to become of her tonight, she would have prepared herself. Wrote a speech, maybe.

“Thank you,” Blake didn’t say what for, but she didn’t have to.

And a speech might have been overkill, Yang realised. They seemed to communicate better with fewer words that held more meaning and intention, like it was their own language. And unspoken words were the most valuable thing of all.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Blake.”

And it took all of Yang’s willpower to not make a sound when she woke up the next morning to a rumbling purr on her chest.

Prompt: Imagine that Person A isn’t normally the emotional type. One night, however, they show up at Person B’s place, eyes red from crying. Turns out they had a vivid nightmare about Person B dying, and they wanted to make sure their friend/crush/datefriend/whatever was okay. Person B is touched by this rare display of emotion from A, and they let A stay with them for the night.

I liked this AU so you might see it again one day.

[yesterdaysallknowing]

Train

If there was one thing she loved about the overnight train rides, it was that people were so willing to talk. Sure, they got a bit irked by her knowledge, and when she wasn’t informing them of the exact time, space and ideologies of events that have, will have or are taking place she would be talking into a tape recorder or drinking a cup of tea, but they were willing to talk. If anything, that was enough. She hardly took part in conversation anyway, so these overnight train rides were a good refresher.

The things she hated about these train rides was when she would step onto a train, knowing she’d go somewhere but ending up in an entirely different place. When things like that happened, she blamed Center. She was also impartial to when people were stupid, which was most of the time for an omniscient being, but that was beside the point.

Stepping onto the train that would take her from Montpellier, France to London, England, (Called the Liaison Line, crossing the Paisible Bridge in this universe. It was to celebrate the peace between the UK and Europe after the Euro War,) she knew that they would run into a snowstorm on the way, but the heated bridge and tracks would lead to there being no inconvenience for the passengers. After boarding at 8:24PM, she knew she would arrive at 5:19AM the next day, travel to a hotel, have an argument with the Fake Doctor without a PHD (she didn’t like him. He/She caused too many inconveniences after which she’d go to the Cafe with the rest of the Fragments and have a ridiculous amount of tea), talk to a detective who couldn’t do his job and always left it to someone else, and record for her news podcast exclusive to this Universe - but it could be found in other Universes as a transcript, written out by a friend of Center’s.

Walking to her room, she sipped an iced tea she’d bought out of a vending machine. It took exactly 5.687 seconds for her to drink all of it before she deposited it in a bin. Without looking up from the book she was writing in, she stopped to let a rushing man pass, stepped over a dropped towel, and ducked a paper airplane that flew past her. These random series of events would lead to two children meeting who would eventually become close friends and pioneers of the Space Exploration program, successfully completing the first colony on Mars. She knew this, as she knew everything. It didn’t stop her from being annoyed, however.

“I understand your inferior brains cannot comprehend this, but you really have to stop being so careless.” She told one of the train’s staff. “You humans really are stupid to think yourselves so intelligent. I am, of course, a human as well, so stop assuming that I’m not. I’m just a smarter human than you. Unfortunately, I am also one of the two biggest idiots in the galaxy, but that’s beside the point. It just means that I am not a smart as I think I am, but I am much smarter. Really, you don’t think these things through, do you, Observer?”

The staff blinked - as far as she was concerned, further proof of human stupidity - stumbling over words as she walked away. Her cabin was the third on the right, and she stepped in, vaguely annoyed at what she knew would happen next - she’d discover a stain of menstrual blood on her bed, left by the previous occupant.

That’s not what happened though.

Landing in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, in the capital of the nation Chaoji, (The city was called Hizumi, a ridiculous pun on the Japanese word for identification, as far as she cared to know), was something she did not expect. Her omniscience quickly adjusted, and she turned a middle finger to the sky.

Fuck you, Center. You’re an idiot. I’m going to get you for this. In twenty hours, I’ll take over that dumb social media account you made.

She didn’t sigh, as that was an activity only idiots partook in. She instead stood up, ducked the bullet that flew over her head, and walked to cover, not glancing at the man she ended up sitting next to behind the bolder.

“Now.” She told him, factoring in the time it would take the noseless young man beside her to react.

Sure enough, a blast of fire emitted from his lighter, and after the screaming from the agressor and noseless man ceased, she stood up.

“You’re an idiot, Crow.” She told him.

Crow brushed off his suit, also standing. “Now, now, who are you? And would a fair lady like you be willing to accompany me to the Afterworld?” “No. I will not entertain your stupidity. Instead, in a few hours, we will finally reach a means of exit after travelling the most direct route. I will then kill you in full view of your idiotic friends, you will go to the Afterworld alone, return after seeing the Blue idiot, and crash your own funeral. Let’s go.”

She began walking immediately, following the most direct route to the exit. Crow struggled to catch up, his freshly ignited burns causing him pain as he ran. When he was beside her, he matched her stride, smirking at her.

“So, creep lady, what’s your name? And mind explaining to an old bird what’s going on?”

She sighed, turning to Crow. “My name is Aral, and it’s a miracle you haven't heard my name. You just started a chain of events with dastardly consequences, and now we’re all fucked, idiot. Your only available option is to follow me.” Aral turned on her heel, heading towards what she knew - and, as all Omniscient Beings knew, she was absolutely correct.