#step 4: find out pretty man is actually much nicer than he likes to say he is

[orcelito]

FACE. IN MY HANDS....

i just saw the interaction with dohalim and fahria

ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

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The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus part 4

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

“I will grant them handsome features and beguiling voices,” the maiden whispered, her own voice dripping with honey “that all who great them will be blessed from the meeting.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Remus grinned smugly when Romulus was deposited back in in their room, their nanny shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Urghh.” Romulus whined as he hurled himself face first onto Remus’ bed, making his giggling brother bounce from the impact. “But it should have! It always does in the stories!”

What was the point of having a twin, Romulus wondered if they couldn’t even switch places to get him out of boring geography lessons?

Remus poked him until Romulus rolled over onto his side to pout at his brother.

“It’s because I’m better lookin’ than you.” Remus told him cheerfully.

Romulus thwacked him with a pillow. “We’re identical!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus grabbed a second pillow from the floor, “I’m still the cute one!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are to – oof!”

The pillow fight soon descended into a wrestling match, their shrieks and giggles echoing through the bed chamber.

Eventually they ran out of breath and Remus flopped back down on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Romulus collapsed on the floor amongst the fallen pillows, batted Remus’ foot away from his face and gazed up at the family portrait hanging above their fire place.

They were identical. The artist had taken care to draw the crown prince a little bigger than his brother, closer to the forefront of the picture, but even so; their hair, eyes, nose - everything was the same.

Romulus glanced up at his brother, who was currently digging snot out his nose with every sign of enjoyment. Romulus gagged. They were not the same -Remus was gross!  

Except.

Everyone said what a handsome young man Remus was growing up to be. How brightly his eyes sparkled.  How confidently he held himself, even as a child. They never said that stuff about Romulus.

Remus shone, even when he was being gross.

“Your voice is better.” Remus said suddenly, snapping Romulus out of his sulk.

“What?”

“Your voice.” The older twin lent over the bed, staring his brother in the eye “It’s nicer than mine, ‘specially when you sing.” Romulus beamed, showing off his gap toothed smile. Their parents had hired teachers to drill both boys on the lute and harpsicord, but Romulus’ talent for singing was all him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Remus smiled back at him. He’d lost a baby tooth that week too – one of his canines, giving him lopsided fangs. “And you’re way better at crying.”

“What! Well – your feet are stinker!”

“You’re worse at pranks!”

“Well you’re worse at fencing!”

“But l I’m the best at tickling!” declared Remus and leapt from the bed, pinning Romulus with his knee whilst his fingers attacked his brothers armpits.  The younger prince’s peals of laughter and cries for mercy were so loud nanny came rushing back to check on them, finding the future rulers of Notaleveale wrapped around each other on the floor, covered in dust and wearing matching smiles.

“I will grant them strength and creativity.” The mother smiled, she had a thousand eyes and all of them twinkled under the halls many candles “so that their rule will never be questioned.”

“Lord Venchi?”  Romulus asked.

The royal treasurer, normally one of the more composed members of his father council, was pacing the entrance hall alone, what little hair he had left sticking up in all directions as he tugged at it.

“Oh, Your Highness!” The he gasped when he caught sight of Romulus, “oh thank goodness! He-“

Romulus sighed. “What has my brother done now?”

Romulus had spent the morning on a rare visit into town, missing the days council meeting. It was completely unfair -  Romulus attended meetings almost daily, under Julius supervision, as part of his training to one day take over managing whichever aspect of the kingdom bored the future King Remus the most. They were mind numbingly dull sessions and it was only Julius’ steady glare that kept Romulus’ eyes open and his face attentive.

But today, visitors from the far south were attending. Which meant the session might actually be interesting. Which meant Remus got to go, and Romulus was immediately barred from entry. Instead, his father had asked him to represent the family at the ceremonial graduation of the latest batch of city watch recruits. So, instead of hearing tales from beyond the kingdoms borders, he had spent most of the day on a podium waving dispassionately at a crowd of braying onlookers.

It was always daunting, being around so many common folk. They lacked the decorum of the nobles at court. Whilst most seemed content to gape and sigh at him from a distance, there was always one who would shout out ‘my prince, look at me!’, ‘come here!’, ‘kiss my baby!’

Even with his fathers voice ringing in his ears – “no matter what you hear, stay by your guards side until you are back in the palace.” – Romulus had spent the day tense and unhappy, pinpricks of pain dancing in his skull. By the time he was allowed to speak he had quite forgotten his prepared speech and been forced to make up a quick poem on the spot. The crowd had seemed happy enough – the watch captain had tears in his eyes - but he knew neither Julius or his parents would be happy with his improvising once his guards had reported in.

He had hoped to get a few hours alone before the inevitable lecture, and were it anyone else he might have tried to sneak by without getting pulled into whatever chaos Remus had caused.

But Venchi was an old ally, one who had served his father wisely for years and who always took the time to compliment Romulus on his few measured contributions to the councils discussions, or to explain carefully any point he had missed.

He had also seen Remus at council. There shouldn’t have been anything left that the older prince could do to shock him to this extent.

“He-“ the old man looked like he couldn’t quite believe his own words, “He flipped the table.”

Romulus stared at him. The council table was ancient and enormous, made of a stone so old it’s real name has been lost. Moving it was impossible, the palace had practically been built around it.

“The Arkazeii  ambassador is being seen by a healer.” Venchi continued, “but I believe his foot Is broken, I-“

The side door behind them slammed open suddenly, crashing into the wall with enough force to make the hanging portraits shake. “I said.” Remus roared, a snarl on his handsome face, “Leave me alone!”

His voice was so forceful Romulus found he had taken three steps towards the main door before he stopped himself, face flushing. The order hadn’t been meant for him. Julius, who had clearly been chasing after the young crown prince, was now openly glaring down at Remus, two spots of colour high on his cheeks.

“Your highness I must insist-“

“Seriously?” Remus cackled, “You’re insisting?  Juju, honestly, I am not interested in what you have to say.” He barred his teeth at the King’s advisor, eyes wild,  “If my father wants me he can come get me himself but if not you can go and -oh.”

“Hello Remus.” Romulus sighed, giving the shortest bow he could get away with, “I hear your meeting went well.”

Remus eyes narrowed “Hello Romy, have fun getting your butt kissed in town?” he slug his arm around his brother’s neck, adopting a high pitched, sing song tone in apparent impression of the townsfolk “Oh Prince Romulus, you’re sooo clever and handsome and perfect. Won’t you pretty please sign an autograph and let me suck your di-“

“Your highness, please!” Venchi looked disgusted “There is no need for vulgarity.”

“Aww hey Vee! Wow, your hair is really going, you know the balder you get the more you look like my ballsack? Romy – I’m serious, picture him with two heads”  he held up his thumbs and index fingers and positioned them in front of the red-faced treasurer like a frame “I can’t be the only one that sees this.”

“You are.” Romulus snapped, shrugging his brothers arm off of his shoulders, “Did you really break the Arkazeii ambassadors foot?”

“The Arkazeii ambassador deserved it.” Remus snarled, good humour vanishing instantly. “They want to dig up Orenlla till it’s hollow. Use the rock to turn their sky black. Have you heard the stories outta that place? All the chickens are dying, ’s a travesty.”

“The chickens are- what? Just. Whatever. Not liking his trade ideas doesn’t mean you can hurt him!”

Remus eyes were always sparkling. Like a man on the brink of madness. “I can do whatever I want little brother.” He grinned at him with too many teeth, “you should try it sometime.”

“Your sons have all the makings of rulersss” the final fae smiled, her one golden eye glinting in the depth of her cloak. “My gift is for you. I give your children honestly and obedience.” She smiled sweetly, “May they bring you joy.”

“Your father is sick” Julius told him.

I know that Romulus thought but didn’t say. Watching the old man carefully.

They were in Julius practice room, at the top of the northmost turret, where Romulus had spent so much of his childhood.

“There is of course, still hope. And we have the finest healers, from every corner of the Kingdom.” Julius was pacing as he spoke, wringing his hands. It was profoundly odd, to see the old man so unsettled. But he had known Romulus’ father from when they were both boys. He loved him, as much as he was capable of loving anyone, and he loved the kingdom that he helped rule.

So Romulus found he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been with what Julius said next.

“Your brother cannot be allowed to take the throne.”

Since Romulus curse had been recognised, his parents had taken great pains to limit the brothers’ interactions, for both of their safety.

Remus could not keep a secret.

Remus was honest. He was honest at their mothers funeral when he’d announced to the mourners that she was ‘a bitch by anyone’s definition’ and honest later than evening when he’d sobbed into Romulus’ shoulder and cried that he would miss her.

He was honest when he announced to Romulus causally, over are rare shared meal, that he dreamed about killing him. “I’d do it with a morning star” he told him, slapping his spoon down onto the head of a roasted tomato and watching the red pulp fly about his plate. “Just like that.”

He was honest when he forced his way into Romulus’ room at night, shook him awake and told him, shaking, that the palace was haunted. That voices whispered to him from every corner - so loud that he couldn’t sleep.

He was honest when Romulus asked him, baffled, why are you telling me this. “I trust you.” Remus admitted, his voice thick, “You’re the only one I can trust.”

Just because he was honest, didn’t mean he was right.

Romulus gazed at Julius, his face carefully blank – a skill he had perfected over many council meetings.- and said “I don’t think you can order me to change our birth order.”

“No.” Julius smiled, and had the decency to look pained. “That’s not what I’m going to ask.”

In this room, Julius had tried every trick to strip Romulus of his curse. And when he failed, he’d dedicated himself to learning every possible way it could be exploited. In order to help protect him, of course.

“Sit there and listen to me until I finish.”

If Romulus didn’t hear an order in full, even if he could guess it, it could be ignored. As a child he’d sometimes escape his teachers simply by running away before they could give him the next task.

“The next time you lay eyes on your brother, kill him. Ensure no one can trace it back to you.”

Vague orders were still orders, and often more effective than those that were too direct. If he couldn’t prevent someone from seeing him, then he would have to kill the witness too in order to obey the instructions in full.

“Let no one know you did it. Tell no one of our conversation”

There was, by now, a long list of things Romulus was forbidden from talking about. It was one of Julius’ favourite orders to give.

“If anyone contradicts this order, ignore them.”

Contradictions were tricky. Normally the most recent order would take precedence, but often enough once the newer order had been completed, the old one would return.

“Do you understand me, Price Romulus?”

Romulus nodded and some of the tension left Julius’ shoulders.

He smiled at Romulus then, and lent over the bush back a strand of hair that had fallen across the young man’s face. He left his hand on Romulus cheek and gazed at him like he really was a kindly old mentor and Romulus his favoured pupil.

“This year, it will be the rise of King Romulus. You will be a just and fair ruler. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

As the second son of a King, Romulus future had never been certain.

His parents discussed it often. He should have become a commander in the army, or a leader of the church or married off to a neighbouring princess and become king in his own right. With all options too likely to lead to discovery however, it had been decided he would stay home, construct a reputation of studious detachment and become his brothers distant advisor.

Help him. Protect him.

Like Julius protected them.

Instead, Romulus ran away and became Roman.

Roman was loud and confident and sprouted poetry and song without hesitation. He basked in the attention from crowds and flirted  with every pretty face who crossed his path. He worked and earned for himself and argued back with anyone who disagreed with him and never sat still if he could help it. He kept Romulus and his memories of home buried so deep sometimes he forgot he’d ever had another name.

Even so, there had always been, at the back of his mind, the paranoia of this day. When he would be found. Recognised. Forced back to Romulus life.

He just didn’t think when it happened it would be so embarrassing.

They’d reached a fork in the road. The Marquis paused and whipped his head from side to side, presumably checking for witnesses although it looked more like he was trying to shake water free from his ears. He stepped in front on Roman.

“You.” He enunciated slowly and loudly “Turn left. Okay? Le – e -e f -t”

Roman stared at him.                                  

He had been kidnapped by an idiot.

With great deliberation he rested all his weight on one foot and turned left. And then kept turning, spinning in a circle a few times until the Marquis hissed “no!” and grabbed his arm.

And then dropped it immediately, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

“You. Just – follow me, alright? This way.”

Roman rolled his eye but did as he was told.  The man could have just told him in the beginning to follow him to wherever their destination was, and Roman would have done so. There was no need to give him a new instruction every few paces. But if the Marquis – what was his first name? Romulus must have known at some point – didn’t know the ins and outs of his curse then Roman wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

They continued on, the Marquis stopping every three feet to stare at him, or repeat some instruction, or glare at a crumpled map in his hands. Roman despaired. Romulus had had a crush on this man.

At first, Roman assumed he would lead him towards the Royal Palace and present his find to the Princess or to whatever other Notalevealian nobles were already here for the coronation. But instead he tugged him away from the wider streets, back down hill towards the main sprawl of the city.

“Where are you taking me, villain?” Roman asked after twenty minutes of marching “because I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that street lamp three times already.”

“Somewhere where your little friend won’t be able to help you.” the Marquis muttered, glaring at the lamp in question.

Roman felt his heart freeze. His friend?

He supposed it made sense. There was no conceivable way they could have been followed in the woods. Not without Patton or Virgil noticing. The Marquis must have spotted him in the market and followed from there, which means he would have at least seen Logan, perhaps the others too since he had been at the tavern…

Although why would a noble be at the Stevangie street market?

He tried not to let his anxiety show on his face, puffing his chest out and summoning his most haughty glare.

“Listen to me, lordling, if any harm should come to them I will personally-“

“Them?” The Marquis stumbled, map fluttering to the floor. When he spun to glare at Roman his eyes were enormous. “How many are there?”

Roman blinked, haughty glare ruined by his genuine confusion. “Erm,” he tried “lots?”

The Marquis audibly gulped, but before Roman could even attempt to interpret that the man’s face brightened, his gaze caught on something behind Roman. He smirked, some swagger returning to his step.

“No matter.” He said and grabbed Romans arm, dragging him towards a nondescript building in the centre of the street, unlocking the door and shoving the bard through.

It was a bath house. The back entrance, perhaps, but the damp in the air and smell of scented soap was unmistakable.

Roman tried, in his sleep-deprived, underfed, over-stressed state, to come up with a reasonable explanation for this.

He had nothing.

“Why-“

“Shut up” The Marquis snapped. “Walk that way.” He pushed Roman down a long corridor, past arched doorways through which he caught a glimpse of the bathhouse proper, and into a dusty looking stairwell. He had produced a candle from somewhere, but the dim light did very little to illuminate anything as they gingerly picked their way down.

When they finally reached the bottom floor Roman squinted to see boxes and crates of empty bottles– a storage room? But he had no time to take it all in before he was being dragged through another pair of doors. Two more rooms and another set of stairs later and the Marquis finally stopped.

The room he’d led them to was hot and humid. Sweat dripped down Romans nose after only a few seconds. At first he couldn’t work out what the noise that filled the room was, until his eyes adjusted enough to see the tubes running from the floor to ceiling.

“You’re lucky to see this.” The Marquis had to raise his voice over the rush of running water to be heard “This room is a modern miracle – the lifeblood of the city!”

Steveange’s heated bath houses were famous. So much so even Virgil had heard of them, and he seemed to take pride in knowing nothing about the outside world. Roman had assumed the city must have been built on hot springs or some other natural source, but this was something else.

“The furnace is below us.” The Marquis explained, as he propelled Roman towards the back wall. “The pipes bring water from the river, it’s heated and pumped up and out to every bathhouse in the city.”

He grinned with something like pride as he tapped one of the  pipes above Romans head, making it sing, “Arkazeii engineering and Orenllan iron. Lined with Orenllan copper of course…give me your jacket.”

“But. Notaleveale doesn’t trade it’s ores” Roman blinked rapidly, trying to remove the sweat from his eyes, as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Jacket was a generous term – it was a silken red thing, better suited to performances than travelling. But he enjoyed the way it billowed as he walked. The Marquis took it and without so much as a moments respect for the garment, ripped one of the sleeves clean off.

“Hey!”

“You’ve been away a long time.” the Marquis snarled, “you little fae touched traitor.”

Roman gaped at him, even as the man grabbed his right arm and began attempting to tie it to the nearest pipe.

“I used to look up to you” the Marquis continued, “you were everything a Prince should be. But you betrayed your father and put a curse of madness on your brother - all because of your own petty jealousy!”

He squeezed Romans wrist with enough force to leave bruises. And stepped back to admire his handywork. The silky material had no grip and it was painfully obvious the man was not used to getting his hand dirty. The resulting knot looked more like a bow. “You are no prince of mine.”

“Lucius.“ Roman knew he’d known his name. “That’s not true. That’s- that’s not even a clever story! Who came up with that?”

“Shut up.” Some of the panic from the journey had come back to Lucius’ eyes but it faded quickly “And don’t think you can scare me with my name, there is more iron in this room then anywhere else in the city.”

He grinned at Roman nastily. “Your little friends aren’t coming to save you.”

Roman stayed quiet, mind whirling. They thought Remus was cursed?

Well. He was. But not in the way Lucius seemed to believe.

They wouldn’t send a mad man to another kingdoms coronation would they? Had the seller actually been certain Remus was coming?

Tied up, exhausted and with a man who seemed to hate him glaring down, Roman started to giggle in giddy relief.

Lucius stepped back, looking unsettled, before reaching out, roughly grabbing Romans chin and shoving the remnants of his jacket into his mouth. “Stay here,” he told him, slowly and clearly “until I come back with your transport.”

He stood, taking the candle with him to the door. He paused for one moment before leaving, the flickering light illuminating a cruel smirk. “You had better hope I can arrange it before the furnaces come back on.” And he was gone.

Roman glanced above himself into the darkness, where his wrists were strapped tight to the currently cool metal. A rush of fear went through him, finally bringing him down from the giggling hysteria.

Alone In the dark, tried to think.

Roman was a bad friend. He lied to his companions as easy as breathing and took his own fears out on them.

Romulus was a bad prince. He had abandoned his kingdom and his subjects and allowed some sort of conspiracy to spring up in his wake.

But he was a good brother. Remus was alive. And he would stay that way.

After all, this afternoon he thought that Remus was here. That he would have to confront his past, escape the city, evade every member of the Notalevealian court and his  own friends and steal a horse.

Now all he had to do was get out of this basement and outwit one idiot who could barely tie knots and hadn’t even thought to pat him down to check for hidden daggers.

Easy-peasy he thought, his eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally overtook him.

Part 5

[lovethisletters]

The Bat & The Lantern || Batman x Reader

Hi, lovely! I had so much fun writing this (I'm not gonna lie, I was quite nervous at first, since I don't know that much about the whole green lantern universe, but guess it turned out...ok?) so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and to be honest, I would like to revisit this story again in the future!

Little disclaimer: The reader is a Human green lantern but similar to star-lord she lived the majority of her life in space, that's why she's so oblivious as to whom Batman is, also this takes place during Dick Grayson early years as robin (12-13).

Word count: 2233!!!

Summary: Reader is a new member of the Justice League...but Batman doesn't seem too happy about it.

Keys: Y/S/N: Your Superhero Name | Y/N: Your (real) Name.

Hal Jordan was your friend since you joined the green lanterns (which it was barely 3 or 4 years ago)

Basically...you were "new"

But that didn't stop your fellow green lanterns (?) From seeing all your potential.

Everyone is convinced that with the right training and perseverance, you will become one of the greatest green lanterns of all time.

So, it didn't take long before you proved yourself to be capable enough to join the big leagues.

More specifically, The Justice League.

Hal was the one to introduce you to his companions.

The Amazonian, the human looking alien, the speedster, the other Alien not so human looking, the half robot; everyone was so nice to you since they met you.

Everyone except...The grumpy bat.

When you first introduced yourself, he didn't even bother to be as welcoming as the others.

He just stood there, looking all big and serious that you almost thought it was a statue or the poor guy had catatonic lapses or was way too shy or socially awkward to approach you.

You felt bad, so you approached him instead.

—Hi! I'm Y/S/N...—You said enthusiastically before being abruptly interrupted.

—I know, I heard your introduction already—His voice so devoid of any kind of emotion that you may as well had been talking to a machine.

"Scanning complete, Batman"

A voice inside his cowl informed him, it sounded like an older man with a British accent.

—Thank you, I'll check it later.

That’s when it hit you…the reason why he was watching you so intensely and standing so incredibly still: He was scanning you.

Fucking. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

You stayed there, your face paralyzed with surprise and anger, without knowing very well what to answer; you didn't want to cause a scene on your first day, but this man was just so rude; That is not an appropriate way to receive a new member. yes, it is normal to have suspicions, but you would appreciate if he had the decency to let his suspicions be known when you weren't present.

—she just introduced herself and already on with the paranoic behavior, Bats? seriously? —Hal stepped in your defense.

—this is a routine procedure; I'm just being cautious.

—He was like that at the beginning with all of us too, don’t worry he’ll warm up to you in no time—Wonder woman whispered in your ear after watching your uncomfortable expression.

Ultimatedly you decided to listen to the amazonian and let that one slide, “is normal to be wary of new things anyways” you repeated yourself.

As the months passed you have grown quite frustrated. Between all the missions and meetings even though you felt your relationship with the rest of the team grow closer and they began to trust you and respect you; your relationship with the Batman stayed pretty much the same.

Yes, there was a bit of progress….a bit.

He was bit more talkative to you, a bit more “friendly”, a bit more trusting.

But it was always just a bit never actually fully a teammate to you, your relationship felt more like distant coworkers.

At the beginning it didn’t worry you too much, until your lack of communication started to mess with your performance in the missions, sometimes something completely bizarre and unexpected would happen and because both of you didn’t know each other very well, the mission would take the double amount of time to resolve since you couldn’t coordinate at all.

One time he almost ran you over with his batwing…

The whole thing was kinda funny looking back on it but at the time you were furious (rightfully so)

In his defense, he didn’t knew you were there…I mean…you basically where standing in his parking spot (not that you knew there was such a thing, most members could fly or at least jump really high, so you kinda always forgot he couldn’t…and to be honest you didn’t know his exact powers)

—Sorry—was all he said as he got out of the strangely shaped flying vehicle and directed only one glance at you to make sure you where ok before entering the building, always maintaining that characteristic calm and cold demeanor.

One day you entered the hall of justice earlier than usual only to find an unexpected guest sitting in one of the empty chairs his gaze fixated on a book, he was wearing a rather colorful suit of some sort matching his green mask, then you realized when you were close enough…he was a C H I L D.

You panicked, why was a child here? Is he some sort of mini spy? How was he able to get through the security system?  Did he touch anything dangerous?

This and many more questions ran through your mind, the child noticed you were looking at him and only gave a polite nod as a greeting before returning his attention to his book.

Perhaps a school trip that you weren’t aware of was taking place and this kid strayed from his class? Perhaps he was looking for one of your teammates to ask for a photo and got lost and decided to wait here for his teacher? That will explain why everyone wasn’t here in the meetings room, perhaps they were busy giving the (hypothetical) group of children a tour?

—Hey kiddo! Are you lost? —you began the conversation in a friendly tone before kneeling down a little in order to appear less imposing…after all he was a child you didn’t wanna scare him.

He looked at you so incredulously.

You could almost hear him think “ma’am wtf are you doing???” through his expressions.

—What’s your name?

—Ummm…uh…Robin?­—He spoke like it was something obvious  while signaling the “R” symbol on his chest.

—Robin, uh? What a pretty name! tell me Robin…why are you here? Are you lost?

Poor boy he was so confused, you didn’t know who he was? Didn’t any of the members told you about him? And more importantly…Why where you talking to him like if he was a 5-year-old?

—No, ma’am…I’m just waiting for Batman.

“Batman? Was he a fan of Batman of all superheroes?”  It surprised you a bit, usually kids tend to like superman or wonder woman more since they are nicer and charismatic, and Batman was the opposite.

—Sorry Kiddo, I don’t think he’s one for photos, perhaps you could ask the others some other time! ­— you began explaining trying to dissuade the kid while guiding him towards the exit.

—He’s not here for photos—smooth as ever…the Bat was behind you.

—He’s my sidekick.

Your jaw dropped, a sidekick? He’s a CHILD! You knew superheroes had sidekicks, but you never knew they were that young!

Before you could even begin to protest, Batman ignored you, looking down at the child and instructing him to collect his things.

—Hurry, you’ll be late for class again. — He said before disappearing behind the door that led to his parking spot.

Robin quickly followed, hanging his backpack over his shoulder before stopping in his tracks directing an apologetic smile towards you and saying:

—Don’t worry miss, I can take care of myself! — He must have noticed the concern on your face before leaving.

Since that day your routine changed.

You would wake up earlier, many times you’ll be the first to arrive to the Hall of justice, and even have breakfast flying on your way there all for one thing: Robin.

Once you learned he was Batman’s sidekick you couldn’t help but worry over that poor child, “what if he gets hurt? Is he eating/sleeping/resting properly?” you just couldn’t help yourself.

At first it was just checking on the kid by just…seeing him in the morning and greeting him casually but there were times he wasn’t there, and you would panic internally and there was no other way to calm your anxiety until you would ask the Bat about the child.

He would always replay shortly: “He’s at home” “He’s at school” “He’s busy” and your conversations always would end there.

One day that Robin was there however, instead of your usual ‘greeting nod’ he started talking to you.

He asked you all sorts of things (that weren’t compromising to your real identity ofc) “What’s your favorite color?” “What music do you like?” “What’s your favorite movie?”

And it started from there.

The conversations with Robin grew not only more frequent but also more personal (as personal as someone with a superhero lifestyle can be), to the point it had become a routine for you to come early and talk to the boy, sometimes you had breakfast together or even helped him with his homework before the Bat would take him to school.

Perhaps it was because you didn’t have many acquittances here on earth, but Robin became family to you.

And family takes care of each other.

It had been a rather difficult and spontaneous mission; Lex Luthor was starting to act a little bit fishy (more than usual) using his connections and money Luthor had been acquiring/robbing very specifically concerning items all over the US, his next objectives: a Radion sample being investigated in a secret laboratory in Star city and a Dionesium sample...contained in the Wayne tower laboratories...

The team decided to split to put a stop to Luthor’s minions and his plan.

The Bat insisted the rest of the team should go to Star city, telling them that he and Robin could handle it, but everyone was immediately against it: Luthor had already collected relatively powerful items and being the intelligent motherfucker he is, probably transformed some of those items to give to his goon’s so they might have a chance in harming any of the members if they were to interfere.

Ultimately, the team agreed you and cyborg would accompany them to Wayne Tower.

Robin was stoked, he would get the opportunity to fight alongside you! But Batman…not so much…he kept trying to lose the two of you on the way there; fortunately, cyborg put a tracker on the batwing, he wasn’t going to get rid of you that easy.

Upon your arrival, you could spot several men (armed like if they were military but with a much more upgraded equipment) already leaving the building, carrying two tanks (presumably full of that substance Martian Manhunter had mentioned before) and heading to a truck without any plates.

Long story short: you organized a plan as quickly as you could but…something went wrong…Cyborg and Robin were supposed to create a distraction while the two of you recovered the tanks without damaging them, since the properties of the substance within remained unknown.

But something went wrong: You and Batman failed to coordinate and so you were spotted by the henchmen, they started aiming their weapons at the two of you, initially you thought a force field generated by the power of your ring would be enough...oh no, honey, you’re so wrong.

Sonic weapons were able to not only break your concentration quickly, but also made your ears bleed! One after another you kept re-making the fields, but the sonic waves so deathly and loud just kept coming.

You don’t know how but you were able to stand your ground long enough to make cover not only for Batman and allow him to get the tanks back safely but also for the rest of your team and give them a slight advantage to take down as many of Luthor’s minions as they could.

And then…you passed out.

You woke up at the infirmary in Justice Hall, your head a mess and wrapped in bandages, you had broken your arm because that shit inside a cast too for some reason…and…your ring was gone!

Panic!

No, never mind it was on the nightstand next to the chair in which batman was sitting on.

WAIT…next to the chair in which batman was sitting on?!?!?!

—How are you feeling? — you didn’t know if it was him suddenly talking or the genuine concern on his voice that startle you, so you just nodded slightly while he approached you.

—Can you hear me properly? —Surprisingly you could, but you still were a bit taken aback by his presence.

—I…­—Before responding your brain reminded you of the fact that you didn’t had your ring on, hence your secret identity was revealed to Batman. Your hands practically flew to your face in embarrassment. You didn’t know why but without your mask you felt naked and vulnerable.

He noticed.

His gaze studying your pained expression before he let out a small sigh.

—I came here…to thank you…and apologize— hesitantly his hands moved to the back of his cowl.

—You not only put yourself in danger for Cyborg and Robin, but you also concerned yourself with my safety even when it was probably my fault that we ended up in that situation —He admitted pressing a hidden button loosing up his cowl before finally taking it off and reviling the most gorgeous man you’ve had ever lay your eyes on.

—And for that I thank you and apologize…sincerely—Such sudden action left you speechless for a while, Batman not only had thanked you and apologized, but he had entrusted his identity to you.

—I think-…I think we started with the wrong foot; you know? —You finally were able to respond, breaking the silence that filled the room and surprising him slightly by your sudden declaration.

—Let’s start again…Hi! I’m Y/N—You imitated the same friendly voice tone you first used to talk to him.

The lips on the man in front of you curved forming a subtle almost imperceptive grin.

—Hello, Y/N, I’m Bruce…Bruce Wayne.

 ♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

 WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! IT. TOOK. SO. LONG. Sorry :c

I had a bunch of ideas for this request but ended up going with this one since I wanted to expand on their beginning, I’m still trying to figure out a way to write Bruce and this was my first attempt, so…sorry if it was…bad :c I’ll try harder next time!!!

Any errors you might see, please let me know; English is not my first language so I’m trying to improve.

In the final scene I wanted Bruce to show he recognized the Reader as an equal so that’s why he took it off…still I felt like it could improve.

 ♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov​ where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be a little bit fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway! Thank you for reading!

[gr0vndz3ro]

Safe Haven

Warnings: Cursing, slight emotional/ mentally manipulative relationship

Word Count: 3,259

Crossed off: Protective Hug

Prompt: "You don't have to talk about it, let me just hold you."

Tag List: @keigod @dragonhrte @mrs-takami-keigo @fanfic-me-up @gallickingun  @royal-after-dark @hawks-senseis @bnhabookclub​ @pixxiesdust​ @diorsho​

A/N: Hey I know this isn’t exactly what you had asked for but I got really inspired while writing this. I hope that you like it because I found it really fun to write!!

Even though you showed up at this shop at the dead hours of the night, it always surprised you that they were still open. Seeing as you would show up anywhere between 10pm to 4 am, unable to feel at ease in your own home. Due to the time you showed up, you typically were the only customer in the place, minus the few heroes that would stop by for expressos to keep them awake through their shift. No one ever bothered you as you wrap yourself in a blanket and tucked yourself into your own little world in the corner of the shop. So you could imagine your surprise when one day someone approaches you.

Tonight was Bakugou’s first shift in this area. He had done thousands of patrols before, being one of the top 10 heroes, but every time he got assigned a night shift, he always found himself filled with dread. He was the furthest thing from a night owl, much preferring to get in his much needed beauty rest and getting to bed no later than 9 pm. So if he was going to get through a 10-7 shift, he was going to need coffee, and a lot of it. 

While roaming down the streets of this seemingly peaceful neighborhood he came across a run down coffee shop. He almost passed it, barely even being able to tell it was open, the only hint of life being the small sign in the window and the few lights that were on inside. Pushing open the door, a little bell chimed upon his entrance, allowing whoever was there to know of his arrival. He stepped inside the shop, the door slowly closing behind him as he traveled over toward the counter to try and order a drink. When he made it there, he took the time to take in his new surroundings, cozy chairs with little tables littered the place, along with solo chairs that were covered in pillows next to what seemed to be a worn down bookshelf with tattered books filling it. As his eyes moved across the interior décor, he almost missed the person that was seated in the very corner of the place, blanket around their body with a mug delicately placed on a little side table, an arm's reach away. Slightly startled by the presence of another person in the place, he didn’t realize that the barista had finally arrived at the front counter.

“Hello, what can I help you with tonight sir?” A young voice said making the grown man jump. Slight anger filling him at this person being able to catch him off guard. 

“AH- didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to catch people off guard like that?” He glares at the boy behind the counter.

“Oh did I scare you mister Ground Zero sir?” A smirk across the teenagers face as he leans on the counter.

“I swear if you weren’t a kid I’d kill..” Bakugou mutters under his breath before taking a deep breath. “Just give me the strongest drink you’ve got, and add an extra espresso shot.”

“Alright one americano with an extra shot of espresso coming right up. Good luck sleeping.” The young teen then walks off to make the drink for the Pro. As Bakugou waits for his drink to be made, he feels his gaze fall back onto the person seated in the corner. They seemed unfazed by the presence of another person in the shop, the only way he even knew the person was conscious was because of them adjusting the blanket around their body. What was a civilian doing in this place at a time like this? Just as he was going to make his way over to the person in the corner, a voice stopped him. “Alright here you go sir, your total is $3.50″ Placing a ten on the counter, he grabs his drink and turns toward the door, curiosity taking over him as he makes his way out of the coffee shop.

You could imagine his surprise when he returns to the same coffee shop at 1 in the morning, to see a young woman sitting in the same chair the stranger had sat in 2 days prior. Ordering himself the same drink as before he can’t tear his gaze away from her. 

“She’s always here around this time. It’s like her little safe haven so we never tell her to leave.” The boy speaks up, causing Bakugou to look away from her. He raises his eyebrow, wondering what he was talking about. “I just noticed that the last time you were here you couldn’t stop looking at her and since you were doing the same this time you might be interested or something. A fair warning though, I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone, even if he is an asshole...” The last part of his sentence trailing off as he said it more to himself. He turns away from Bakugou to grab the finished drink before telling him his total and handing it over. He pays and takes the drink with him as he makes his way back outside of the little shop.

Yet another few days pass and he finds himself walking inside of the barren café. His head immediately turning to the left spotting the woman curled up in the chair in the corner. But as he took a step toward the counter, his feet betrayed him and carried him over to where she sat. When he arrived right next to where she was, she didn’t even seem to notice he was there, completely lost in her own thoughts. So when he cleared his throat he could have swore she could have gone through the roof with how hard she had jumped.

“What the hell are you doing up at this time. Don’t you have better things to do then be here in the middle of the night?” He questioned her, his tone coming off much harsher as his currently tired state hadn’t had any coffee yet. He never felt bad about how his words might affect someone, but watching the way she flinched at his cold demeanor, made him immediately feel riddled with guilt. He lowered himself down to her side to try to attempt to look friendlier as he spoke up again. “Um, I’m- sorry? I haven’t had any coffee yet and I guess you could say I’m not much of a night owl. I had just noticed that every time I’m here, you’re over here in this damn corner and I just wanted to know why the hell you’re even up at this time and not asleep like every other normal person would be.” 

You slightly untuck yourself from the cozy blanket you had wrapped around your form to make eye contact with the man that was now standing by your side. Your eyes met his own as you watched his face contort as he attempted to sound nicer. You could feel a smile wanting to spread across your face, but the memories of the fight you were in just mere hours ago made quick work to stop it from happening. But when the stranger’s head tilts to the side, similar to a confused puppy, you couldn’t help the chuckle that passed your lips.

“Well as hard as it may seem to believe, some people in this world are actually more night people.” You fake a smile onto your face so as to not scare off the stranger, but he doesn’t seem to fall for it for a second.

“Yeah well that’s bullshit, why is it that you are you actually here at..” he pauses looking past me to glance the clock mounted on the wall, “fuckin 2:43 am. You’re just sitting here in this chair, why don’t you just head home?” The smile that was on your face quickly falters as you think back to your house and what laid waiting for you in your sheets.

“I- I like it here better at night. I don’t sleep well.” You stare into your mug, the drink practically empty after drinking most of it over the time you’ve been here, yet the brown liquid suddenly seemed 100x more interesting than it was just mere moments before. He pauses, thinking for a moment before responding.

“You got one of those sleep disorders?” His eyebrow raises but you don’t see as you continue looking into your drink.

“Yup, and it’s fast asleep under my sheet right now.” A look of confusion takes over his face as he tries to understand what you mean. But you shake your head and put a smile back onto your face. “I’m just messing around, but yeah I guess I do. It’s not that big of a deal though I just like coming here. It’s like my happy place almost. You know, kinda like the place where I can just go and escape all the crap in my life and just breath. Honestly feels like I’m just suffocating sometimes and it gets so hard being around him I just.. oh my god I’m rambling. I’m so sorry. You’re a complete stranger and you don’t want to be hearing all of this.” A look of slight horror taking over your face as you realize you were spilling out all of your personal life to this complete stranger. Yet as you look over at him it seems to click in his head as he goes to speak up.

“Who is it that is making you so uncomfortable in your house? You’re not being hurt are you” A sudden wave of worry coating his voice as he thinks about the sort of trouble you could be in at your house.

“It’s nothing really I promise. Everything is fine, it's not that big of a deal. Plus it's nothing that I can’t handle.” You close your eyes and wave your hand at him trying to brush off the topic, but when his own hand wraps around your wrist it causes you to slightly jump before you open back up your eyes and look at him. You watch as he attempts to soften his face as he talks to you, now showing real concern for you.

“Just because it’s something you’ve handled before doesn’t mean you should have to go through it anymore. I can tell that you are a strong woman but that doesn’t mean that you have to go through whatever crap some douche is making you go through, you know that right?” Your eyes start to slightly tear up at his words. Never before had a random stranger showed you this much concern for your personal life.

“Oh um, thank you. It’s nothing that bad though it’s just. Well I guess you could say my boyfriend has a bit of a temper. It never has gotten physical he just yells... a lot. He hasn’t been the nicest lately and it seems like the only time I ever am able to get out of the house is at times like these, when I sneak out to come here. But honestly It's nothing to worry about, you should probably get going though, the city needs it’s mighty Pros out there watching over them as they sleep.”

“Are you sure that you are going to be okay here by yourself?” He asks you as he stands up beside where you were sitting as you go to nod your head telling him yes, you were caught off guard by the sound of your phone going off. You look down at it and feel as if you are frozen in place when you read the caller I.D and see his name, a chill making its way down your spine. You were about to respond to the kind man who had been keeping you company but when you went to speak, the words just seemed to stick in place as the thought of him made them feel like a suffocating sludge in the back of your throat.

“Um actually I need to go.. right now. Thank you so much for putting up with my rambling. Good night.” As you go to rush past him you felt a gentle hand stop you as it held your shoulder. You pause and look up at him, meeting his eyes. He had a question look on your face at your sudden rush to leave.

“What’s got you in such a rush? I thought this was your safe place.” He paused as he noticed your open phone seeing a name across the screen with a few choice words and it clicked in his head, the confusion he previously had now gone. “Let me walk you home at least.” Your eyes widen as you process his offer.

“Oh no, no, that’s fine you don’t have to do that I’ll be fine I promise. Anyways no one is out at this time so there is nothing really to worry about. You just get back to your patrols...” The smile that makes its way to his cheeks brings a sense of warmth to your heart in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“As a hero it’s my duty to make sure that every civilian makes it safely to wherever they need to be, and if I aim to stay on the top I can’t just let you go walk the streets yourself. Plus, who knows what kind of criminals are out at this time.” As you go to argue against him, he quickly cuts you off. “I’m not taking no for an answer so you might as well just get going and lead the way." Letting out a sigh you realize there was no getting out of this so you lead the way to your apartment.

The two of you walk side by side down the street as you travel to your home. The closer that you get to the house the more nervous you feel yourself getting thinking about what could be lying in wait for you just beyond the doors. As you make the final turn to where you live, you pause just a few doors away. Bakugou paused in his steps as he noticed that you had stopped. His gaze drifts between you and the door you were staring at. 

“Is this your place?” He questions, but is soon certain that it is when he takes in your nervous stance. When you don’t respond he walks closer to you and once again gently places his hand on your shoulder. “Hey are you going to be safe here? Because if you’re not I can always...”

“What do you think you're doing with your hands on my girlfriend?” You felt your body freeze and your heart drop at the sound of his voice. Bakugou goes to turn around but you stop him as you rest your hand on his wrist.

“Thank you for walking me home, I really appreciate it, but I should be heading in.” You go to step past him but flinch as you hear your boyfriend speak up again.

“So is this what you’ve been doing at night? Sneaking around with another man? After all that I do for you, for us? This is the kind of thanks that I get. Unbelievable. You are such a fu..”

“That’s it” You quickly look up from the ground and make eye contact with Bakugou as you see him start to boil with anger as he looks over to you, mouthing to stay behind him before turning to your apartment door and look over to your boyfriend. “Who the fuck do think you’re talking to like that?" Choosing to ignore the angry blond currently defending you.

“Get inside the fucking house, I don’t have time for this bullshit. You’ve caused enough trouble involving a hero in this so just get inside. We can deal with this in the morning.” You feel yourself sigh as you go to step forward but are stopped by a broad arm. 

“She’s not fucking going anywhere, especially not with a piece of shit like you.” He continued to hold his arm out, easily blocking you from his path and your boyfriend left the door way and headed over.

“Incase you didn’t notice, I wasn’t talking to you. So if you don’t mind, we will be going now.” As he goes to grab your wrist, he is quickly stopped by Bakugou grabbing his and flinging it away from you but not before grasping his shirt collar. 

“Listen and listen well. If I ever catch you laying a finger on her, come near her, even so much as breathe in her direction, you are going to become very well acquainted with my fist.” The sound of crackling coming from his fist mixing with the deep growl of his voice was enough to send chills down your spine. You could see how it had affected your boyfriend as well as you saw the confidence he previously had disappear. He tried to hold his ground as his collar was finally released and look back toward you before scoffing.

“Whatever. If you want to be with this try hard then go right ahead. You’ll just come crawling back anyways.” As he was about to continue, Bakugou stepped closer toward you once again, blocking his view of you.

As he turned around and walked off, going who knows where, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulder with every step he took. The overwhelming relief caused you to cry slightly as you realized that you were finally free. When he turned around to see you crying, the urge to hold you and protect you felt stronger than before. Never before had anyone made him feel this way, but from the first moment he saw you flinch, he wanted nothing more than to just hold you and protect you from the world. So that’s what he did. He reached out and engulfed you in his arms, his hold pressing you into his muscular form as you drowned in his warmth. You tried to raise your head to ask him why, but found yourself unable to as he spoke up.

“You don’t have to talk about it, just let me hold you.” So you didn’t say anything and allowed the two of you to stand outside of your apartment as this man who you barely knew held you in his arms as you felt all your stress melt away. This complete stranger had changed your life for the better, freeing you from the hold of your boyfriend, standing up to him in the way he knew that you couldn’t, and you could tell that he didn’t do it because it was his duty as a hero, but instead as someone who genuinely cared. So you stood there embracing him and for the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe. You felt at home.

[twh-news]

‘Loki’: Behind the Scenes of the Crumbling Time Variance Authority

Find out what Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Wunmi Mosaku, Owen Wilson, and Tara Strong all have to say about the TVA.

by Rachel Paige

[spoilers to Loki S01E04]

The Time Variance Authority sure seems like a cool and fun place to work! That is...until you start peeling back the layers of the previously unseen and unheard-of organization, and realize that they’ve been lying to everyone this entire time. Welcome to the TVA, y’all!

In Episode 4 of Marvel Studios’ Loki, “The Nexus Event," the truth starts to come out, and when it rains at the TVA, it pours. Where to even begin?

For starters, the Time Keepers did not create everyone working at the TVA, and it turns out the employees walking the halls and filing paperwork are all variants — with their memories scrubbed, of course. And if that’s not enough to swallow, the Time Keepers are actually robots and completely useless figureheads. Oh, and Mobius and Loki find themselves pruned at the hands of Judge Renslayer. That’s still just scratching the tip of the TVA iceberg!

So what’s it like when everything you thought you knew about your job turns out to be a lie? Marvel.com chatted with Gugu Mbatha-Raw (Judge Ravonna Renslayer), Wunmi Mosaku (Hunter B-15), Owen Wilson (Agent Mobius), and Tara Strong (the voice of Miss Minutes) about bringing the TVA to life, and what happens next in the series.

JUDGE RAVONNA RENSLAYER

Renslayer wasn’t always sitting behind a big desk in a big office at the TVA. “She has worked her way up to the top. She wasn't born into power. She started as a Hunter,” Mbatha-Raw tells Marvel.com. As viewers see at the start of Episode 4, Renslayer was the Hunter tasked with grabbing the Loki variant — aka Sylvie — from her timeline to stand trial.

Now that she’s in a higher position, she’s not going to veer off her straight and narrow path.

"She's really worked hard to get where she is, so she's not going to be reckless with the power that has been hard-earned for her,” Mbatha-Raw continues. “She, in some ways, is deeply indoctrinated with the ways of the TVA. She's completely conditioned by their thinking and the idea of the Sacred Timeline, and the concept of free will is quite alien to her. She's a believer. She believes in law and order, and it's done quite well for her so far in terms of getting her to where she is. She's not going to abandon her philosophy lightly.”

We see this in action when Renslayer realizes that Mobius has gone behind her back trying to get to the bottom of what happened to Hunter C-20. After a meeting with Renslayer, Mobius swipes her TemPad and discovers that the young Hunter was questioned, and in the process confessed that she knew they were all variants. And the person interviewing her? None other than Renslayer herself, who ends the interview abruptly. This is the sort of information Renslayer does not want to get out.

“It was fun to start off with everything being sort of very orderly and black-and-white for Renslayer. As her reality begins to crumble, we discover that alongside her. She has put everything into this. This is her whole world. Her career is her life.”

Renslayer isn’t going to let anything and anyone stand in the way of what she’s worked hard to accomplish, and that includes Mobius. Mobius tries to confront his superior about Hunter C-20, the variants, and the TVA, and in a shocking twist, Renslayer orders the agent pruned for being compromised!

“Her only friend, really, is Mobius, and she kind of betrays him,” Mbatha-Raw says. “Or she sees it as he betrayed her, and they have this massive schism. And you sort of think, gosh, where is she going to go now? Who's going to be in her corner? Who's she going to have a drink with at the end of the day. It's a lot of stress!”

HUNTER B-15

Someone else who has led their entire life believing in the TVA and what it stands for is Hunter B-15. The part of no-nonsense Hunter, originally written as a male character, ultimately went to Mosaku after her audition.

While reading the dummy sides (fake scenes for the audition), Mosaku and director Kate Herron determined the gender didn’t alter who Hunter B-15 is at the root of the character. “Despite being written a man, Hunter B-15 is a Hunter and works for the TVA. It didn’t change the scripts. I have free reign because she's new. B-15 doesn't exist in the MCU, so I really got to start from scratch and explore different ideas and themes, and take her wherever Kate and I wanted to.”

But, one thing the character couldn’t do? Be swayed by Loki’s charms. Mosaku was excited to step into this role, and not take any nonsense from Loki.

“It's very rare to have a [character], especially as a woman, [who doesn’t want to be] sweeter, nicer, or make people like you. She's not interested in that at all. And therefore, she's not interested in [Loki] — and Loki is very interested in that. He's charming and all that stuff, and it's all about luring you in. She just doesn't take any of it. It's not attractive to her. It's not intriguing to her. She's just, ‘Let's get the job done, please.’”

While Hunter B-15 starts off all commanding and tough, slowly she, too, begins to realize that not everything is what it seems at the TVA. After she’s enchanted by Sylvie at Roxxcart, Hunter B-15 has memories come rushing back to her — but what are they, and what did she see? That’s still a mystery for Mosaku, too, who explains, “I'm as intrigued as you are to find out what that backstory is.”

Whatever she saw, it propels her to take a stand against the TVA. This meant Mosaku went through training — in more ways than one, “They drilled us on the physical vocabulary of the TVA and the fight sequences that we had.”

At the end of Episode 4, Hunter B-15 comes to Loki and Sylvie’s aid when they come face to face with the Time Keepers, throwing the latter her machete (which she’s clearly stolen from Renslayer’s office). What follows next is a battle for power in front of the Time Keepers, one in which not everyone survives.

“We did have a trainer to make sure that we were physically capable of doing it all and not injuring ourselves,” states Mosaku. “I really loved that, because I love to box. I felt really strong and able to use my physical power in a way that I hadn't been able to before.”

MOBIUS

Agent Mobius is having a day. Not only is he watching his whole life and career crumble around him, but he then winds up on the wrong end of a pruning stick by the end of the episode. While he might have started off as a through and through company man when we first meet him, after Loki tells him they’re all variants, Mobius starts to think about where his true allegiance lies. (And if he ever had a jet ski??)

The biggest revelation in the episode for Mobius is not necessarily that he’s a variant, but rather that his closest friend, Renslayer, has been concealing the truth from him this whole time.

“The relationship between Mobius and Renslayer, it's the way you might have with your boss. Or when you're back in school with the principal or someone in a position of authority and having to sort of try to charm them so you're able to pursue your projects,” Wilson tells Marvel.com. “That's the dynamic between Mobius and Renslayer. She sort of loses patience with Mobius and with another one of his schemes. But, I think, she also sort of enjoys that he's a little bit of a rascal.”

That certainly might have been true at one point in time, but after Mobius swipes Renslayer’s TemPad, as Wilson continues, “by the end of that relationship, it has become something very different”

Mobius might have caught Renslayer in a lie, but it’s Renslayer who orders him pruned — and Loki witnesses the whole thing.

"The betrayal of Mobius by Renslayer is pretty shocking. And it's a little bit of a hall of mirrors within the whole series, that people aren't quite who they seem to be. In the same way that Loki, when he lands in this bizarre place called the TVA, Mobius will have sort of the same struggles. What is this organization? And is it something that is worthy of his devotion?”

MISS MINUTES

There’s one other very important person at the TVA: Miss Minutes! She’s not really a recording, and she’s not really alive, she’s sorta both! So what’s going to happen to the organization’s spokesperson as the TVA starts to fall apart?

Coy with her response, Tara Strong, who voices the perky clock, explains, “It's safe to say that Miss Minutes knows absolutely everything, and it's also safe to say I wouldn't mess with her too much.”

Recording for the character, Strong actually watched episodes (over video chat), and synched up her dialogue with the action in each scene.

“The show was already done before I stepped in, which was such a great gift,” she explains. “Had I gone first and watched a placeholder, it wouldn't have been as magical. But getting to sit there and witness the animation, and how cute it is and how stylized it was, and of course, to play off Tom Hiddleston, who's so brilliant, it was really a gift to have it all come together in front of me.”

For every scene, Strong recorded dozens of different versions of dialogue “to play with for the production crew to see what would fit in the best and what would make the most sense.” As the show was coming together, Strong knew she had the difficult task of giving Miss Minutes life and unloading “exposition while still making it fun and playful.”

“Everything she says is important and funny and interesting. I also love that even in the very beginning, when she's like, [Miss Minutes’ voice] ‘Don't hesitate to let us know how we're doing. We could explode you in a minute, but drop a line to let us know how you feel about it!’ It's like the perfect mix of who she is that she can be giving you such dire information with a smile on her face, and you still want to sit down and have a cupcake with her.”

Considering what she knows, and how many times she’s now dumped information, how else might she be able to step in and help Loki?

“She knows so much about the TVA, and it’s her job to relay this information to Loki,” says Strong. “[She needs] him to get past some of the things he's done [in order] to improve himself as a member of this universe, and how to grow and help. I [navigate] these moments with him, careful to not give away how much I actually know in the world.”

[practicalmagicintuitions]

Here is the Chris Reading for the anons asking for it:

I’ve placed a whole bunch of things down for this one. You guys wanted general, so until I could hone in on something, I had to just test the waters on all things. (I’m not following him so I don’t know what’s going on at all) if you guys notice something in this reading that you think could be symbolism for something you actually know of in his life, let me know! :)

I was asked for General, how he feels about relationships, how he feels about marriage, career? And love life.

1. I put down Chris

2. Being in a relationship” second. BIAR Wanted to be in front of Chris, Chris also wanted it there

3. Career was confused where to go, Being in a relationship was in the way. Career decided it’s gonna jam itself between them. (Already this is super telling.)

4. Being Single - single was attached to career, it wanted to stay with career it wouldn’t move elsewhere

5. Family are right behind Chris, (good that’s where they should be. Doesn’t look like any animosity atm)

6. Strangely, marriage wanted to be in front of in a relationship……..? That’s gonna be a fun one to figure out.

7. “Having kids” is behind him, past family and on the left (it’s the furthest placement away so far”

Chris is staring ahead at Career, single, BIAR and single. They’re all in a line.

Chris is staring straight at career. I can’t feel anything from him besides the fact that this big brick wall called a career is in front of him. I see nothing past that. “Single” though, rather than seeming as big as career, seems to represent itself as a little flag thats just been pressed into the side of the brick wall, single isnt giving me any feeling either.

That being said, the career brick wall is not intimidating. It’s just more like he’s looking up at it like, “huh. Big guy” he has the need to climb over it.

Yeah, listen this wall is a wall but he’s not trying duck his head to the side and see past it, he just has the need to jump over this brick wall. The wall is maybe 7 foot tall, so in comparison to himself and how big he feels in this scenario (he feels his normal 6 foot self) he absolutely could. But it’s just interesting that what I’m seeing/feeling is a brick wall that’s like 5 foot in length and yet he has no desire to just bypass it and go to the side, he wants to climb the fucking thing?

Chris stans, tell me what the HELL that is about. You know him better than I. Does he like the competition or accomplishment? Does he feel he needs to prove himself the hard way?

Anyway, he’s pretty confident he can jump this wall. And single is not even a thing to him in its current position.

He’s thinking very hard about how to jump this wall. Like he knows how, you lift yourself up and jump over it I can see that image in my head very easy, but he’s struggling to actually DO it?

Nope, ok he doesn’t want to.

He knows he can jump it, he knows it’s blocking everything else, but I go to take an action for him and he’s like “nah I’m good tho”

Seems a fitting time to put in “anxiety.”

I laughed out loud when I had to place anxiety. Take a wild guess where it felt it needed to be?

You bet chya, it’s on the wall.

And then it couldn’t make up its mind. Officially I’ve placed it on the wall together with “single” and “career” but the energy for anxiety is actually that’s it’s jumping in front of the wall, to on the wall, to behind the wall and it keeps doing that. Just back and forth.

Makes total sense as to why he can’t cross this wall.

Now that anxiety is there he doesn’t want to look in its direction at all.

He’s gotten a bit warm and a bit of a headache too now, and a bit dizzy. The headache is real present.

The good news is in these situations where someone can’t move due to anxiety or otherwise, it’s always a good time to place supports, so the person can feel supported to do the thing they want and move forward. Luckily, his family are already placed behind him, they seem to really love him, so it’s just about me utilising that now.

This part I’m going to do more privately (as in I won’t type it) cause this would be a personal thing (maybe even generational thing) that he needs to move through with his family in order for them to feel that support. His anxiety didn’t come from nowhere. That being said I’m also not going to do a whole ass constellation with him cause 1. He’s not here and 2. It would take hours.

All I’ll say is his mum is a MASSIVE support for him, and also……. 😬 kinda swamping him a bit. He doesn’t mind it, it’s actually very comforted, but she truly is just physically in this reading SWAMPING him. An outsider could see that she’s maybe a bit too involved with his life.. which isn’t great for a fully grown man. But, he finds it comforting, what are ya gonna do. Clearly he doesn’t want it to end… :/

(For reading purposes So it’s not just jumping, I took about 5 minutes with him and his family to help move past anxiety, his family love the crap out of the guy it’s real cute.)

I thought this was important to note:

What Career feels in relation to CE:

Very big, bulky, serious. Reminds me a bit of Wilson Fisk from into the spider verse. Just very big, bulky, serious a bit of a bully. Not gonna move. You’re gonna do what I tell you. Restrictive. That kind of energy. It doesn’t HATE him, but it has rules. And Chris is gonna follow them. (That’s a threat) it also feels like within career is actually a powerful male that kinda owns his ass? Not sure who that could be, once again CE stans, gimme the tea.

For the next part I might… get in trouble. I know that when it comes to the talk of relationships no one likes to hear it. Don’t kill the messenger here you guys:

he has his back TURNED from “single”

I could encourage him to look everywhich other way for any other representative, but single? Back turned.

Doesn’t wanna look at it.

Single on the other hand is kinda looking at him like a little kid like :) hi Chris look pls. Chris! Pls :) Chris look at me Chris pls :) Chrissy! Take a look!

For whatever reason “single” in this reading is feeling very adolescent. Maybe he feels that being single isn’t a grown up thing to do anymore? (I forgot to mention, the things in the field take on the energy of the person it’s focused on, not necessarily how it is perceived by EVERYONE in the world, only how it’s perceived or how it acts in relation to the client. Single to ME might be a knight in shining armor that protects me, Single to Chris seems adolescent.

So, Chris is looking at both “marriage” and “being in a relationship” he’s not feeling particularly drawn towards either, but he is giving a lot more attention to “being in a relationship” than marriage.

Which is weird, cause if you don’t want single, yet you don’t want relationship, what do you want?

I have now brought in “situationship” “flirting w/ someone” and “fwb”

situationship is closest, but doesn’t have his full attention, as it’s to the left side of him at an Angle. FWB is just behind situationship but more aligned to be in front of his eyesight, and flirting with someone is on the right from him, at an angle and is the furthest of the three.

Ok, FWB feels the most comfortable for him, he actually took a step towards it. He’s not feeling super fond of any of the three in any way, but FWB is nice it’s comforting, he’s.. semi happy? It’s not even really happy… it’s just like “doing ok!This is ok! This is comfortable.”

He’s side eyeing the shit out of “situationship” though and is anxious at how close it is. He doesn’t actually want the situationship there, but it’s close now and it’s not moving, and he’s having a bit of anxiety about it. He can’t stop looking at it though. FWB is immediate comfort, situationship is SO ANXIETY INDUCING but it’s also more interesting to look at?

(Chris get therapy 🙄)

Flirting with someone is out of the picture, been there, done that doesn’t care about it. (Could be that he’s already gone through the flirting stage with someone that’s why it’s of no interest to him)

Now that he’s finding situationship more interesting, he’s looking past FWB and to “being in a relationship” which he also finds nicer to look at. The thought coming up is “that would be nice” but in a wistful way.

Marriage is still right out, we’re not looking at marriage.

I’m gonna move relationship closer to situationship to see if he feels better or worse.

Lmao ok, I put them both together and imagined situation ship and relationship being close, like they’re holding hands. In his mind, situationship is a cute little brunette that’s like 5’4 and “being in a relationship” is built like an Amazonian 6’5 goddess and he’s both in awe, yet intimidated a bit, but also not hating it, but the only thought that came up was “ahhhhh…. Fuck.”

Two thoughts came up but they both got crossed out before he could finish it.

“I don’t want-“

“I’m not ready……..-“

And now he just keeps hesitantly saying relationship over and over again but he’s saying it like he’s brand new to the word, like he’s trying to find the word for the word - yet he’s already speaking it??

And now it’s just a flatlining “😐 mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm……”

Sat with this for a while and didn’t have much movement so time to move to:

Question time:

Q: Chris.. are you in a situationship?

I don’t know what I’m in

Q: Ok. Are you… sleeping with someone

Yeah

Q: Are you FWB?

He’s hesitant? Like he’s not sure. That word doesn’t seem to fit what he’s up to atm. He seems very confused about what he’s in.

Q: Are you going on dates with someone?

I’m going on dates

Q: With many people or just one?

Just…. One… (not sure why he was hesitant about telling me, but I feel like I’m starting to cross on something I’m not meant to talk about, so I’m ending it here. If he wants to keep it to himself, he is absolutely in his right to do so)

I will say when He said just one, a person did show up: brown hair, she’s shorter than him (but that’s obvious) and she’s slender and kinda perky. When I see her she looks like she’s fun! I saw her dancing around a bit. I liked her energy.

Sound like anyone you guys know?

Note: this is where I’ve ended it. Wasn’t gonna push on it he was getting more and more hesitant it’s not my place to push anything that he doesn’t want me to access. Now that we’ve created the focus though it will be easier to go from there :)

Hopefully that covered it for the anons that asked :) I’m over @energyanon to anyone that needs anything clarified.

Thank you for doing this @energyanon ! Your gift is amazing and thank you for your dedication!

[sunsetcurveofficial]

can I request ot3 or even all 4 sunset curve soulmates drabble 🥺

this... is so much longer than a drabble, i’m so sorry. it was only going to be a fraction of this but then... i kind of liked this universe and kept going lol

anyway, here we go, 2k of sunset curve ot3 soulmate goodness 

also available on ao3

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

It’s weird, this soulmates thing. Alex has always thought so. So people are born with random sentences scribbled onto their skin, and they’re supposed to be the first words your soulmate ever says to you. It sounds all beautiful and easy enough, and really, for most people it is. He supposes it’s nice to know you’re actually supposed to be with the person you may or may not fall in love with. Most soulmates do, he knows. But not all of them. Some remain platonic, because some people are not made for romance and that’s okay. He knows that platonic love isn’t any less important than romantic love. Generally speaking, he does think that the soulmarks make sense, too. For most people. 

His, however, has never made any sense at all. 

Because his soulmark says Hi, I’m Reggie. Reggie says you’re killing it on the drums, man.

It doesn’t make any sense. It never has. 

So, he met Reggie when he was 13. And Reggie said the first part of his soulmark to him. Which makes sense. The second part, however, remains unsaid. And it doesn’t surprise him that it does. Because why the hell would Reggie tell him that Reggie says he’s killing it on the drums? It doesn't. Make. Any. Sense. And frankly, it makes Alex a little anxious to think about. Does he have two soulmates? He used to think that is something that only happens in fairy tales. 

The weirdest part, however, is the fact that half of Reggie’s soulmark also remains unsaid. Reggie has the words Oh, hello, I’m Alex. Dude, you shred on the bass! tattooed onto the skin on his forearm. The first part is self-explanatory and makes perfect sense, but Alex didn’t even know Reggie plays bass when he first met him. 

He and Reggie have spent hours and hours dwelling on what it all means, and why both of their unsaid halves are related to their instruments, but to no avail. They have no clue. Having two soulmates is rare, but your soulmate also having two soulmates is close to impossible. Neither of them have ever heard of that happening before. Except maybe in fairytales or TV shows. 

On Alex’s 14th birthday, they agree that there isn’t any point in agonising over it, because they would inevitably find out, eventually. So Alex tries not to dwell on it anymore and focus on his new boyfriend instead. Because while he and Reggie have assumed they are soulmates of the platonic kind at first, they have since figured out that kissing is much nicer than it looks on TV, especially when they’re doing it with each other. 

They’re 15 when it all starts making sense. Except it still doesn’t, and it’s completely insane. It’s a perfectly normal Wednesday and Alex is waiting for Reggie by his locker, idly going over his maths notes, when he hears Reggie’s familiar laughter reach his ears. He looks up with a smile, and he finds Reggie walking towards him, dragging another boy he’s never seen before along by the hand. There are a couple of thoughts raining down on him all at once, approximately in this order:

“Why is my boyfriend holding hands with another guy?”

“Who is this?”

“Don’t be jealous now, Alex. He’s your soulmate.” 

“Fuck, that new guy is pretty. Almost as pretty as Reggie.” 

“Stop staring, Alex.” 

“Alex! Alex!!” Reggie says excitedly when they reach him. He’s beaming, his smile almost blinding, and Alex wants to cry a little bit because he loves him so much. “You gotta meet Luke! He’s just moved here, and I just met him in music class. Also-- no, never mind, later. Luke, this is Alex.” Reggie is jumping up and down a little, and he’s so bubbly, he almost seems nervous. Alex faintly wonders what that’s all about. 

Alex stares, feeling a little overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotions he can’t really place. Luke nods at him. 

“Reggie says you’re killing it on the drums, man,” Luke says casually, and Alex swears his heart stops. No way. His whole world is closing in on him, and he stares at Luke open-mouthed, unable to say a single word. He blinks, and forces himself to look away from Luke - his soulmate, his freaking second soulmate - and meet Reggie’s eyes instead. Reggie looks like a deer in the headlights, and at least that’s an emotion Alex can relate to. It’s eerily quiet for a long time, the chatter of the students around them drowned out by Alex’s own heart hammering against his ribcage. 

“Umm… are you two okay?” Luke asks, and somehow the sound of his voice snaps Alex back to reality. Right. He has yet to say anything. Has yet to say the words written on Luke’s skin somewhere. Oh dear. What is he going to say? Why does he feel so pressured to say the right thing when it’s already been decided anyway? He feels himself panic a little. He should just answer Luke’s question, right? Easy. Isn’t it? Except he doesn’t even remember what Luke said. Fuck.

“What the fu--” he starts muttering, eyes widening as he stops himself, “I mean, no, I can’t say that-- no, that’s awful, oh my god, I messed this all up. Fuck!” His eyes widen even further when he realises just how badly he fucked up. He looks back at Luke and blushes.

“I am so sorry, man,” he says, and he means it. Luke stares at him for a long moment before bursting into loud laughter. He holds onto Reggie’s shoulder to keep himself upright, and something about the sight and the sound sends a flutter to Alex’s stomach. Reggie is laughing too, and he keeps eyeing him fondly. It helps to calm Alex some. 

When Luke’s laughter ceases into a grin, he picks up the hem of his sleeveless band shirt and reveals a perfect tattoo of Alex’s rambling. It’s not all there is, though. Above it, there is a line saying, Thanks, I also happen to shred on the banjo. 

Alex blinks. It fits perfectly with Reggie’s second half. And Reggie does shred on the banjo. No. That can’t be real, can it? They can’t all be soulmates, right? That doesn’t happen. He looks up to meet Reggie’s beautiful green eyes, and he’s beaming at him. Then he meets Luke’s, and the stranger - because that’s what he still is to him - grins from ear to ear. 

“Well, boys. Nice to meet ya. Soulbros, or some shit.” 

Alex makes a face. Reggie giggles and shoves at Luke’s shoulder. 

“Soulbros?” 

Alex faintly wonders if Luke is straight and makes up for the platonic part of their little triangle. Luke raises an eyebrow, grinning. 

“No? Okay, well, that’s good. ‘Cause I think you’re both like, insanely cute.” 

Alex blushes, he knows he does, and he’s comforted by the fact that Reggie blushes, too. Red blotches appear all over his cheeks, and it’s the most beautiful thing. 

Luke seems to have no qualms about anything, and Alex thinks that makes sense. He and Reggie do still need a little more confidence between them, and a little more of a doer, since they both tend to be talkers if no one pulls them along. 

“Uh, yeah, Reggie and I are already dating,” Alex says. Luke nods as if he likes to hear that. He’s definitely adjusting to this weird three-way situation much faster than Alex is. 

“Sweet!” he says and beams at them. “Also, boys! We can start a band. How cool is that?”

Alex stares again, feeling like he’s missed something. He and Reggie have been talking about starting a band with their friend Bobby for so long, but they’ve never done it. 

“I play the guitar,” Luke explains, “And I sing, and write music.” 

Well, Alex thinks, that makes more sense than anything he’s ever heard before in his life. Just like their soulmarks suddenly make the most sense in the world. 

 +++

 Reggie falls for Luke first. Alex sees it happening right in front of his eyes, and he wonders if he should be jealous, but he stomps out that spark before it can be set aflame. They’re all soulmates and it was bound to happen. It’s not like he doesn’t feel it too, the magnetic pull towards Luke. Luke is wonderful. He lives and breathes for his music, he’s driven and passionate, and kind. There is a depth to him, too, and Alex thinks he can’t wait to explore it. Alex would say he’s the most beautiful person he’s ever met, if it wasn’t for Reggie. They are so different in so many ways, but that’s one thing they have in common. 

“I think I want to kiss Luke,” Reggie says one afternoon when they’re 16 and hanging out in Alex’s room, listening to music and waiting for Luke to pick them up and take them to Bobby’s place for their band practice. “Is that okay?” 

Alex smiles at him and pulls at his arm to make him straddle his hips. He reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair off Reggie’s forehead. 

“Of course it is,” he tells him. Reggie beams, but Alex can see another worry crease appear on his forehead.

“You don’t want to yet, do you?” he asks carefully. Alex shakes his head. 

“I’m happy to kiss just you for now.”

Reggie smiles again and leans down to press his lips against Alex’s. Alex wraps his arms around Reggie’s neck to keep him from pulling away as he deepens their kiss. Alex loves kissing Reggie. He thinks it’s the best feeling in the world.

They’re still kissing when Luke bursts into the room. Reggie startles so badly, he nearly falls off the bed, and Alex knocks his head on the headboard. 

“Aw guys, without me again? I’m really starting to get a little jealous here,” Luke pouts. 

Reggie gives Alex a look, and Alex nods, encouraging him to go on. So Reggie jumps up from the bed and takes a few strides across the room to step into Luke’s space, push him until his back hits the door, and then kiss him right on the mouth. Alex expects jealousy, but he only finds himself feeling warm all over. He loves them both, he knows, even though he might not have any desire to kiss Luke just yet. It’s mostly just due to his nervousness anyway, but even that makes no sense, because it’s not like Luke would reject him. 

He watches Luke kiss Reggie back eagerly, his hands roaming over the other boy’s back as he keeps him close and tilts his head for a better angle. 

When they pull apart, Luke smiles happily, and Alex feels that flutter in his stomach again. He knows he won’t last much longer. Especially now that he’s seen Luke kiss Reggie. Maybe he kind of… wants a taste anyway. But not just yet, even though Luke is giving him a longing look over Reggie’s shoulder and it does all sorts of funny things to his chest. 

 They’re 17 when he finally gives in and kisses Luke in the middle of one of his impassioned rants about the song he’s working on. Luke gasps in surprise, but immediately lets go of his guitar to bring a hand up to the back of Alex’s head. He kisses him back the way he plays music. He gives it his everything. It’s the best feeling in the world, right on par with kissing Reggie. 

When Alex pulls away, Reggie is grinning at them from his spot on the floor where he’s idly plucking at the strings of his bass. Luke is smiling happily and promptly wraps his arms around Alex’s waist to hug him, holding on tight. 

“Dude, you had me so worried. I was half convinced you didn’t want me like that. That this part of the triangle is strictly platonic for you or something!” he says. 

“I told you, babe,” Reggie comments. “He just needed time.” 

Alex shrugs. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I just-- I get so nervous sometimes and--”

Luke interrupts him by pulling him into another kiss. 

“I know, you dork,” he says, then turns towards Reggie, “You’re both dorks.” 

Reggie doesn’t even look up from his bass when he says, “Yeah, but you love us anyway.” 

“That’s fair. I really do,” Luke says, shrugging, then clears his throat, “Well, soulmates. Let’s get to work. We got an important gig to rehearse for.” 

 -  End.   -

[night-time-writing]

The five times Bakugo and Shinso were almost caught and the one time they tell everyone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236678

Word Count: 3,110

1.

The evening was quite peaceful despite the constant movement of the city around him. Katsuki took the time it took to get from the train station to his destination to think. Tonight was his and Hitoshi’s first real date. Katsuki had planned the night carefully, not that he would ever let Hitoshi know that. The two had been dating for around two months now but had decided to keep it a secret when they first got together. The discussion came from not wanting the class to pick into their relationship. They were both pretty closed off people, and they didn't want the extra’s opinions to affect their new, growing relationship.

They had yet to go on a real date so that the class wouldn’t find out, but they did hangout more outside of class. Despite Katsuki’s first thoughts, Hitoshi and him actually had a decent amount in common. They were both powerful and extremely determined and passionate about becoming a hero. They would both do anything to reach their goals.

Although they had their problems, they were both bull headed. Katsuki was quick to anger, and Hitoshi went silent when he was angry, which just managed to piss Katsuki off even more. However, they could balance eachother out. Where Hitoshi rarely took care of himself, Katsuki was all about taking care of your body. Hitoshi helped Katsuki pull his head out of his ass and stop judging people as harshly. In the time they had been dating, Katsuki had made a better relationship with Deku. After all, Deku was now one of Hitoshi’s closest friends, with his insistent need to bud into everyone's business.

Before he knew it, he was standing outside Hitoshi’s house. Katsuki knocked hard on the door to make sure the occupants would hear him. The door soon swung open to reveal Present Mic. his hair was down and he smiled brightly at Katsuki. Past Present Mic Katsuki could see an unimpressed Aizawa before Eri ran into the room and his face lit up. 

“It’s great to see you Bakugo, Hitoshi will be right out.” Present Mic greeted him

Hitoshi then rounded the corner and Katsuki paused. He was dressed nicer than usual. They had both decided, evidently, to dress nice for their date. Hitoshi was wearing a nice pair of blue jeans and a purple button up. Katsuki was wearing a  pair of black skinny jeans and a white tee shirt with a jacket.

Katsuki was aware of how nice Hitoshi looked, but quickly looked away. After all Hitoshi’s parents were standing right there, watching the two boys.

“Ready to go?” Katsuki asked as Hitoshi moved past Present Mic and stepped outside.

“Yeah, let’s go” Hitoshi turned around smiling and waving at his adopted parents.

“Have fun studying!” Present Mic called out to them as they walked away from the house. They both shook their heads at the man.

After they were a decent distance from the house, Katsuki reached his hand out and grabbed Hitoshi’s hand. Neither of them were great with physical contact and PDA, but they tried.

“Did you tell them we were going to study? Because you didn't attempt to look like we are going to study.”

“Nope. Hazashi came to that conclusion all on his own.” They both laughed lightly at that.

“Nice to know we don’t look like we would date each other. Perhaps the extras won’t put it together then.”

“So, are you going to tell me where we are going?”

“To get food” was Katsuki’s only response.

Hitoshi rolled his eyes and shoved Katsuki by running into him slightly, all while keeping their hands clasped as they walked down the street. Katsuki had planned the whole date, and kept the specifics from Hitoshi for fun.

After they got on the train and sat down Katsuki looked over to his boyfriend. Hitoshi looked more at peace then he normally did. For the first time that night Katsuki relaxed. He was no longer as worried about anyone discovering them, or worried that Hitoshi would hate what he had planned. Katsuki was just happy to be able to treat Hitoshi to a nice mean and hangout in a setting where they didn't have to worry about the class finding out.

2.

    Katsuki was pleasantly surprised that Hitoshi liked the little mom and pop joint that he took him to. When picking where to go on their date Katsuki put seclusion first. He found this small, hole in the wall, type ramen restaurant. It was small, locally owned, and not very popular. It was also far enough away from U.A. that it was unlikely that any of their classmates would go there tonight.

    Once they got their food, Katsuki was in love. The food was so good, the restaurant definitely deserves to be more popular, in Katsuki’s opinion. Based on Hitoshi’s reaction, he agreed. Katsuki then made a mental note to come back sometime for another date.

“You should make the class ramen sometime” Hitoshi suggested as they started to get ready to leave. “Then we can see how you compare.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes as he placed the money on the table. He knew that Hitoshi was trying to bait him into complying by using his competitive nature against him.

“Only if you help. Those fuckers can eat a shit ton of food.” Katsuki often made dinner for the class since none of them were competent in the kitchen. They had since come to the silent agreement that the class had no say in what Katsuki made. There were too many opinions, with no way for everyone to get what they wanted and Katsuki didn't want to deal with it. Katsuki still hated doing all the cooking though because he had to make so much food. He still did it though because he cared about his classmates, not that he would ever tell them that.

“Deal” Hitoshi agreed. Katsuki knew the only reason he agreed was because they both knew that he was too much of a control freak to actually let Hitoshi help. Just as they got up and started heading for the door a familiar voice called out to them.

“Bakugo! Shinso!” Katsuki turned around to see Sero standing by one of the employee's only doors, waving at them as he made his way towards them. “ I didn't know you guys knew about this place. Isn't my mom’s cooking the best?”

“Your mom cooked the food?” Hitoshi asked.

“Yup! This is our family restaurant.” Katsuki silently cursed himself for finding the one restaurant that was owned by one of his friends' family.

“Shame you don't have your moms talent for cooking.” Sero just laughed at Katsuki’s words. Katsuki rolled his eyes at Sero. “Anyway, give my compliments to your mom. I gotta go, see you later soy sauce.” Katsuki then marched out of the restaurant. Hitoshi followed shortly after. 

Katsuki was pissed that their date night was ruined by soy sauce face, of all people. He had just wanted to have a nice dinner, and then a calm walk with his boyfriend. A time where they weren’t worrying about being caught, before they had to make their way back to school. Now all that Katsuki could think about was how soy sauce saw them on a date. He was probably going to tell the whole class and they were never going to have peace again.

Katsuki marched down the street until he was a decent distance from the ramen restaurant. This is when he finally stopped to let Hitoshi catch up. As soon as Hitoshi was close enough to Katsuki he reached out his hand and grabbed Katsuki’s. “I really don't think he put it together, okay? He would have asked questions, so let's just do whatever else you had planned and enjoy our time together.”

Katsuki sighed. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Hitoshi’s lips.

“Very well.” Katsuki replied. He then led Hitoshi by their joint hands for a nice walk before making their way to the dorms.

3.

    In the end Katsuki was able to enjoy the rest of their date. They were gone longer than originally planned and they got back to the dorms after dark. All the lights were off in the commons which meant that everyone else had already gone to bed. So the two of them had to be quiet when entering the dorms just in case. Upon further inspection, the dorms seemed completely abandoned.

Hitoshi nudged Katsuki once they were near the couches. Katsuki looked over at him to see that Hitoshi was smirking at him.

“I don’t think anyone will catch us now.” Hitoshi said, pulling Katsuki in for a kiss. For a moment Katsuki forgot where they were. He forgot that a lot of his classmates were probably still awake. That Deku of all people, was quite likely to come down to get food from the kitchen. Instead he deepened the kiss before smirking and shoving Hitoshi over the back of the couch.

It was supposed to be a harmless fall, uncomfortable? Yes. However, he was supposed to actually land on the couch. Katsuki didn't expect Hitoshi to land on the couch, then quickly flip himself on to the floor. Katsuki definitely didn't expect Todoroki to then shoot up from the couch where he had apparently been sleeping.

Todoroki looked around, taking in the dark and empty common room. “I must have fallen asleep during the movie again. I wonder why they didn't wake me.” Todoroki barely looked at the two of them before heading up to his room.

Katsuki looked at Hitoshi as Todoroki got on the elevator. He had no clue if Todoroki put it together or if he honestly just didn't care. However, he knew that the whole situation was kind of ridiculous.

“Apparently we are horrible at being discrete considering the minute that we go out, we almost get caught three times. If you include my dads.” Hitoshi laughed, pushing himself up off the floor.

    Katsuki shook his head and smiled slightly as the two of them went to the elevator and headed to their rooms.

4.

    After their date they decided to lay low for a bit so that the people that saw them on their date wouldn't get suspicious. That meant they were back to sneaking into each other's rooms when they wanted to be together. It normally wasn't a big deal to hard because their friends would normally leave them alone when they were in their rooms not wanting to be around others. As long as they had been social enough earlier in the day to meet their friends standards.

Currently the two of them were sitting in Katsuki’s room on his bed. Earlier they had been talking and playing video games. However, now they were just making out on Katuski’s bed.

Katsuki was so engrossed in the kiss that he didn’t hear the loud commotion outside his door. That is until his door banged open, hitting the wall hard. They were able to part and throw themselves to opposite sides of the bed, just in time for Kaminari to poke his head into the room.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room Dunce face?” Katsuki yelled, getting up off the bed.

“A couple of us are having a Mario Kart competition and we wanted to know if you wanted to join.” Kaminari smiled brightly at Katsuki. 

“Why would I do that? I wanted to be alone, away for everyone’s loud yapping.” Katsuki snapped.

“I would like to point out that you are currently not alone, you are hanging out with Shinso.” 

“That’s because mind fuck over here knows when to shut up and get out.” Katsuki then pointed out the door. He directed Kaminari out of the room despite his protests. Katsuki then shut the door and then made sure to lock it this time.

“I can’t believe I forgot to lock the door. It’s a good thing Dunce face is as dense as a pile of bricks.” Katsuki looked over to Hitoshi. Hitoshi was smirking slightly at Katsuki. “What?”

“Mind fuck? Is there a double meaning to that one?”

“I’ll show you a mind fuck.” Katsuki smirked.

5.

Katsuki was good on his promise and was currently in the kitchen making the class ramen. Hitoshi was ‘helping’ Katsuki cook. At first he did help, cutting up the vegetables and such, but now he was just moving around the kitchen trying to mess Katsuki up.

Katsuki was adding the last of the ingredients while shoving Hitoshi every so often to keep him from messing with anything. Usually Katsuki didn’t let anyone in the kitchen while he was cooking. He definitely wouldn’t let anyone in the kitchen if they were acting like how Hitoshi was. The only reason Hitoshi was allowed to stay was because Katsuki knew that despite his antics, Hitoshi wouldn’t actually mess up Katsuki’s food. Hitoshi knew how much Katsuki’s cooking matters to him.

Hitoshi went to steal the spoon off the counter, but Katsuki saw him from the corner of his eye. Katsuki moved quickly and was able to snatch up the spoon, elbowing Hitoshi before he began stirring the ramen. That is when Kirishima decided to pop into the kitchen.

“Everyone is wondering when dinner will be done. It smells amazing.”

“It will be done when it’s done. How many times do I have to tell you guys to leave me alone when I’m cooking.”

“But Shinso is in here.” Kirishima pouted. “Why won’t you let me cook with you, but you’ll let Shinso?” 

“Because mind fuck can boil water without burning it, now get the fuck out shitty hair.”

“That was one time, and how do you expect me to get better if you never let me try?” Kirishima complained lightly as he walked out of the room. Not once questioning Hitoshi’s presence. 

+1.

After Hitoshi excused himself from playing board games in the commons, Katsuki made sure to wait the appropriate time before he too retired to ‘his’ room.

“As much fun as this has been,” Katsuki said, rolling his eyes, “I’m going to go finish my homework.”

“Okay, goodnight Bakubro.” Kirishima called out as Katsuki walked away. Kirishima always said goodnight when Katsuki excused himself anytime after dinner, knowing that Katsuki would not be coming back down. 

Kirishima was so aware of Katsuki’s habits, it was weird sometimes. The only other people who knew Katsuki so well were his parents, Deku, and Hitoshi. Since Kirishima knew him so well, Katsuki was surprised that he hadn’t put it together that he was dating Hitoshi. Or maybe he did know and just wasn’t saying anything. However, that was equally as surprising, considering Kirishima was horrible at keeping a secret and how loud mouthed all of his friends were.

Katsuki sighed before opening Hitoshi’s door. He shut the door behind him then walked over to Hitoshi’s bed and collapsed into it.

“Oh come on, they aren’t that bad.” Hitoshi laughed, turning his chair around to face Katsuki instead of his desk. 

“They are that bad.” Katsuki refuted, glaring at Hitoshi. “Dunce face knocked down the Jenga tower five times while trying to build it to play the game. But that’s not what I was thinking about.”

“So, you didn’t come here to complain about your friends. That’s a first. You must want to complain about a different class member. Is it Midoriya, or Todoroki?” 

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Neither, I was thinking about us.” 

Hitoshi’s smile dropped at that. “Do you no longer want to be in this relationship?”

“No! That’s not what I mean.” Katsuki sat up, turning to face Hitoshi, and placing his feet on the ground. “I want to tell the class that we are dating.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Honestly they should already know based on the things they see, and if they don’t already know, then they are never going to be able to figure it out on their own. Might as well get it over with and tell them.” 

“Way to make it sound like a good thing.” Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “But okay, let’s tell them. When do you want to tell them?”

“Why not now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, like ripping off a band-aid. Why delay it?”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes before getting up and holding his hand out for Katsuki to take. Katsuki took it and they walked to the commons hand in hand.

“Bakugo! Your back!” Kirishima greeted him happily. His eyebrow raised once he noticed both of their hands collapsed together.

“Mind fuck and I are dating, have been for awhile. That’s it.” Katsuki said with a huff.

The commons then fell into complete silence. The lack of response was beginning to worry Katsuki when there was a sudden crash. Kaminari had, once again, knocked over the Jenga tower. That is when the class got over their shock and the room descended into complete chaos.

Some of them were shouting out questions. Others were talking to each other, either about how in the world they were dating, or how in the world they missed the signs. Which students were which? Katsuki was unsure, it was to fucking loud to hear even his own thoughts.

“Wait, wait.” Mina said, loud enough to gain the classes attention. “None of you knew? It was so obvious.”

This only accomplished making the class angry and arguing that it wasn’t all that clear.

Deku then spoke up. “I knew. It was kind of obvious. Kacchan is very rarely soft and people tend to drive him nuts quite quickly. Yet he spends quite a lot of time with Shinso, and he stopped snapping at Shinso as much.”

Kirishima chuckled slightly. “Well I’m happy for you guys, as long as you guys are happy.”

The  rest of the class quickly echoed Kirishim’s sentiment. In that moment he realized just how supportive the class was, and how happy he was to  no longer have to hide his relationship. 

Bonus:

    “That’s it Hazashi. Hitoshi and Bakugo aren't study buddies.” Shota snapped at his husband.

“What do you mean?”

“They are dating, and have been for a while now”

“What? No way!” Hazashi looked at Shota with a look of utter confusion and disbelief.

Shota gave him the ‘Your being really fucking dumb’ look. Hazashi’s face then morphed into just confusion, mixed with a little bit of sadness.

    “Why wouldn't he tell me Shota? Does he not trust me? Does he feel like he cant talk to me?”

    Shota sighed and mentally prepared himself to comfort his husband for the rest of the night.

@bakushinrights requested this.

[jpegjade]

Baby Delivery Day! - Spencer

WELCOME TO DAD!SPENCER TIME! 

Thank you to the anon who made me think about Spencer being a dad! But I’ve decided that any time I think about Spencer being a father, I’m going to write about it. I guess you could call that a series? Idk man. It’ll be sporadic though so there’s no schedule for it. So this won’t be the last of dad!Spencer

Warnings: Swearing. Lots and lots of swearing in the beginning. Also fluff. Lots and lots of cuddly fluff and happy dad!Spencer. 

_________

Twins. Twins. Twins. Spencer kept saying it to himself but it never registered. Twins… “Oh fuck, I’m having twins.” 

“Last time I checked, you weren’t carrying two extra people inside of you so shut the fuck up.” You said, gripping his hand hard. It was baby day and all you could do was yell at him because you were in pain. He wasn’t phased by it because each time you said something, you immediately followed it up with, “Oh god I’m so sorry baby. I promise I’m not doing it on purpose.” And that was immediately followed by more groaning in pain. 

“Okay, breathe. Your contractions are getting close enough to get an epidural, which will significantly help. Just don’t think about the statistical probability of significant nerve damage with the injection of the-” 

“Spencer goddamn Reid, I swear to god. This isn’t the time to be fucking smart, you smartass.” You said. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

He kissed your hand, staying by your side. The nurse came in to check on your vitals and see how you were feeling. She stayed for a moment, looking over at Spencer’s eager face. Of course, he was eager. He was going to be a dad. He couldn’t stop smiling, which pissed you off because you were in the worst pain of your life. He finally got to fulfill his dream of being a father to his own kids. Not a godfather, not an unrelated uncle, a dad. 

For months, the two of you had been talking about having a kid. A single kid. One. Uno. But when you got to the ultrasound that day, you found out you were having two and you passed out. He had never been so scared for your health and excited for kids. When you came to, he wouldn’t stop talking about how there were two little Reids waiting to come into his life, waiting to change his life forever. 

“Baby, please climb in with me. It hurts so badly.” You said, trying to stay calm. Unlike Spencer, you were scared out of your mind. You didn’t know how to interact with kids, let alone raise them, and now you were terrified that you were going to fuck them up from birth. 

Spencer climbed in the hospital bed, although half of him was barely on it. It was so small for 4 people to lay in. Four people, thought Spencer. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. 

“In a couple hours, we’re going to be parents…” He said, almost to himself. It was quiet in the room when you weren’t groaning in pain from a contraction. He put on classical music on his phone and put it next to your stomach. 

“Spencer if you don’t turn that shit off, I will kick you out of the room and deliver these demons on my own.” You threatened him. Classical music always made them move around and the last thing you wanted was for the little ones to move anywhere. 

“Okay, sorry.” He grinned, kissing the top of your head. You fell into another silence, interrupted by screaming. 

“Go. Get. The. Nurse.” You said through gritted teeth. Spencer slid his arm from behind you and almost ran into the door with excitement. It was finally time to get these babies out into the world, literally. 

Spencer was supportive through the whole process. Hours of pushing and a scare later, you had two beautiful girls. The genders were a surprise until this moment, when you held the second born in your arms. She almost didn’t make it due to a complication but the doctors were amazing at figuring it out. 

“Oh my god…” Spencer said, holding his older daughter in his arms. “Baby, you did it…” He whispered. He was so scared of waking them up that he refused to speak louder than a whisper. As the two of you laid in the hospital bed together, holding your daughters, you couldn’t help but get choked up. 

“Spence… What did we do?” You said, a mix of emotions finally showing themselves. You didn’t know what you were feeling but you knew it was a mix of things rushing at you all at once, not all of them good. 

The nurse came in exactly when Spencer was about to answer. She came to get the girls so they could be placed with the rest of the babies for a little while. He was disappointed but excited because that meant he could show the team his daughters as they slept in their small beds. 

“We created a miracle.” He said, taking you in his arms. He was so happy that the pregnancy stage was over. You were much nicer when you weren’t in extreme amounts of pain. But he was really glad it was over because he missed being close to you. When you were carrying the girls, you seemed so far away. Now, he could hold you close like before. 

“What if I fuck them up? What if I passed something down? What if…” You trailed off, not able to look at him. 

“Hmm?” He said, curious about what you had to say next. He had something prepared already but he waited for you to finish first. 

“What if I’m bad at this? I know you’ll be an amazing dad but… What if I’m not good enough?” You finally looked up at him to see his face relaxed as if the idea didn’t phase him. Probably because it didn’t. There was something annoying but comforting in the fact that he wasn’t bothered by your worries. 

“Right now, the only way you could fail is by forgetting I’m right here with you. Who knows what kind of parents we’re going to be. My dad walked out on us. I had to take care of my mom, even now. Your parents fell out of love with each other and you suffered because of it. We weren’t led by prime examples in our lives so our parental compass isn’t great. But we know what not to do. We know the effects of negative reinforcement and we have the chance to make things right by taking it one step at a time. So that’s what we’re going to do. Take it one day at a time.” He said, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Okay.” Was all you could say before he brought you in for a sweet kiss. 

“Hey y/n?” He said, an eager look on his face. “Can I show the team the girls?” 

“Only if someone stays with me while you’re gone. I like Penelope. She’s adorable and I think she loves me.” You said, watching Spencer slow roll off the bed. You groaned because you were still sore from hurling two beautiful angels from your body. 

“I’ll go get her.” Spencer kissed you one more time, a longer kiss, before he nearly skipped out of the room. 

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Yawning, you didn’t realize how tired you really were. You closed your eyes for just a couple seconds. Penelope walked in to find you sleeping soundly so she sat in the chair next to your bed and started building a castle out of all the jello she requested from the Nurses’ Station. She also added some of your favorite show’s mini figurines. 

Meanwhile, Spencer was hugging everyone else in the waiting room. They all congratulated him, so excited that they got to see the two newest additions to his family. 

“There they are, the ones without names.” He said, pointing to the two beds pushed next to each other. The other beds had some space between them but it was like the nurses knew these two had a little bit more of a bond with each other. 

“Pretty boy has twins!” Morgan said, slapping him on the shoulder. 

Spencer had kept so much of the pregnancy a secret because everything was touch and go for a while. Once he was sure everything was permanent, he was able to tell them things. He kept this part a secret the whole time though because it seemed like a great surprise. 

“I’m proud of you, Spence,” JJ said, hugging Spencer again. She had been detrimental in keeping you and Spencer sane during this whole process.

Hotch shed a tear. An actual tear and a smile. He knew how long and hard Spencer had fought to keep his hope in love and the world alive and now, Spencer looked like he was glowing like never before. 

For the next 20 minutes, everyone was gathered in the hallway as they watched the girls sleep and turn over. The older daughter smiled in her sleep and Spencer almost broke down. When it was time to feed them, they all said goodbye to Spencer and he returned to your room. 

Walking in, the girls were already there but you were curled up and gently snoring. One of the beds was empty but when he looked at Penelope, tears were running down her face as she smiled. Out of everyone, she was the most excited about the two of you having kids.

“We were supposed to ask together but I guess I’ll have to do it alone,” Spencer said, picking up the younger born. The way he could tell them apart was a little black freckle that the younger one had on her left cheek while the older daughter had it on her nose, like a piercing. 

“Are you about to ask me to be the godmother? Because I will start sobbing.” Penelope said. Her eyes twinkled with more than tears. 

“I was but if you’re going to cry then I’ll wait until a more appropriate time than when you’re holding the second light of my life.” He said, looking down at his daughter. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” She said, smiling. “Who’s my baby daddy?” She said, just curious about the godfather. 

“Morgan.” Spencer said, his daughter’s tiny hand grabbing onto his finger. He was open and closing her tiny hand because he was just fascinated and she grabbed on and wouldn’t let go. Slowly she opened her eyes and he smiled at her. 

“Oh so my baby daddy is my babies’ daddy.” Penelope said, in a complete joke. 

“Penelope, meet Alexandria Maeve Reid.” You said, barely opening your eyes. 

Spencer’s breath hitched in his throat. “What?” He was barely able to get out. 

You and Spencer had played around with names before but he never told you about the middle name thing. Fresh tears came to his eyes at the thought of it. 

“And Spencer has Chloe Gideon Reid.” You were more exhausted than ever. “I thought about it and Spencer left the options up to me so I just went with it. I hope that’s okay, baby.” 

You barely had the strength to stay awake any longer so you went back to sleep as soon as Spencer climbed into bed with you, Chloe in his arms. 

“Hi Chloe…” He said. Almost on queue, she opened her eyes and stared at him with a little smile spreading on her face before she closed her eyes again. He looked over at Alexandria, who was opening and closing her hands. “Hi baby Alexandria…” He whispered. 

__________

Dad!Spencer makes me so angry at CM bc he would be the best dad. 

Tags: 

@winchestertardis

@ancailinaerach

[jordanstrophe]

This One is Mine, Part 4

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CW: Whump, Pet whump, some wounds mentioned, death mentioned, abuse and withstrains mentioned, this one is a little bit darker, but the next one will be fluffy, I swear <3

I also want to thank the two people who followed me, I love you

   “We’re almost there.” Charles muttered through his teeth, sipping on his drink in hand. Michael kept his head down after finishing his meal. “Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions?” Charles asked. “Of course, sir.” He nodded.  “How old are you?” He asked.   “20, sir.” He said. It was hard to tell just how old he was, with how malnourished he looked. He was far too thin for his height, and looked utterly exhausted. He had perked up with a small spike of energy after he had eaten, and seemed slightly more comfortable. There was still a long road ahead of them. 

“How long were you there?” He asked.  “I..  um..” He stuttered. His eyes scanned the floor, scattering his thoughts. “I don’t know, sir.” He said guiltily, lowering his head further.

  “A week? A month? Give me a guess, it doesn’t have to be perfect. I would like an idea.” He said.  “Maybe a c-couple of months...” He held his arms defensively. He was still wearing Charles' oversized coat, but he could still get a glance of all the bruises and cuts littering his body every now and then. Miles let out a sad sigh from the driver's seat. 

“All good Miles?” Charles asked.  “Yeah, I uh. I’ll tell you when we get home. We’re about there, sir.” He said. That was never a good sign. He’s known Miles for years, he is his bodyguard, assistant, and best friend all in one. He could tell when he was disturbed. 

He turned back to Michael. “I’m sorry, you must have been through a lot. As I mentioned before, I was not expecting to bring you home today, so we’re going to have to scrounge last second to set some things up for you. I hope that’s alright.” He tried to give a reassuring smile, but he could still tell Michael was petrified with fear. 

“Here we are! Home sweet home.” Miles sang, as he took a sharp turn to a large metal gate. The property was completely surrounded by tall brick walls, decorated with lanterns, with vines and flowers growing down it. The large gate slowly cracked open, as they drove on through. 

Michael kept his eyes low. The panic began brewing, as he realized whatever life was in store for him, was about to begin. As much as he wanted to go outside, into the warm welcoming sun waiting for him, so could a pair of hands, that would drag him into a cell, or under a desk, or cause harm, and agony, and-

  Crack

The door opened on his side, as he cried out as if he had been struck. “Hey! Hey, it’s okay!” Miles panicked. All he had done was open the car door for him. “Charles!” Miles called, worriedly waving him over. Charles appeared behind Miles, as he slowly reached into the car and put a hand on his shoulder. Michael was hunched over, breathing heavy, trembling as he squinted up at him. 

“It’s okay, no one is going to hurt you.” He soothed. Mihcael had forgotten what was going on, and was disorientated by the change of pace, but the heavy arm on his shoulder was usually a sign that everything was okay. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, and the ground was filled with sharp gravel. “Is it okay if I pick you up until we reach the stairs?” He asked. As much as he would rather walk, he didn’t want to say no to the man, so he silently nodded. 

“Alright, up we go.” He smiled, He placed a hand gently around his back, and one arm under his knees, and hoisted him up in bridal style. Michael hissed in discomfort, and immediately latched onto Charles' neck.  Shoot... He had forgotten that his back was mangled from his time with Malcolm. Michael had wrapped his arms around Charles neck, and nudged his face into the crook of his neck, as he bit down his whimpers. Charles moved his hand higher so it was more comfortable, and quickly set his bare feet at the stairs. “I’m so sorry.” He muttered apologetically, as he gently set him down. “I-I’m okay.” He muttered back, adjusting the heavy coat wrapped around him. "I'll get a doctor to look you over soon, I promise." He assured. 

A doctor? Why would he care if he was oka- He looked up at the house, and his breath was knocked out of him again.

It was a mansion. Large steps leading up to the decorative wooden carved door, roof so tall you felt like falling backwards if you looked up as high, white pillars decorating the front porch. He could hear a powerful fountain behind him by the car. The walls that surrounded the property had hedges lining the inside, with elegant trees that looked well kept, trimmed, and healthy. 

“I know what you’re thinking, it’s sooo rural.” Charles laughed, standing behind and draping his arms around his shoulders. 

“It’s... It’s unreal.” He muttered.  

“Not surprising, Charles designed it.” Miles smiled proudly.

“I did not! Miles helped me, I just told him I wanted something nice, and this is what he comes up with.” He laughed. 

Michael was speechless, as Charles took his arm and led him up the stairs. The large doors swung open, as a woman pushed both doors open with her arms stretched out.   “Charles! Oh thank goodness, you have no ide-” She stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed the young boy by Charles' side, who slowly slunk behind him as best he could. She had long blond hair,  and was well dressed in a dark fancy suit jacket.

 “You... You actually got one.” She muttered, mind as blank as a sheet. 

“LIEM! CHARLES GOT A PET!” She turned her head and yelled into the house.

“WHAT?” A man shrieked back. Scrambling could be heard from inside the house, as a head poked out from the door. 

“Charles! You didn’t actually get one, did yo-" Charles cut him off, "No! all of you back inside the house, right now.” He commanded, pointing back into the house. They both went silent, as the women slowly took a single step back into the house.

“Give us the living room, he needs some space. Mia, please go with Liam upstairs and set up that guest room for me please, not a peep until I come get you, okay?” He asked. Mia sighed with disappointment. “Of course, sir.” She bowed politely, then scrambled back into the house, grabbing Liam’s arm as they excitedly muttered to each along the way. 

Charles reached behind him, and took Michael’s arm, who had fully squirmed his way behind him, and was gripping his shirt tightly with his face pressed into his back.

“Sorry about that, you can come on out now.” He coaxed him out.

He took his arm around his shoulder and pulled to stand next to him. He just shuffled his way to whatever direction he was guided to. He walked him into the house into a living room that was just as breathtaking as the outside. A soft cream carpet covered the floor, large chairs and couches surrounded a decorated small coffee table in the middle of the room, above it was a silver leaf chandelier that dimly lit the room. As pretty as it was, it gave him an uneasy feeling. A massive fireplace sat behind the table, with a shelf above it decorated with candles, golden owl sculptures, and a giant floral painting hanging above it. There were large stairs that curved along the wall onto a balcony with hallways and endless doors.

His first instinct was where his corner might be. Under the coffee table? The floor was carpeted, it would be nicer on his knees, rather than the hard cement surface he was used to. Or maybe there was a cell, or a cage for him deep within the endless mansion. A gentle hand directed him to the couch. He obeyed, and sat down at the long, plush floral couch. “I’m going to try and find some clothes your size. Just relax here for two minuets.” He smiled at him, and placed a gentle hand in his hair. “Miles, you’re a bit more his size, do you mind showing me your closet?” Charles asked. “Of course!” Miles smiled.

Michael starred in his direction with a concerned expression as they walked off. Wait, just like that? He was being left unsupervised? Where were the withstrains? The threats whispered in his ear to behave, or else? He was left alone without any instructions on how to behave, as he pulled the coat around him tightly. He was exhausted, as he closed his eyes for just a second...

“Yeah! This will do, thanks Miles. I’ll get him his own clothes at some point, but for today, he just needs to get cleaned up, and rested.” Charles smiled, holding a folded pair of fresh clothes. “When do you think we’ll get a chance to talk?” Miles asked. He slowly followed Charles back down to the living room.  “When he falls asleep I suppose, how serious is it?” He asked. “Well, it’s not an emergency, but it’s something that might help you out in dealing with him. Speaking of which... How are you going to deal with him? Do you have the time to actually work with him, and take care of him?” He asked. Charles sighed in response. “Not really, but I work from home, aside from the business meetings, but I’ll do my best. I wonder if I can get him to bond with Mia, and she can help out.” He said. They entered the living room, and both men froze. 

Michael was completely passed out on the couch, with the coat tucked around him. 

“Well um... I guess we get to talk after all.” Charles whispered. He crept up, and silently placed the folded clothes on the table.  “Into the kitchen, I could use a drink after today.” He whispered, sneaking back to Miles, as they left him to his rest.

Miles poured them both a drink, as set it at the small table in the kitchen. It was more of a small bar then anything, but moving into the diner room felt a bit over the top. 

“Remember that tour guy who showed us around Malcolm’s factory? Well I got to talk to him for a bit while you were getting Michael situated.” Miles took a moment to take a deep breath, swirling the drink in his hand. 

“I asked him about what it meant to be Malcolm’s favorite. And it uh... It’s not good.” He shivered. Charles stayed silent, and listened.

“Every month or so, he fixated on one of the slaves. He “adopts” them in a way, and keeps them with him at all times. When I heard that, I knew something was up. Why every month? What happened to all the old favorites?... So I asked the old man where they were.”  Before Miles could continue, Charles took a deep breath, and then a drink.

“He said they all died.” 

Charles stopped mid drink, before continuing. 

"How." 

"He obsesses over them, training them like a project, making them behave perfectly in his eyes. I think he just goes in over his head sometimes, and beats them to death, then he copes with their death by fixating on another one." Miles explained. "He uh.. He had Michael for a little over a month now. After seeing how Malcolm reacted when he came back, I... I think you saved his life, sir." 

Charles took a shaky deep breath. He was angry. He had done his best to stay away from the Pet industry, but he never knew it could get that bad. Sure, his own hands were dirty, but it was never inhuman. 

"He's going to try. He's going to try and take him back. I know it." Charles muttered. 

"But that kid... Is mine, now." He growled.

"He's mine."

[lilacandladybugs]

hey since youre talking about christianity, i was wondering if you could answer a question ive been curious about. if god cares about people and if jesus died for our sins, then why does hell exist? and if god cares about us then why did he let so much bad stuff happened in his name, and even cause it, like with the noah’s arch story?

sorry if any of this is wrong ive never read the bible, but ive had bad experiences with christianity in the past and the way you talk about it seems much nicer than the way i know it

I don’t think I can answer this question in a way that doesn’t come across as pretentious or like I’m asking for an argument or just being straight up unsatisfying. But I just am going to try anyway because i'm hoping that maybe this will be comforting or helpful to someone. I’m sorry if this is offensive I am really trying my best, please take this all in the best possible way and be gracious with me 

The thing about this ask is that it’s actually a bunch of different questions, and since each of them individually is really hard to answer so I’m going to narrow it down to just one ( im sorry ;-; ) . The one I’ve thought about the most is “Why does God let bad things happen if he loves us?”

When this question first really occurred to me, I was already a believer. So I was already pretty convinced that God exists logically, from the perspective of history, philosophy, science, and my personal experience. I believed in the /existence/ of the God who is represented in the scriptures. (I doubt anyone wants it but I can give you a list of resources if you want to look into any of that.) The struggle for me was whether or not all that evidence held true in the face of this moral dilemma; the problem of evil in the presence of a loving God.

But I just couldn’t turn my back on the concept of a moral grounding in God. I had a philosophy professor tell me that people are mortal and so we shouldn’t grieve them like they’re immortal, that grief is a choice, and that trauma is a choice. I respected her so much, but I just couldn’t accept that. There’s nothing more unsettling to me than suggesting that cruelty and death and suffering are only wrong because you think they are, and not because they’re violating sacred ancient laws. My friends dying, people hurting me, that isn’t just in my head. It’s /real/. They’re really dead, and it really matters. People really did something wrong when they hurt me, and it isn’t my fault for being hurt. It’s their fault for being cruel. And their cruelty is objectively morally wrong.

I realized that if I became an atheist I would have to accept the fact that there isn’t /objectively/ any difference between right and wrong. There isn’t any theoretical “right way” that the world should be. But to me, there is a right way it should be. There is a right way and it was lost because of sin.

It was I guess comforting that Christianity provided the premises I needed to ask a question like this. Evil exists. And love exists. So how can God exist? What a comforting question, in a way. To get to grieve, to be angry, to wonder what’s going on, to want things to be different. It was validating i guess

Don’t get me wrong i was FURIOUS i was so angry. I was so angry and so conflicted I kind of thought I might just like rip apart at my seams but I just felt caught between a rock and a hard place to be either abandoned by God or to not even be able to think about my experiences in a way that felt coherent.

He showed up though. I remember swearing at him, and laying up at night thinking he wasn’t there, I told him I wouldn’t have to have trauma if he would’ve stepped in, that my friends wouldn’t be dead, that he let it happen to me, that he just /witnessed/ it. And man idk he just showed up. He showed up every time. I almost walked away like five times that summer. And every time he sent someone, there was always someone that showed up and talked to me like out of nowhere. Or music, or scripture, or something someone said in passing. 

The night that it was really bad was when I realized that the only person who could save me was God and I cried out to him, and I just idk I’ve never been so desperate. I went to church the next day against my will and the sermon felt like it was written for me specifically. I cried through the whole thing.

If God is goodness, then how can I say he isn’t with me and around me constantly? In the sunrise and sunset, in the stars, in flowers, and in kind words. In sermons. In friends and family. In all the coincidences that stopped me from becoming an atheist, all of the answered prayers and the impossibilities. That’s why my side blog is called @in-the-whisper. Because I felt him there, even though it hurt, he was with me in the quiet and in the silence, in his whisper in a thousand different ways.

I was posed this question by someone who was there for me in one of those moments where I almost walked away from God, “Is sufficiency abundant?” I guess I thought it was. Where was God? In the peace that surpasses understanding. In the knowledge that everything is finished, that he died for us, that he didn’t abandon us. That whatever terrible things happen, he was willing to take all of the consequences for that onto himself in the person of Jesus. That one day he will set things right, even though it isn’t right right now. 

It comes down to the Gospel (good news, core story of the Christian faith); humanity actively chose to walk away from God in an act of rebellion. We had free will because God created us tenderly to be in a loving relationship with him, and loving relationships must be based on free will and they must be two way. So he let us walk away from him, and away from the sustainer of life our bodies break, our world crumbles, and we die. In order to bridge that gap, he chose to die in our place, so that we could re enter that free will relationship with him if we so choose. He died on the cross, descended into hell, and then in three days he rose from the grave, defeating death. And one day he will return on a white horse to rescue us and to take the world back as his own. If I believed that to be true, then I believed in the greatest intervention in human history that has ever occurred. The God of the Bible isn’t a distant God, "God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him." 1 John 4:9 He did the unthinkable for us.

Living in light of the gospel helped me to understand the way that God is present in my life, my present, past, and in my future. It gave me peace. When Horatio G. Spafford’s two daughters and wife died in a shipwreck, he wrote this,

“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul." 

“Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control: that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul.

“My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought. My sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

“And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight The clouds be rolled back as a scroll The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend Even so, it is well with my soul!

“It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

I don’t have an answer for your question. What I know is that I am willing to rest in the knowledge of my personal experiences and my research that God exists, that he is loving, and that he is powerful, just, and wise. Even the winds and the seas obey him, the mountains are like pebbles to him, thunder rolls at the sound of his voice. He had thought before time began, he gave all knowledge and all wisdom to us. 

Why do bad things happen also brings up the question, why do good things happen? Who do we have to thank when we get up in the morning and can see or hear or move or are alive in general? Why are we so blessed as to have two days and not just one? Where do mornings and complexity and beauty and wonder come from? They come from him. Not because we need it, but because he wants to give it to us. Enjoyment, existence, love, laughter, thought, beauty, heartbreak. The world is just as beautiful as it is terrible, and why should it be beautiful? Because he wants it to be that way.

God is so patient. He is so patient and kind and powerful, and he wants to hear your questions. Some of them, like this one, are in my opinion something that you have to talk to him about directly. He gives us thought and logic and reason and wisdom, and he asks for us to engage him. He will answer.

If any believers are reading this, I want you to know that it is enough to cry out to him in pain. It is enough to want to want to believe in him. He would so much rather hear from you in your anger than never hear from you at all. Seek him out, he will find you. He will chase after you.

I bet that he would chase after me, bet my life on it. I might not know the answer, but I am confident enough in what I do know that I’m willing to bet my existence that God will come true on his promises, that he will deliver me, that everything will be okay, that he is bigger than my trauma, and that he will hold me.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,     neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. 9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,     so are my ways higher than your ways     and my thoughts than your thoughts. 10 As the rain and the snow     come down from heaven, and do not return to it     without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish,     so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, 11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:     It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire     and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. 12 You will go out in joy     and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills     will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field     will clap their hands. 13 Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,     and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the Lord’s renown,     for an everlasting sign,     that will endure forever.” Isaiah 55:8-13

And I’m holding him to that promise.

[americasmarauders]

Wasteland, baby!--Ben Hargreeves (part 3).

author’s note: hey again. i’m reposting this cause tumblr sucks and the first post wasn’t showing on ANY of the tags. like any. so please, i beg of you, reblog so this doesn’t happen again and the post stays relevant enough for at least a couple of days and not a couple of hours. Now onto the actual post. Once again, I wanna thank @cutekittylexie for being an awesome human being and making me go through this. and calming me when I thought this was going to flop (and it kinda did so i’m trying again). 

Beware:it’s an emotional one. mentions of injuries and blood (canon typical). 

words: 4310

masterlist

part 1

part 2

part 4

#

Ben.

         Ben.

         Ben.

         Ben.

         It was all that Y/N could think about. He consumed her thoughts. Every waking moment she spent, he was on her mind. If he wasn’t her main thought, Ben would most definitely be on the back of her mind. His smile intoxicated her, to the point the air would be knocked out of her. She would look at every corner for him, even though she knew he wouldn’t be there.

         It wasn’t healthy to be obsessed with someone. And she would argue she wasn’t obsessed. More like addicted. Even if that didn’t better her case, it was the truth.

         There she stood, in the alley next to Ben’s house, staring at his window for the sign that she could go up and see him. After her classes ended it seemed suspicious for them to keep meeting in the morning so they came with a more logical solution: afternoons.

         Ben would say what his schedule for the next day would be. They would set up a time for Y/N to be at the alley. He would open his window for her and she would climb the fire escape up to his room.

         It was nicer than the minute long dates they had in the morning. They would spend hours just talking in hushed tones, he would show her his studies and the photos he had taken of his siblings. They would talk about dreams, memories they had and about making new ones.

         The window opened and Ben peaked through it. He look down at her and smiled brightly, nodding so she could go up. She smiled back and started to climb the fire escape quickly. Thank God she had chosen to wear shorts instead of the dress she had just bought. She had loved it and she was sure Ben would like it too. Not that she cared if he liked it or not. But she did.

         She got in the room with his help, his hands calloused in comparison to hers. She flung herself on top of him, hugging him tightly. She heard him release a breathy chuckle then he nuzzled his head on the crook of her neck. He was still wearing that stiff uniform their Father made them wear. She could smell the scent of the soap.

         “Hi, Ben,” she said airily, clutching his shoulders as if it was her lifeline.

         “Hey,” he broke the hug and rested his hands on her cheeks. “How you’ve been?”

         She smiled smally. “I’m good,” his thumbs rubbed her cheeks delicately and gently. “How are you?”

         The smile he adorned faltered and his face became somber. His hands dropped from her face and he sat on his bed defeated. He rested his hands on his face, his hair falling delicately on his forehead. Y/N sat beside him and put a hand on his leg, just above his knee. ‘I’m here,’ the gesture whispered.

         “Dad’s been especially cruel today in training,” he said, his voice quivering. “I’m so tired, Y/N, I don’t know how much longer I can take it,” his hands dropped from his face, revealing his deep eyes bathed in unshed tears.

         “Oh, Ben,” she said sadly. “I’m so sorry, love.”

         He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. There’s nothing you can do, he’s like this sometimes.”

         She looked at him sadly and clasped his hands between her own. “I’m here for you, Ben. Whatever you need.”

         He looked at her, his eyes twinkling in the warm afternoon light. “Please, stay,” he said quietly.

         “Of course,” she said as if it was absurd to imply she wouldn’t. She cozied herself next to the bedrest, her back leaning on the wall behind her. Her hands still clutching his tightly, rubbing small circles in the back of it.

         They stayed like that for a couple of hours. They talked a little but she could feel he didn’t want to, so the majority of the time they stayed quiet, just listening to the noises his siblings made in their rooms. It was pleasant, she could feel the life of the house, even if there was a tyrant trying to squash it out of them.

         The sun was setting when she felt her phone vibrating on the back pocket of her shorts. “Shit!” she disentangled herself from Ben’s warm embrace. “Shit, shit, shit!”

         “What is it? Is everything okay?” Ben asked worriedly, as she looked at the tiny screen of her phone exasperated.

         “I have to head home. I’m late, I promised my mom I would help her with a new recipe,” Y/N said, putting her shoes on. She got up and looked at Ben, a sad expression replacing the peaceful one he had moments ago.

         “Oh,” he muttered.

         “Ben, it’s okay,” she sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

         “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

         Y/N smiled gently. “I’ll bring you a piece of the cake,” she said.

         “Thanks,” he said avoiding her eye sight.

         She got up and headed to the window. She opened it enough so she could pass it through. She looked back at Ben, his face sad and defeated as if she was taking all of his peace with her.

         She didn’t know what possessed her, but suddenly she turned her back to the window and sat down next to Ben. He looked at her shocked as she leaned in towards him. Their lips brushed, for a mere second, before Y/N closed the gap and pressed a gentle, almost ghostly kiss on his pretty lips. He was taken by absolute surprise, and before he had time to react she broke the kiss, a smile on her face.

         Ben was quicker than her, however. Before she could get up and leave, he put his hand on her cheek and brought her lips to his on more time. The kiss, albeit still gentle, was considerably more intense. Y/N thanked the stars she was sitting, because she was sure she couldn’t stand up straight as she melted into the kiss.

         Ben broke the kiss a moment too soon, in Y/N’s opinion. His thumb caressed her cheek, his touch ghostly. “I have to go,” she said sadly.

         “Yeah,” he breathed out. He smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

         “Of course,” she replied.

         Against her heart and her brain, she got up and headed to the window. She put her leg out of it. She gave Ben one last look and one last smile before she bolted out of the room, running home. She had a lovesick smile on her face that she didn’t even realize until her mom gave her an odd look before scolding her for being late.

#

#

Ben was shocked. There was no other way to describe it.

          His heart beating wildly in his chest, he got up from his bed. His hands hovering over the doorknob, he tried to wrap his head on what just had happened. He unlocked the door and got through it. Closing it behind him, he headed to Diego’s room.

          The door was closed, and Ben didn’t bother knocking. He opened it and closed it behind him. He heard a whoosh sound next to him, a knife lodged on the wall next to him. He sighed, unfazed, as he saw Diego

          “Get out,” Diego said grumpily. “Not in the mood, Ben.”

          “I need to talk to you,” Ben replied.

          Diego got up, another knife in his hand. He unlodged the knife from the wall, looking Ben dead in the eye. “I don’t care. Get out,” he muttered turning on his back. He laid on his bed, staring at the selling, play with his knives once again.

          “I kissed her,” Ben blurted out.

          Diego stopped fiddling and sat up right. “What?” he whispered, shocked.

          “I kissed her,” Ben said calmly.

          “Yeah, yeah, I got that, Ben,” Diego dismissed. “When?” he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

          “Um,” Ben looked down at his feet, “just now.”

          “You snuck out?” Diego asked.

          “More like I snuck her in.”

          Diego laughed at the situation. “This is hilarious. How long you’ve been sneaking her in?”

          “A month,” he answered honestly. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to what I just told you,” Ben completed, indignantly.

          “It’s so relevant, Ben. Out of all of us, you’re the one breaking the most sacred rule,” he shook his head, laughing.

          “Diego!” Ben screamed, sobering his brother up. “I kissed Y/N,” Ben said somberly.

          “Here,” Diego patted on the bed beside him, and Ben sat. Diego gave him a side hug. “It’s fine, Ben. Dad won’t find out, chill,” Diego calmed him. “No one knows you’ve been ruining your good boy reputation by sneaking people in. I won’t tell the old man. Klaus won’t tell him.”

          “I know,” Ben muttered. “I’m sorry.”

          “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Benny,” Diego said, messing with Ben’s hair. “So, how was it?”

          Ben let out a chuckle. “It was…” how does he make it sound cool? How does he make seem like it was no big deal, when it was the biggest deal in the world? “It was nice.”

          “Yeah, right,” Diego said, smirking. “Only nice?”

          “Stop it,” Ben said.

          “Hey,” Diego lifted his hands in surrender, “I’m just looking for the truth.”

          “Ha-ha,” Ben fake laughed. “You’re really funny, you know that?”

          “I pride myself in that, actually,” Diego replied smugly. “But, hey, seriously, I’m happy for you,”

          “Thanks, Diego,” Ben shrugged.

          “You’re taking your steps to get out of this godforsaken place,” Diego said bitterly.

          “I can’t wait,” Ben shot back, just as bitterly. There was a moment of silence between them before Ben said something again. “Can I ask something of you?”

          “It depends where’s the body,” Diego said kiddingly.

          “If something happens to me,” Ben started quietly, “would you tell Y/N?”

          “Why are you asking me this?” Diego was taken back by the bluntness of his question.

          “Please, Diego,” Ben begged. “If something happens and no one tells her, she’ll find out by the papers and I can’t do that to her.”

          “Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her,” Diego reassured him, in a dismissive way that didn’t go unnoticed by Ben. Nevertheless, he held Diego to his word and if something were to happen, he knew Diego would do what he promised.

#

#

True to her word, Y/N did in fact bring him cake the next day. Chocolate cake.

          Truly, Ben didn’t really care if she brought an entire bakery with her, as long as she was there with him. It was her that made it all worth it, the sneaking out—or sneaking in—the furtiveness, the secrets, the fear. She was worth all of it.

          She got in his room, a blue Tupperware on her hand. “You know, my mom wants to meet you she’s been oof—”

          Ben interrupted her once she was fully in his room. He grabbed her waist and brought her closer to him, clashing his lips to hers. She was shocked for a second, and his heart started to race uncomfortably as thoughts of ‘I fucked up’ passed through his mind. But soon enough, she dropped the Tupperware on his bed, her arms finding its way to his neck, pressing closer to him than Ben ever thought possible.

          It was something entirely new for Ben. This fuzzy feeling embracing his entire being, making his cheeks heat up with something so unknown and yet so familiar. Her hands found his hair, her finger running through it. It was like he was on fire, his tummy coiling delightfully, unlike when the Horror got out.

          He broke the kiss yet again, resting his forehead on hers. “I just had to test something,” he explained, a bit out of breath.

          “It’s fine,” she smiled at him, her eyes gazing at him lovingly. “I brought you cake,” she mentioned coyly.

          “I know,” he nodded, his hands on her cheeks. He smiled back at her.

          “My mom insisted on this,” she explained. “She’s been hearing so much about you, she wants to meet you, you know?” she finished out breath. “I’m sorry if this—”

          “Hey, hey,” he said gently. “I’d love to meet her.”

          “Really?” she said happily. “Isn’t it too much? It’s just this is so new, literally a day old, I don’t want to scare you away, you—”

          “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I’ve been your friend for longer than this. I’ll be fine meeting your mom.”

          She smiled brightly at him. “Okay,” she nodded shyly.

          They eventually sat on Ben’s bed and ate the chocolate cake Y/N had brought—if Ben’s Dad saw him now, he would receive a scolding. They may or may not have made out too, and Ben may or may not have the taste of her lips lingering on his mouth for a while after she left.

#

#

They continued with that routine right up until the last day of her summer vacation.

          The amount of time spent varied. Mostly because sometimes they would be interrupted by that dreaded alarm. Y/N would always jump at the sound, and Ben would find it cute if it wasn’t so goddamn terrible. It would always break his heart to leave her like that, in a rush and without a proper goodbye.

          Ben remembered when he was younger: he wasn’t afraid of the thought of something happening on a mission. It just was a perk, something that could happen but it most likely wouldn’t. Now? It brought chills down his spine.

          The mere thought of him dying, or worse dying without getting to say goodbye, made bile rise to his mouth and his head to feel light. The air would be stolen from his lungs and only Y/N could calm him.

          He had written a series of letters to her in case something were to happen. He instructed Diego on where to find them, his brother finding it silly Ben was being so fatalistic. But he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. It probably wouldn’t. But just in case, he thought.

          And there they were, last day of summer, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed, as he recited some poems from his favorite book to her. He never really appreciated the love poems until he felt what was like to be in love. Now, they were his favorite, especially to recite, because he got to see Y/N’s reaction to it. Some she would tear up, others well… let’s just say some Ben didn’t even get to finish.

          “They asked: ‘do you love her to death?’. I said: ‘Speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life’,” Ben recited.

         He felt her head leave his shoulders. He looked at her, and in that split second, she closed the gap between them and kissed him tenderly. He hadn’t realized what he had just confessed to her, and she didn’t give him time to, because one moment they were tenderly kissing, the other she was completely entangled in his embrace, her hands running on his hair the way that made Ben crazy.

         The book completely abandoned next to Ben, his hands on her cheeks the way he knew she liked it. Ben’s lips moved to her jaw, kissing his way down to her neck. She muttered a small Ben in his ears, and he sucked a spot on her neck a little bit too harshly in the heat of the moment. His lips magnetically went back to hers, and they stayed there, entwined for a while.

         That is, until Klaus came barging in Ben’s room.

         “Benny, I need your notes for—oh,” Klaus began. Ben could feel the smirk creeping on his brother’s face. “Ben, you dawg!”

         It usually was Ben the one to break the kiss, but this time it was Y/N. She complete left his arms, a cold feeling settling in him, not only for the fact she wasn’t embracing him, but because he had realized he had forgotten to lock his bedroom’s door.

         Ben took long enough to react because a second later, Diego appeared in the door frame too, the same smug face. Ben dragged them both inside his room, locking the door behind him. He could see Y/N averting her eyes to her feet, embarrassed at the situation.

         “Goddammit, Klaus!” Ben gritted through his teeth. “Couldn’t you be quieter?”

         “Hey, I only wanted your notes for today’s class, you were the one who was eating that poor girls face,” Klaus defended himself.

         “Klaus,” Ben gritted and jumped on his brother, his hands balled in fists. Diego got in the middle of them both, separating them with his body, his hands on their chests.

         “Stop it!” Diego said loudly. Ben calmed down, his eyes full of anger. Klaus still adorned a mischievous expression, completely amused by his brother’s embarrassment and anger.

         The atmosphere tense, Y/N got up from the bed and walked next to Ben. She extended her hand to Klaus. “I’m Y/N,” she said quietly, with a smiled. Klaus eyes calmed and softened. He took her hand and shook it.

         “Nice to meet you. You know, I’ve heard so much about you,” he said charmingly. Ben could see she hadn’t even flinched at that pathetic attempt.

         “No, you haven’t,” Ben scoffed, and Klaus glared at him angrily.

         “Shush, Ben,” Klaus said. Diego dropped his hands to his side.

         Y/N turned to Diego then and extended her hand to him. “You must be Diego, right?”

         He shook it. “Right,” he said dryly. “And you’re the Y/N.”

         “The one and only,” she said quietly, as a joke. Ben cracked a smile at her charm, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his brothers. “Well, I think it’s time I leave, it’s getting late and I promised my parents I’d be home early.”

         “Yeah, yeah of course,” Ben said, shaking his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning okay?”

         “Okay,” she nodded as she left through his window. “Hey Ben!”

         “Hum?” he hummed, looking at her, he got closer to her leaning down to see her properly.

         She kissed him gently on his lips. “I love you too,” she whispered and left, climbing down the fire escape.

         Ben turned to his brothers, after he closed the window, theirs faces so smug and insufferable. Ben sighed defeated, opening his drawer on his tiny table, for his notes. He shoved it to Klaus and said: “Here it is, the fucking notes. Now out.”

         He unlocked the door and opened it for them to leave.

         “Hey, hey, hey,” Klaus said, “you promised you would be careful with this endeavor.”

          “I was careful, okay?” Ben defended himself. “You didn’t knock.”

          “You don’t knock either,” Diego said, siding with Klaus.

          “That was different,” Ben said. “It was urgent.”

          “The notes are also urgent,” Klaus chimed in.

          Ben groaned frustrated. “It could have waited!”

          “No, it couldn’t. Do you want Dad to eat me alive, Benjamin?” Klaus said.

          Ben froze. “Of course not,” he said.

          “Well, then. Be more careful, Benny,” Diego put his hand on Ben’s shoulder.

          “This is not fair, you know,” Ben stated. “You’re holding this information hostage and this is a completely dickish thing to do!” he shouted after them, both on their backs on their way down the hall.

          He only received a middle finger in return.

#

#

Girlfriend. Such a peculiar word.

          Y/N never thought she would call herself that. It never actually crossed her mind. But after Ben…It was hard to imagine how she had lived so much time without him. She couldn’t fathom a life without him. It was almost logical that there was no other word she could call herself after Ben. Maybe a few other words, but those were reserved for the future. And what a bright future that was.

          It was his birthday today. It was a happy day, to Y/N at least. She had aced her math test—thank God—and most of all, she would spend the entire afternoon with Ben. That was special, extra special: it was getting harder and harder for them to meet. Ben’s dad was loading them with unhealthy hours of training. One day, Ben had come to her house late at night, on the verge of tears, unable to sleep because of the nightmares. Even though confused, she let him in. That night she slept on the couch—she didn’t have the heart to make him sleep uncomfortably.

          On top of unfair parental expectations, Y/N had tons of homework to go through. She had to get into college and slacking wasn’t an option. Thankfully, sometimes, Ben could help her—and she was thankful (only for a moment, though) for their father for making them take so many advanced classes—but she couldn’t rely on his help all the time, otherwise she wouldn’t actually learn.

          She raced from her school to his house. She had bought cupcakes for him, and his present was neatly wrapped inside her bag, secured between her pencil case and endless amounts of school work (no wonder her back was always hurting).

          She turned a corner, entering the alley next to his house. A bit out of breath, she looked up to his window. It was already open. She smiled and started climbing the stairs.

          He was taking a nap. Careful not to startle him, she got into the room quietly. She took of her sneakers and laid her backpack on the floor. She went to the door, checking to see if it was really locked. It was, she doubted he would really nap if it wasn’t. She rested the box of cupcakes on top of his desk and turned to look at him.

          He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. It warmed her heart to know that there was a moment in the day where he wasn’t tormented by anything. She sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. Ben moaned in complaint, shifting slightly in his sleep. She brushed his hair out his forehead delicately, her tough ghosting over his skin.

          “Ben,” she said calmly. “Darling, wake up.”

          Ben shifted once again, his eyes fluttering open. He opened a smile when he saw her. He stretched his arms and yawned, his hands falling on top of hers once he did it. “Hey,” he said softly.

          “I’m sorry I woke you,” she replied, adverting her eyes to the window.

          “It’s okay,” he said. “I can sleep when it’s actually time to sleep.”

          He squeezed her hands tightly. “Happy birthday, Ben,” she said lovingly.

          “Thanks,” he answered, smiling. He sat up right, supporting his weight on one arm. He leaned over her, their lips meeting shortly.

          “I brought you something,” she whispered, her forehead resting on his.

          “You didn’t have to, you being here is enough,” he said.

          She leaned back, looking at him with a funny look. “You’re too sweet sometimes,” Y/N said. She got up and knelt beside her backpack. “I hope you make good use of this, okay?” she told him, as she handed him a small box with a bow on top of it.

          He took the package from her hands and opened it. Inside there was a small phone and a cable. He took the phone out and flipped it open, a picture of Y/N flashing on the back of the screen. “My dad upgraded his phone, so I thought I would give this one to you. You know so we can talk, even if we can’t see each other.”

          Ben looked up at her, his eyes full of emotions she couldn’t quite place. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”

          She smiled at him. “How about we eat those cupcakes,” she pointed to the box on the table, “and read some poems?”

          “That’d be perfect.”

#

#

Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones.

          Ben would never take this long to call her after a mission. Not after he got the cell phone. Something was incredibly wrong.

          Y/N paced in her room, anxious at a phone call. Snow fell outside her window, white painting the landscape outside. She couldn’t see the Umbrella Academy from where she was, which didn’t ease her anxiety one bit. She could hear ambulances and police cars passing through the street: it must have been ugly if they needed that many cops and medics at the scene.

          “Honey, there’s someone at the door for you!” she heard her mom scream downstairs. Y/N put her slippers and went downstairs. She quietly approached the door, trying to ease her beating heart, hoping it would be Ben waiting for her at the other side. It wasn’t.

          Instead, there stood Diego, bloodied and beaten, a huge and deep scratch coming from his top right ear stopping just above his right cheek freshly sewn shut. He was wearing that stupid uniform, no coat, and she could see he was shaking from the cold. His eyes were hollow and watery, she could see dried trails of tears on his cheeks. She faltered at the sight, hand resting at the wall to prevent her from falling.

          “No,” she whispered. “Diego, no,” she said louder. “Please tell me, he—” she couldn’t stop the tears from running down anymore.

          He looked down at his hands, a bunch of letters on his hands. “I—I—I’m s—s—sorry,” he stuttered out. “H—h—he didn’t mmm—make it.”

          “Oh my,” her mom said. She ushered the boy into the house, as her daughter fell to her knees in the main foyer letting out a painful scream, tears roaming free.

          She felt Diego’s hands on her arms, calloused, getting her up. She clutched her t-shirt where her heart was supposed to be. She didn’t have one anymore. It died with Ben.

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 4 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

 July twelfth dawns like any other day, Annabeth wrapped up in Percy’s sheets. She’s spent significantly more nights in his bed than she’s spent in her own apartment over the last two months, but who could blame her? This bed is literally to die for. Therapeutic mattress for the fucking win.

 Percy, to her greatest confusion and chagrin, is a morning person. Well, actually, what he is is someone who runs on very little sleep for three weeks at a time, before crashing headfirst into his bed for thirteen hours. It is a decidedly unhealthy way to live, but it means that Annabeth is used to waking up alone. The nights where she gets to wake up with Percy are the nicer ones, sure, but his presence is suffused in every corner of the room, his smell wafting from every piece of sweaty clothing tossed haphazardly about the floor, so much so that she never feels like she is truly waking up alone.

 Gross? A little. But the smell is oddly sexy, too, especially after he’s just come home from a run, all wet and glistening and flushed, panting hard--

 Ahem.

 The point is, when Annabeth rolls out of bed in one of Percy’s shirts (the one that says “Do You Even Lift, Bro?” with an image of a male dancer raising his partner, courtesy of one Jason Grace) and stumbles into the kitchen for one of Percy’s patented brunch specials, it’s a pretty normal morning. What catches her off guard is the spread: eggs and bacon, obviously, with fruit and granola and yogurt, but also an enormous tray of delicious, flaky croissants, perfectly crescent shaped, with little bowls of every condiment imaginable, multiple flavors of jams and preserves and Nutellas.

 “Bounjour, mademoiselle!” Percy says cheerfully from the oven, perfectly accented, bending over to take out a tray. “Ça va bien?”

 “Um… bonjour…” She pokes a croissant experimentally, and is equally delighted and dismayed to find that it is just as flaky as advertised.

 “Take a seat, these ones just need to cool for a bit and then we can get started.”

 Spring in his step, he opens the refrigerator, taking out the most beautiful cake Annabeth has ever seen in her entire life. Perfectly round, paper white, with little blue borders piped around the edge, but it’s got Annabeth feeling like she’s just been doused in cold water. “How the hell did you know it was my birthday?”

 Immediately, she knows it was the exact wrong thing to say. His eyes go wide as the saucers on the table, mouth open in shock. “It’s your birthday?”

 Goddammit. “Um.”

 “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 Because birthdays were inherently a dumb concept? Because her father had to be reminded of her birthday more often than not? Because her mother had stopped sending her birthday cards after she turned thirteen, calling them a waste of money and resources? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, dipping her finger into the strawberry jam. “I guess I just didn’t think it was a big deal. Ooh, does this have rosemary in it?”

 “Annabeeeeth,” he whines, plopping the cake onto the kitchen island. “I can’t believe you! I love birthdays.”

 “Well,” she flounders, attempting to duck his sudden attention, “what were you originally celebrating? I don’t usually think of cake as a brunch option.”

 He raises an eyebrow, not at all impressed with her attempts to change the topic, but he answers dutifully, “Originally, we were celebrating me being one month cig-free--”

 “Percy!” Annabeth gasps, clapping her hands delightedly, and a little exaggeratedly. “That’s great!”

 “But,” he continues, “now we’re definitely celebrating your birthday instead.”

 “Oh, come on!”

 “Nuh uh,” he chides, grabbing his phone and beginning to type something, “I am asking Nico to pick you up a birthday card as we speak.”

 Oh. “Nico’s coming?”

 “Well, this is his apartment. Part of the deal is that I make him breakfast. I think he’s bringing his boyfriend.”

 “Is… anyone else coming?”

 “Just a couple of people, my friends Frank, Grover, Rachel… I invited Hazel and Thalia, too, but I think Hazel told me she was busy, and you know Thalia. If it’s not at a crappy dive bar then the odds of her showing up are virtually none.” Percy pauses in his text, fixing her with an odd look. “You really don’t want anyone to know, do you?”

 How easily he reads her is a little disconcerting, and also a thought that she just can’t handle right now. “I just don’t like people making a big deal out of it. You know, it’s just another day. I’d much rather celebrate you quitting.”

 He holds her gaze for a beat, before smiling, finishing typing out whatever he was doing on his phone. “Yes, I am officially quitting. Cigarettes are terrible for you, and I do not have the money to keep up the habit. So, I swear,” he holds up a hand, “No cigarettes, no weed, no vaping. Not that I ever vaped before.”

 “Oh, never?” Annabeth teases.

 “Not ever.” He leans in, grinning that devastating grin that is seriously detrimental to her health. “You could not pay me enough.”

 “Good.” She goes to meet him, pressing her mouth to his, sweetly and chastely, but swiftly turning deeper, almost against their higher brain functions, like they only exist to be here in this moment, lips against lips, tongue and tongue. She’s always hated the taste of cigarettes, she prefers edibles to blunts, and anyone who vapes is automatically dropped from her list of potential partners… but she’s never minded the taste of ash on Percy’s tongue. It was just another part of him, another facet of the whole sexy package.

 Now, though, she has the full taste of him, unfettered and unfiltered, his morning coffee and his morning breath. It is disgusting, but again, oddly thrilling. This is Percy, stripped down and divested of all the trappings of blue lipstick and tight pants. She wonders what he thinks when he sees her like this, messy haired, face and ears empty of metal, last night’s mascara smudged all around her eyes. Given the way that he deliberately threads her hair through his fingers, winding the frizzy curls around him, pulling her close enough that the pristine cake is in danger from some serious smushing, she thinks he likes it just as much.

 Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on which perspective, either Percy’s, Annabeth’s, Nico’s, or the cake’s, their little impromptu makeout session has cold water dumped on it before they can end up doing it on the kitchen island. The sound of someone unlocking the front door is almost comically loud, and they break apart, equally red and flushing.

 “Gross,” says Nico di Angelo. “No heterosexuality allowed in my kitchen.”

 “Take that back, you biphobic ass,” Percy says. “I have never been heterosexual in my life.”

 “I’m not biphobic, I just don’t want to see you getting it on on my marble countertops.”

 “Speak for yourself,” chimes in Will, setting down a grocery bag right on the spot which would have been ground zero. “Hi, Annabeth.”

 “Hey, Will.”

 “Nice of you to join us today,” he says, as though he doesn’t see her here all the time.

 She offers her assistance in cooking or setting up, knowing full well that she will be firmly rebuffed--domestics are not her strong suit, by any stretch of the imagination--and is sent away with an iced coffee that Will has so thoughtfully bought for her instead of the birthday card she was dreading.

 Soon after, the party is in full swing.

 Well, she uses the term party loosely. It is fairly intimate, even with Nico’s enormous apartment making everything smaller. They have assembled an odd amalgamation of people: “You already know Nico,” Percy says, indicating the goth prince next to, “and Will,” his boyfriend, the perpetually cheery med student, next to, “and this is Frank,” a large, physically imposing man with a shy smile, next to, “Rachel,” a red-headed girl who looked like she just walked out of a paint shower, all making space for, “and my buddy Grover,” the guy in crutches who had immediately dropped into the single, out-of-decor, but extremely comfortable-looking loveseat Nico had placed nearest to the bathroom. All told, they look like the brochure for a community college who really, really wants to publicize how diverse their student body is, but with a kind of natural chemistry and camaraderie that those kids on that brochure could only dream of. “Everyone, this is Annabeth.”

 They greet her, each giving a limp wave.

 Then Percy leaves to attend to his brunch spread, but not before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. She can feel all eyes on them, hot and burning.

 Silence.

 “So,” Annabeth says, as awkward as a freshman in an orientation mixer. “What’s up?”

 “Your hair is amazing,” says Rachel.

 Hers is crusted with paint, a deep red that turns pink against the orange in the light, a close cousin to Annabeth’s, which is in dire need of a touchup, curls thrown in disarray by Percy’s grasping fingers. “Thanks, I--”

 “So how do you two know each other?”

 Annabeth blinks. “Friend of Thalia’s,” she says. “You?”

 “Used to do ballet together,” Rachel says, brusque, efficient. “Frank, too.”

 Frank waves again.

 A beat passes.

 Annabeth looks to Grover, who watches, bemused. “You, too, I take it?”

 Another second. Then he laughs, weird, but hearty, a joyful bleat. “Oh, sure,” he says. “I’m a regular Baryshnikov.”

 She can almost feel the room relaxing, heaving a sigh after holding its breath.

 “Are you with NYCB, too?” she turns to Frank, shoving her hands in her pockets, fingers curling around the fabric there.

 Shaking his head, he swallows his orange juice. “I mostly do modern and hip hop, now, music videos and stuff.”

 Objectively, she knows that you don’t have to be skinny as a rake or bodybuilding champion to dance, but Frank is neither of these, a huge, sweet-faced guy with a healthy layer of fat around his face and torso--a strict counterpart to Percy, who could give the Belvedere Apollo a run for its money. “Have I seen you in anything?” Not that she really watches music videos, but she figures it’s the polite thing to ask.

 “Um, maybe,” he shrugs, embarrassed. “I’ve been lucky enough to work with some really big people.” Though he offers no further details.

 “Working on anything cool?” She asks, doing her best not to cajole.

 He nods. “Percy and I have a thing coming out probably in the next month or so, with--ah, well. Can’t say.”

 “Tease,” Rachel grumbles, tossing back her mimosa. “I’ve been trying to get the secret out of him for months.”

 Frank smiles, secretive and a little smug. “Sorry. You’ll find out along with everyone else.”

 “Do you work together a lot?” Annabeth asks. She had thought that Percy was strictly ballet--though, she supposes dancers do crossover work more often these days, if only for the money.

 “Not as much as we used to, sadly,” he replies. “We actually lived together in Paris for a few years while he was contracted with the opera before I decided to come back home. Vancouver,” he adds at her unspoken question.

 “Bit of a hike, from Vancouver to New York,” says Grover.

 Frank shrugs. “I was in town anyway, and I haven’t seen Percy in about a year.”

 Annabeth frowns, doing some mental math. If Frank hadn’t seen him in two years, then that meant… that Percy had been alone in Paris all that time. The man thrives off of friendship and social interaction; no wonder he was jonesing to come back to America.

 “Remind me again how long you two were together?” Rachel asks, red hair bouncing as she cocks her head. A jolt goes down Annabeth’s spine, appraising Frank in an entirely new light.

 “On and off for about two years,” says Frank, thoughtful. “But I just lived with him to save money. The rent in Paris sucks.”

 “And you were the best roommate I ever had,” Percy says, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Clean, good cook, better kisser--”

 Frank shoves him away.

 “You’ve only ever had one other roommate, other than Nico or your mom,” Grover points out. “That one guy when you first moved overseas--Frodo? Fedora?”

 “Fyodor,” Percy corrects. “He was terrible. I didn’t know any Russian, he didn’t know any English, and our French wasn’t good enough to actually hash it out, so he just gave me a permanent cold shoulder.”

 “Kind of a low bar, don’t you think?”

 “And there was my roommate in Boston.”

 Sharply, she turns her head. “You lived in Boston?”

 “Yeah, for like a year. I told you I was with Boston Ballet for a little bit, didn’t I?”

 Pretty sure he didn’t. She almost opens her mouth to retort, to ask when and compare notes, to mention that she lived in Boston, too, before remembering who she is with, swallowing her words.

 “Fyodor hated you,” Frank hums, reentering the circle. He’d wandered away and returned with a croissant, dipped in chocolate.

 “Trust, me, the feeling was mutual.”

 “It must have been,” Frank says, “because I saw your new apartment after he kicked you out--that place made a shoebox look luxurious.”

 Something in Percy’s face almost falls when Frank says that. Annabeth is sure there is a story there.

 But Rachel laughs. “Annabeth, you have no idea. It was a      Chambre de bonne    ,” she says, exaggerating the accent, “which might sound super fancy and French and cool, but trust me, it wasn’t at all. It was this size.” She slaps the kitchen island, a little too hard, her third mimosa making her loose-limbed and loud. “When I visited for Thanksgiving that year      I     had to pay for the heating bill, because Percy basically refused.”

 “It was cozy,” Percy mutters, suddenly very preoccupied with the half a croissant on his plate.

 “It was not.” Rachel says. “It was sad and cold and small.”

 Nico looks interested, but not nearly as boisterous as Rachel or Frank, “Was that the place…”

 “Ye,” Percy cuts him off, “Yes it was.” He smiles, Stepford-strained. “But, then Frank came to town, and so did his grandmother’s money.” He slaps Frank on the back. “And I got a bathtub.”

 “I still can’t believe that a ballet dancer lived anywhere for two years without a place to soak,” Frank says, shuddering.

 “I can’t believe you waited until Frank got to Paris to get yourself a sugar daddy,” Grover quips. Percy throws a grape at him. Grover, to her immense surprise, manages to catch it in his mouth.

 Annabeth can’t really be impressed. This is the second time someone has brought up Percy and Frank having a history. Something hot and angry curls in her stomach. But Percy is laughing.

 Rachel laughs too. “Oh, he didn’t wait,” she says. “He had a bevy of sugar mommies for trips to Ibiza and Moscow and Beijing.”

 “It was Tokyo,” Percy says, “and they weren’t my Sugar Mamas.” He turns to Annabeth, sheepish, but not actually shameful. “They weren’t. Honestly.”

 “Uh huh.”

 “They were mostly Kym’s friends, and sometimes we’d go out when they were in town, and if we had fun, they’d invite me wherever they were going next. And if I didn’t have to work, I’d go with.”

 “I have heard rumors,” Will says, popping his head in, Nico attached to his hip, “of Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous of Europe. Is it true?”

 “Yes,” Grover and Rachel say at once.

 “Do you want to hear about that, Will?” Percy asks, “Or would you rather hear about the summer Nico came to stay with me and Frank before he started college, and slept with every single dancer in Europe except Frank?”

 Nico waves him off. “Only because you were already sleeping with him, cause he was your sugar daddy. Not like I needed the money.”

 “It wasn’t like that.” Frank says.

 “And now that we’ve aired all of my dirty laundry,” says Percy, “I need to borrow Annabeth for a second.” Gently, but with force, he tugs her arm, his other hand around her waist, directing her where to go like she’s one of his dance partners. Usually, she minds--a lot. She’s not about to let anyone, let alone a man, tell her where to go--but, you know, it’s Percy. Alone time with him is never a bad thing.

 He pulls her into the hallway, shoving his hand into his pocket. “What’s up?” she asks.

 “So.” Mouth open, he pauses for a moment, just… looking at her. His eyes are soft, warm like the first day of spring.

 “What?”

 “Uh, nothing,” he shakes himself a little, pulling his hand out. “Sorry, I just--I know you said you didn’t want anyone making a big deal out of your birthday…”

 Oh, no. She braces herself for the worst.

 Uncurling his fingers, he reveals his present for her.

 “It’s… a pin?”

 “Yeah,” he smiles. “Remember when I took my sister to the Met a few weeks ago? They were having that thing on Egyptian jewelry? Well, of course we had to stop in the gift shop, and I saw this and just--you know, thought of you.”

 It is a pin--one of those lapel pins that more often than not are added to a collection usually displayed on a backpack. This pin is a silhouette she recognizes instantly: the Parthenon, its columns and angles rendered in sterling silver, little grooves dug into the metal in an approximation of the fluting.

 “Wow,” she breathes. “Thank you.”

 “It was nothing.” His ears are pink. “Happy birthday.”

 And then he hugs her.

 After a moment, she hugs him back.

 It’s amazing how she can have had sex with someone so many times, but feel so awkward giving them a hug.

 “I didn’t, um, tell anyone else,” he says, pulling back. His hands linger on her shoulders, thumb tapping at the base of her neck. “But, I kept meaning to give this to you, so, you know, now was as good a time as any, yeah?”

 “I love it,” she says, honestly. Which surprises her. “Thank you.”

 She slips it into her own pocket, not even minding the sharp corners.

 When they return, Nico has already cut into the cake. “You were taking too long,” he snips.

 It really is delicious. Much, much later, Percy sends her home with a sweet, soft kiss, and one of the last remaining slices, rather than staying for dinner.

 Percy is the kind of boy who goes to his mother’s for dinner every week. She had been invited, but also threatened with the promise of another cake, and his ten year old sister, who would “love to make you a present.”

 It sounded nice, but Annabeth knew when she wasn’t really wanted, and so she demurred, citing a need for some solo downtime.

 She hasn’t heard from Thalia in, like, four days, which meant she had probably gotten a short-term gig. (“You’re lucky, she’s had Jason paying for her phone the whole time you’ve known her. Before that, she was almost impossible to get ahold of.”) Piper would take her out to dinner tomorrow, “just because.” But they would both know it wasn’t true.

 So, to refresh and relax after a long, harrowing day of socializing, Annabeth goes home.

 Or at least to her apartment.

 It doesn’t have a doorman, or the views, or the room, like Nico’s place. Nor does it have any of the people, the energy, the joy. Her furniture doesn’t fill it up. The most appetizing thing in her kitchen are the granola bars Percy had made the week before, or maybe the brownies he made four days ago. She sets her to-go bag of cake and croissants down next to them, a smorgasboard of Percy’s culinary prowess.

 Despite the long hours, her clothes still smell a little like last night’s bar, and her skin has a faint patina of dried sex sweat, and smudged makeup.

 She doesn’t want to start leaving things at Percy’s place--don’t want him to get the wrong idea--but she also occasionally needs to be able to touch up her eyeliner. She’s either going to have to find a bag that isn’t embarrassing to carry, or surreptitiously shove some eyeliner and lipstick next to the condoms in Percy’s nightstand next time they have a sleepover. Or raid Nico’s bathroom.

 Regardless, she needs a wash something bad.

 As she scrubs down, she does her best to focus on the lemon scent of her body wash, and not Percy’s perfect form, dripping with water. She tries to visualize her last trip to Sephora, not blowing him under the hot water.

 It doesn’t really work, so she gets herself clean and gets herself off and considers just spending the rest of the day naked, in case the mood strikes her again. But it's only 5PM, and she doesn’t have Percy to cook her some dinner tonight, so she sucks it up and puts on some pants.

 When she had visited Boston for work a couple of months back, Alex had insisted on taking her shopping, complaining that her sister and her friend Mallory didn’t understand Versace quite like Annabeth did, and that Blitz sucked all the fun out of fashion, anyway. Then, she had bullied Annabeth into buying a set of sweats, claiming it was because of the Grecian patterns, but probably because she thought Annabeth in that much purple would be funny.

 But eventually, she had wheedled, cajoled, and threatened Annabeth into buying a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. After deciding to forgo a bra, because that is just one more area she has always fallen short in, she shoves on a School of Architecture underneath them. The crimson clashes terribly with the lavender and seafoam, but she kind of likes it. Piper would call it “artfully nauseating,” or something.

 Besides, no one is going to see her but her delivery guy. And if someone did see her, someone like Thalia or Percy, well, the clashing colors would be the least of her worries.

 She is folded into her couch, wedged into the corner, very much      not     looking up Paris Ballet clips from the past few years, trying to spot Percy in the background, when there is a knock on her door.

 Not for the first time, she curses her lack of doorman--and then frowns. Who even knows where she lives?

 Piper and Leo? Magnus and Alex?

 Has she already ordered food and just forgotten?

 Is memory loss a side effect of a SK-II mask no one had warned her about?

 Tentatively, she creeps towards the door, opening it slowly. If this were a horror movie, the door would creak open, revealing the villain cast in the shadows of the hallway, holding his weapon of choice.

 She sighs.

 The man is only a few inches taller than her, and dressed impeccably in a t-shirt and jeans that probably cost half a year of her rent-- a big critique coming from her, since she wears a month of her own rent as sweats. His blond hair is impeccably combed, his tennis shoes impeccably white, and his smile the most charming thing you can find this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

 “Happy birthday, girly,” he says, giving her an awkward, one-armed hug, trying to avoid getting any of her facemask on his shirt.

 “What are you doing here?”

 “It's your birthday,” he reminds her, holding up the bag. “I told you I’d stop by last week.”

 Had he? Maybe, and she’d just been too drunk or hung over to really process it. But maybe he’d also meant to, and then failed to follow through. Luke has a bit of a nasty habit of treating his intentions as the same as his actions. His intentions are good, usually, but it means that he often ignored the actual actions. Like how his intention was to support his mother in the best nursing home in the northeast, but his action was to work with Saturn, a very shady hedge fund, to facilitate it. Or how his intention was to have someone at a stuffy party to talk to, but his action was dressing up Annabeth as his arm candy because none of Piper’s models would call him back anymore. He hasn’t asked her to do that since, like, February though, thankfully.

 “Sorry,” Annabeth says. “I just… you know I don’t like my birthday.”

 He also has a bit of a habit of ignoring her distaste in a really blatant way.

 He’s a little like Percy that way, actually.

 She’d only ever told Luke about her birthday back in those embarrassing freshman days, when she’d thought he looked as good on paper as any Harvard MBA student possibly could, with a devastating smile to match. She’d been so convinced that he would be the right boyfriend that might finally get her mother’s approval, and she figured that her future husband should know her birthday.

 “Come in,” she says, reaching for the bag, but he shakes his head and brushes past her, dumping his black back on the coffee table. Graciously, he doesn’t look at her as he starts to empty out its contents, giving her an opportunity to dart back to her bathroom and peel off her facemask. Luke would forgive designer sweats, but they aren't at the “just chilling in a facemask” level of a relationship.

 When she returns, there is a small assembly line arranged on her coffee table: a stack of paper plates, a carton of Haagen Daas, forks and spoons, and a Milk Bar cake, all wrapped in its box.

 “Is Milk Bar still the ‘it’ thing?” she asks. “With locations all over the country, I figured it would be passé by now.”

 “I know it’s your favorite,” Luke says. “I don’t always have to choose the most popular thing.”

 Milk Bar had been her favorite, that is true, right up until she’d started fucking Percy Jackson, and eating his food.

 “Thanks,” she says, cutting herself a slice, and scooping herself some ice cream.

 “That’s all you’re going to get?” he asks, cutting himself a sliver.

 “I have had so much cake today,” she says. Milk Bar really isn’t as good as Percy's, but it reminds her of birthdays in high school, waiting for her mother to visit, sneaking out when she inevitably didn’t, convincing the local bad boy to buy her some alcohol. She eats it, eagerly.

 Luke’s jaw drops. “You had a birthday cake? By choice? On your birthday?”

 She shakes her head, swallowing. “No, I was at a party with some friends. They didn’t even know it was my birthday,” Until she had stupidly revealed it. Whatever. She just has to make sure he’s been excised from her life by this time next year. And maybe freeze some of his baked goods beforehand.

 Luke doesn’t let her go through with her evening plans, which consisted basically of watching      Legally Blonde     for the gazillionth time while she slurped down some pierogies, but he capitulates to      Roman Holiday    , helping her put away the leftover cake and ice cream. “Thanks,” she says, when the movie was done. “I’m glad you came over. “

 No one ever comes over. Thalia is her best friend, but Thalia would have questions about how she could afford the place, Piper never understood why she’d moved out here at all, and Percy… Percy was irrelevant. There is no reason for him to come here.

 “I always like to see my best girl.” He smiles at her, charming and rogueish.

 “If all those models you keep trying to date know that your best girl is an architect who lives in Brooklyn who you actually feed, that’s probably why they don’t want to date you back.”

 Luke laughs, leaning over and knocking his shoulder against her own. “None of those girls could hold a candle to you.”

 “God, you must be a terrible boyfriend.”

 “Probably,” he agrees, sitting up and stretching, before reaching back to the bag he brought the cake in. “After all, you are the one I bring all the nice presents. But I think I’m a pretty good friend.”

 He takes out a box, burnt orange, a black ribbon wrapped around it, because Luke is nothing if not predictable.

 Annabeth sighs internally, quietly reminding herself that money is how Luke shows his love. And that she is wearing Versace sweats.

 “Herm  é  s,” she says, pulling off the ribbon. “This box looks too small for a Birkin.”

 “Do you want a Birkin?” he asks. “I can get you a Birkin.”

 “I probably don’t need a Birkin,” she admits. Though maybe it would be nice to have one in her closet, if her mom ever calls her up for lunch again. She could show up with a Birkin and an eyebrow ring. Sweet revenge.

 Luke waves a hand. “It doesn't matter if you need one, just if you want one.”

 Inside the box is a scarf, the silk soft and smooth between her fingers, a pleasing gradient of oranges and reds and pinks and corals. When she unfolds it, laying it out before her, she finds a sharp, geometric design, columns stacked together like skyscrapers. Luke obviously had her in mind when he picked it out.

 “Thanks,” she says. It’s pretty--perfect for an ambitious young architect with two degrees from Harvard who had moved to New York City with an offer from one of the best architecture firms in the world. And Annabeth has no idea where she could possibly want or need to wear it.

 “Hey,” Luke says, suddenly soft, “don’t cry.”

 Shocked, she reaches her hand up to her face. It’s wet.

 Luke is probably the only person she will let herself cry in front of. She’d spent three years doing that in college. He’d seen her through heartbreak and hangovers, guiding her through it all like an aloof big brother.

 “I’m okay,” she hiccups, wiping her nose.

 He hands her a napkin.

 Annabeth blows her nose, wet and gross. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m alright.”

 “You sure?” He sounds sincere, but she catches him glancing down at his wrist.

 “Do you have a date?”

 “I…” At least he has the decency to look sheepish. “Just some guys at work. You can come, if you want.”

 It could be fun. Hanging out with Luke can be fun. Get a little lit, take a business bro home, screw his brains out, send him on his way. But there’s an unspoken dress code to these things, and Annabeth just doesn’t wear Louboutins anymore. And the idea of fucking a business bro just… doesn’t hold any appeal right now.

 “No thanks,” she nods, using the clean edge of the napkin to wipe her eyes. “I am going to watch      The Search For Elle Woods    , and you're going to strike out with some models, and everyone is going to be happy.”

 “You really are so mean to me.” Luke complains, as she walks him to the door, before giving her another hug. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

 “I am.” She is different and new, but Luke is still her friend. She had survived. It would be okay.

 “Well, call me if you need something.” He kisses her cheek, sweetly, without any heat. Perfectly platonic. “I love you very much. Happy birthday.”

 “Thanks,” she says, “I’ll see you around.”

 “Always.” And he is gone.

 She folds the scarf, going to put it in the dresser in her room, shoving it among a handful of accessories, gathering dust. She realizes, with a start, that she’s left a week’s worth of clothes all over her room on the way to the shower, and, with a sigh of adulthood, and the knowledge that if she doesn’t follow the ADHD gods and pick them up now, they’ll be there for weeks, languishing on her floor and stinking up the place, she goes to at least move them into her hamper. She rifles through ripped jeans and band t-shirts and black socks as she goes, checking each for anything like discarded change or a bus pass she doesn’t want to wash.

 She shakes out the pants she’d worn out the night before, and therefore the entire day until she’d gotten home. There is a rather unfortunate stain on the knee that she can’t quite parse--ketchup? Chocolate?

 Then she reaches into the pockets, touching metal, and she suddenly remembers her other birthday present for the day.

 Pulling out the pin, she feels strange, hot in the face, funny in the belly, tossing the jeans haphazardly in with the dirty laundry. It's small and shiny, cheap metal for mass market production, and yet, she walks it over to the dresser, laying it down on the silk scarf like it's the diamond broach her aunt gave her for her sixteenth birthday.

 She really is beyond Hermès scarves now. But that pin? Well, you never really can get more Annabeth--the middle school know-it-all, teenage debutante, college perfectionist, New York yuppy, or barfly and punk princess--than one of the greatest architectural achievements in human history.

 She is still a little shocked by how much she loves it. How much it means to her that Percy saw that it was perfect for her.

 And like so many times when she is confronted with an emotion she doesn’t like, she slams the door closed, and goes and watches a favorite movie from high school.

 She does order dinner, eventually, setting out her meal in between texting Piper about brunch tomorrow. It's a whole thing, pretending that they’re not going out for her birthday, but eventually they agree on a time and a place, and she can eat her sausage and watch everyone practice the Bend and Snap in peace.  

 So she is very annoyed when her phone buzzes again.

 Maybe the reservation fell through. Or maybe she doesn’t want Annabeth to show up in ripped fishnets, even though that only happened once.

 Her stomach sinks when she checks her phone. It isn’t Piper.

Hello Dear, Happy Birthday. We miss you. Please call anytime. Love Dad, Mary, and the boys.  

 Below the text is a link, leading to a gift certificate for $200 to Sephora, which has Mary’s name written all over it. Aunt Natalie would have suggested Bergdorf Goodman.

 Her hand clenches, momentarily overcome with the urge to hurl her phone against the wall. But there is no one around, so there wouldn’t be any point to it.

 She stabs at a pierogi with a chopstick, and watches the girls dance on screen, humming along.

 She passes out on the couch after midnight.

 Her mother never called.

[belettewrites]

Some mountains and a dog part 4

previous | next | masterpost | AO3

cw: animal death mentioned

It was just before midday; they had been on the road for three yours, Jaskier on Roach and Geralt leading him. He had started doing that more, after the mountain. To show Jaskier that he was cared for; that Geralt hadn’t meant it, but did mean what he had said about wanting to apologize. And it was nice to see Jaskier on Roach, next to his and Geralt’s bags, as if he belonged with him.

Geralt had no doubt about Jaskier belonging with anyone; the bard was a mage, after all, and his own person, and was as free as a bird. He felt blessed to have Jaskier by his side – that Jaskier had been by his side for twenty years, and had chosen to stay there even when things had become shitty. Well, shittier. He had stayed when Geralt ran to find Ciri, he had stayed when it turned out that Ciri had powers, he had stayed to wait for Yennefer when it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to help much.

He had stayed and was still there, by Geralt’s side, cheeks sun-kissed and hair ruffled by the wind, laughing a laugh that was only meant for Geralt.

“Geralt!,” Jaskier suddenly gasped, turning him away from his thoughts, “Look, a dog!”

He smiled. Jaskier did this every time they came across a dog. “Geralt! Look at its tiny paws!” he would say, and Geralt would hum; “Geralt! Look at how soft it looks!” he would cry out in delight, and Geralt would hum. “Jaskier, look over there, the dog,” Geralt had said once, and Jaskier had taken his hand and squeezed it briefly before letting it go, a smile brightening his face.

“Don't approach it,” Geralt warned, “it's a shepherd dog and its job is to protect the flock. Don't want it to think you're a threat.”

Though Jaskier, even smelling magic like he always had ever since he had revealed his true nature to Geralt, didn't seem like much of a threat. But Jaskier’s safety was not something Geralt wanted to play with, so he looked over at the dog to make sure he wasn’t being threatening.

The dog had seen them and was watching them distrustfully. Especially Geralt; he was used to it, cats always hissing at him, but dogs usually were nicer. Though this one had to protect something, and there was nothing more dangerous than a dog with instincts telling him to protect something.

Geralt had once seen a dog turning on his own owner because the man was yelling quite angrily at his child, who looked close to tears. The dog, a big dog with long black fur, had growled, stepping between them. The child, unaware of what was happening, had hugged it, but their father had turned pale and after glancing down, had gone away quickly. Seemingly satisfied, the dog had licked the child’s hands, and Geralt had turned away, not forgetting how far the dog was ready to go to protect what was under its care.

So he was more than relieved when a voice called out:

“Charcoal! What are you looking at, you doof- oh!”

Jaskier dismounted Roach and straightened up, ready to defend Geralt against any prejudices.

But there was no need; the woman, when she saw them, smiled and waved her hand to say hello, the dog staying close to her, almost making her trip over it. It was almost weird, seeing another person here, when it had only been him and Jaskier for the last few days; how easy it had been, to forget about the rest of the world.

Jaskier waved back, seemingly unbothered by the sight of another human here, and Geralt relaxed as the dog turned its attention away from them. It was a big dog. "Fluffy" Jaskier would say, fur white and gray and black, its head bigger than Geralt's hand. It looked young; still in training, then.

The woman walked closer to them. She wasn't tall, but wasn't small either; red hair falling on her shoulders, freckles on her cheeks and nose. She looked – pretty, the kind of person Jaskier would have spent the night with years ago. Though he had stopped doing that well before Ciri; after his performances he would always come back to Geralt, smiling softly at him and stealing his ale. It warmed Geralt more than he could say.

“Excuse him,” the woman said, still smiling, “he thinks anyone that isn't me or my wife is a threat, but he’s a sweetheart.”

“It's nothing,” Jaskier replied, “I had a dog a bit like him when I was younger. Great with children, though you should've seen how he reacted when someone that wasn't us walked by.”

The woman laughed.

“Well, let me say, it is nice to meet other souls up here. I'm Violet.” she added with a smile.

Then she hesitated, glancing at Jaskier then turning her attention back to Geralt, and to his swords.

“Say, I don't want to sound rude, but- what are you doing here? I mean, there's no one here but me and my wife, and the occasional traveler. We have a beast that steals the sheep, but apart from that, I don't think it's the kind of place you'd expect to find lots of contracts. Or a court to play in,” she added after glancing at Jaskier's lute case.

“Geralt needed some holidays,” Jaskier replied at the same time Geralt said “Jaskier wanted to see the mountains.”

“What?” Geralt blurted out, freezing.

Jaskier turned to him, a soft look in his eyes. Violet watched them without saying anything, an amused smile on her lips.

“Geralt, you spent the whole winter being a teacher to- Fiona, and before that you spent the whole year hunting monsters and saving humanity. You deserved a break. Though, frankly, I didn't expect you to agree so easily.”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier didn’t know that he would agree to anything he would ask, though he was sure the other man was already aware of that, to some extent. Jaskier laughed, gently took his arm, and faced the woman again.

“See? The things I have to do?”

“My wife’s the same. I swear, she wouldn’t rest if I wasn’t there to remind her,” she smiled before adding, “Lila – my wife – and I are taking care of a sort of refuge for travelers, like you; eat lunch with us, and we'll see if we can ready a room for you, so you won't have to worry about sleeping in the woods tonight.”

“It's fine,” Jaskier started, “we-”

“You shouldn't,” the woman insisted, “there's something lurking around at night – it has killed two sheep already, and our old dog too, it- it wasn't pretty to see. My wife had to put an end to his misery, it was – rough.”

The pain was evident in her eyes, reflecting the loss of a life companion. Geralt saw Jaskier put his hand on Roach’s muzzle.

“So when you said there was no contract here-” Geralt tried to ask.

“Ah, well. It's just that, I'm afraid we don't have much coin to offer you, sir witcher. A beast, but no contracts,” she shrugged, though he could see she was tired.

Jaskier took his hand and squeezed it; Geralt tried very hard not to feel too warm at that, and hummed. His bard smiled knowingly.

“I'll take care of the beast,” Geralt said, “in exchange for lunch, and ale for my bard, if you have some.”

Violet smiled at them, a bit unsure but grateful nonetheless.

“Follow me, it’s not that far.”

She then started walking and they followed, still staying close to each other.

“I think we may have some goat cheese left,” Violet said, still in front of them, expertly avoiding stepping on unsteady rocks. “My wife makes them and they’re delicious – and I swear I’m not biased!”

Jaskier replied something; what, Geralt didn’t know. He let him carry the conversation like he always did, smiling and winking and actually caring about what was being said to him. Geralt was just happy to be there, Jaskier next to him. Happy to be known, too – he did need to take a break, after spending the whole winter teaching Ciri, and the beginning of spring fighting monsters. He would take care of Violet and her wife’s problem, they’d spend the night here, and they would go on the day after, pleased to be in each other's company. Maybe the life of a witcher could be sunny, too, sometimes.

***

“Honey? I found travelers that haven’t tasted your fine goat cheese yet!” Violet called out, a grin on her face as she opened the door of her house, the bells that were hung on it happily tinkling.

They had walked for ten minutes on a dusty road after finding Violet, the dog Charcoal running back and forth around them, always going back to her but lingering around Geralt in hope that he would pet him.

Jaskier knew that Geralt had a sweet spot for animals even if they didn’t always return it; he could think of at least three different occurrences where Geralt had looked absolutely dumbstruck when a dog had made its way to him before standing on his hind legs to beg for pets. On one occasion, a cat had made its way to their table when they were sitting in a tavern, and Jaskier would never forget how Geralt’s face had softened when the cat had allowed him to pet it.

Jaskier hid a smile when Geralt removed one of his gloves to pet the dog, who wagged his tail in obvious joy. Fuck, but bringing Geralt here had been a wonderful idea.

They were now waiting outside an admittedly pretty good-looking house, made out of dark stones that once must have been part of the volcanoes around them. The wood shutters looked old, but it seemed like someone had been carefully treating the wood with oil that would make it last longer, and it was overall obvious that the house was very well cared for – that it was not only a house, but also a home. Small, little violet flowers that Jaskier recognized as crocuses were growing under the windows, and it was absurd how much it made the place look welcoming and happy, as if an artist had put their brush here, adding a soft touch of color to an almost dark painting.

Jaskier was putting weight on his right leg since his left knee was still hurting him a bit – the bruise had gone from deep blue to pale yellow, but he avoided using that leg as much as he could, hoping that Geralt wouldn’t notice – though he had obviously failed at that, as Geralt had forced him to ride Roach earlier. It was something they did, now, Jaskier pretending that he didn’t want to ride and Geralt sighing fondly before helping him climb on the saddle.

“I’m surprised you even agreed to share it, honey,” a woman replied, short brown hair tied back by a black bandanna. She was almost tackled by Charcoal who in his joy to see her again had jumped on her. “Hold on, you doof, we’ve seen each other this morning.”

Violet was laughing again, and Jaskier smiled; it was good, to see people happy. It was good to see them with Geralt by his side, to let Geralt see that you could work but still let yourself be happy.

“Lila, this is Jaskier the bard,” Violet said, “and Sir Geralt. They’re quite famous, did you know? Sir Geralt said he’d take care of the thing that’s taking our sheep if we let him and his bard have lunch with us.”

Lila looked at them, squinting her eyes to see them better. Jaskier smiled at her, and Geralt – well, Geralt did his best, Jaskier assumed.

“Come on in, then,” she finally replied, “we wouldn’t want the stew to grow cold.”

***

The inside of the house was quite simple, but still showed that this place was a safe haven for both Violet and her wife and the travelers that apparently sometimes passed by.

“We’re not officially a refuge,” Lila explained as Jaskier helped her dress the table, “we just welcome people and offer them a room for the night – especially in winter, when it gets particularly cold outside.”

Jaskier nodded without replying anything. Lila seemed surlier than her wife but she still was a kind soul, ready to help. She reminded him of Geralt, in a way.

The room was nice; it was large, the windows letting the sun pour its light inside, brightening the place and making the floating dust look like sparks. There were plants hanging from the ceiling, and Jaskier saw that Geralt took a moment to admire them. It was strange, to see a house where a special thought had been put into the decoration – the places they were staying at usually didn’t care much for that kind of thing, and Kaer Morhen was more about practicality before beauty.

At the center of the room was a wooden table surrounded by two benches, one on which Geralt was sitting, listening to Violet who was animatedly talking, a dish towel in her hands, the dog sitting at her feet. Jaskier let his mind wander as he set down the pitcher full of wine but was brought back by the mention of his name in Violet and Geralt’s conversation.

“Jaskier and you, do I need to prepare two rooms? We have enough of them, it wouldn’t bother us.”

He tensed, but still pretended that he wasn’t listening. It would be weird, not sleeping next to Geralt after all these years – even at Kaer Morhen they had shared a room, Geralt not quite ready to let him go after barely escaping Nilfgaard and Jaskier needing the proximity of his witcher to be able to fall asleep. And they shared all the time on the path, to share warmth and to save coin.

But there were no threats here, no need to save their coin, and so Jaskier prepared himself for a sleepless night. It would be fine, not reading to Geralt, not braiding his hair before going to bed – it would be fine.

“Just one room will be enough,” Geralt replied, and Jaskier almost dropped the glasses he was about to put on the table. Well, that – that was nice. Maybe Geralt needed him close to be able to sleep, too.

Jaskier glanced up and met Lila’s eyes; she raised an eyebrow at him, clearly aware of his inner turmoil.

“Lunch is ready,” she announced instead of saying whatever it was that she had been thinking about Jaskier and his… feelings… for his traveling companion.

They took place on the benches, Jaskier and Geralt facing each other. Lila served the stew, and Geralt took Jaskier’s plate wordlessly, taking the carrots out of it and then giving it back to him. Jaskier smiled at his friend, and Geralt shrugged as if it were normal. Which it was, had been ever since Jaskier had said twenty years ago that he didn’t like carrots.

“So this beast,” Jaskier started, munching on his stew, “what does it do, exactly?”

Violet and Lila exchanged a glance, and Lila put her fork down, drinking a bit of wine before answering. Geralt had not stopped eating, though Jaskier had seen him discreetly hand Charcoal a piece of bread.

“It- takes the sheep,” Lila started, “and nothing else. Happens only at night, though, and Violet wanted to stay up but I told her that I’d rather not lose her to that thing. What are a few sheep next to my wife?”

Violet had blushed a little, but was fondly looking at her wife.

“There were footprints,” Lila went on, “but not ones that I could identify. Like, they look like ones of a wolf, but – they weren’t, not really.”

They all fell into a contemplative silence only broken by Charcoal’s loud breathing. Geralt slipped him another piece of bread, and Jaskier bit his cheek to prevent himself from telling him that he was teaching that dog terrible manners by rewarding him like that.

“How often does it happen?” Geralt asked, acting as if the big dog wasn’t lovingly staring up at him, hoping for more food.

“We don’t know,” Violet replied, her voice soft, “some weeks nothing happens, and then the next we lose two sheep and our dog.”

She looked up at Geralt, and Jaskier was stricken by the acceptance on her face.

“You said you would go and take a look, Sir Geralt, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll find it. But that would be okay – it hasn’t attacked us, and we know better than to go out during the night. And – you being willing to go already is – well, it’s-”

“What my wife is trying to say,” Lila cut in when it became obvious that Violet didn’t know how to end her sentence, “is that we’re already grateful that you would try to take care of it, and that even if you didn’t find anything, we would be okay. We’ve survived so far.”

Geralt nodded, and Jaskier found himself thinking about a song about two lovers, facing what Destiny was making them face, getting hurt and injured but always having each other and always going on –

Then he realized that it sounded a bit too much like him and Geralt, if him and Geralt had been lovers, and his ears grew hot.

“I’ll still go and see what I can do,” Geralt replied. “I’ll go tomorrow night.”

Lila nodded, and Violet smiled again.

“Now,” Violet started, “I was wondering, Jaskier, if you would be okay with playing something tonight?”

It had been a while since he had played for other people- well, okay, maybe not that long, but still. Playing for himself was okay, playing for Geralt was more than nice, but playing for other people? That was what had made Jaskier start to play, first for his sister who loved music but couldn’t sneak out to listen to music she actually liked like he could, then for bigger crowds. It wasn’t about being loved by his public, it was about people loving what they were hearing and forgetting about life for a while.

“Of course,” he smiled, “I’d be more than happy to.”

“He sings well,” Geralt said, and Jaskier blinked at him before feeling his face warming up.

“Why thank you, darling,” he managed to reply before turning to Lila. “Need help with something this afternoon?”

Lila looked at him with the same knowing look in her brown eyes that she had had earlier, and shrugged.

“Not particularly. Tomorrow, though?”

He grinned at her.

“I look forward to it. Now, tell me, I was promised a very fine cheese, made by the most talented cheese maker of the continent – her words,” he added while gesturing towards Violet, “not mine.”

Violet laughed and Lila stood up.

“I’ll go fetch it, it’s good with bread. If you haven’t fed it to the dog,” she added while glancing at Geralt, who froze on the bench. Jaskier burst out laughing, but still took his own piece of bread and broke it in half.

“Here, dear heart, take half of mine,” he managed to say, shoulders still shaken by his laughter.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, which only made Jaskier laugh harder, losing himself in the mirth of Geralt’s golden eyes.

[spaceskam]

devil, won’t you bargain with me?

for day 4 of @alexmanesappreciation : behind enemy lines (again, taking a lot of liberties)

warning: sexual content, this is literally about assassins so all the fun stuff that goes with that

ao3

Alex Manes learned at a depressingly young age how to use this good looks as a weapon.

He had 10 years of his life that were relatively normal before he was sent to a boarding school. Only, it wasn’t your average boarding school. It was where children of people who knew things were sent so they could grow up to know things. It was where he was taught to spot an alien from simply the look of their eyes or the way to air moved wrong around them. It was where he was learned how to kill in effective ways. It was where he learned to gain the aliens trust so he could kill them and call a clean up crew to obtain anything extraterrestrial before the small town police got there. It was where he learned that seduction was his most successful tactic.

His father didn’t exactly approve of the fact that that was how Alex got around, but even he couldn’t deny how easily Alex climbed the ranks. He was well known for how good he was at not only charming aliens, but killing them. The killing had nothing to do with seduction. He was a skilled fighter and that was undeniable as well. Hell, even at just 23, he was teaching a class on combat.

Most aliens were the same, truthfully. There were a handful of different species, all wearing skin suits and dangerous. They preyed on humans and infiltrated on their space and lives. Alex was just one of the hundreds of people who were trained to fix that.

On this particular night, however, Alex hadn’t intended to be the alien assassin hunting the enemy. Instead, he was looking for a little bit of casual human interaction and heavy petting before he had to go back to his job. But he had been trained and no matter how much he wanted to relax at the bar with free drinks from strangers who wanted to take him home, he couldn’t unsee the way the air around a man who made his way to the bar moved. 

He seemed to be going in slow motion and the air around him made way for his body. The alien had probably one of the most gorgeous skin-suits Alex had ever seen with horrifically attractive features and gorgeous hair and kind eyes and tanned skin. Alex almost regretted the fact that he’d seen the way the way the air around him rejected him. He would’ve been a nice face to look at for the nice.

But then Alex realized nothing was actually stopping him from doing both.

Alex turned to the man as he stepped up to the bar, giving him the most seductive look he could manage and asked his name. The guy seemed to almost instantly get a little flustered from the attention and Alex was more than a little thankful that this would be easy. He hated having to try when he wasn’t technically on the job.

The alien said his name was Michael and he let Alex buy him a drink under the condition that he could buy Alex a drink. It seemed like a fair trade.

They sat close on the bar and Alex slowly started touching him on his hands and his hair. When he was sure he was comfortable with that, he moved his hands to other places. His back, his thigh, his neck. He seemed to fold into each touch and he stared at Alex like he was mesmerized by his existence.

One of the things Alex was taught was that some species have a very particular draw. It works on some, doesn’t work on others. Alex had never experienced it before, but he knew himself well enough to spot it when he felt it. Staring at this alien felt... It felt like he was meant to be there, like the stars aligned for them.

All the books and all his superiors said that, in cases like that, the human should exit the situation and call a different assassin to take care of it. That was the best way to go about it for everyone’s safety. But Alex wasn’t stupid. His mind wasn’t clouded by this little fact, it just meant the sex would be a lot more interesting before the kill.

“How do you feel about taking me home?” Alex asked, tilting his head just a little as he dragged his fingertips down the side of his neck and over his collarbone. Michael gulped.

“Like it would be a fucking sin to say no.”

Alex smiled and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss just to make sure he’d actually be getting something out of it. It was soft and slow and breathtaking and for the first time in his entire life, Alex felt his guard slipping. That was a red flag and he should’ve stopped, he should’ve called someone else to take care of this, he should’ve politely stepped away to collect himself.

But he didn’t want to collect himself and he didn’t want someone else to take his place.

He pulled away and looked at this alien who he would have to kill before sunrise and almost felt sad. The alien, Michael, looked a little dazed and blissfully ignorant as he smiled at him. He had a pretty smile. His eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks were red and he was so cute. It almost didn’t even look like a human suit. It looked so real, like it was his own face. Were their aliens who looked human naturally? Was he even an alien at all? 

Alex slid his fingers into his hair and pulled him in for another kiss just to make sure the first one wasn’t a fluke. It wasn’t. His heart felt like it was going to slam out of his chest. Kissing him, this alien, after only knowing him for less than an hour somehow felt like coming home. He was comfortable against his lips and welcome in his hands.

That was not mentioned in any of his textbooks.

“C’mon,” Michael said, grabbing his hand and tugging him off the bar stool. Alex found himself smiling as he was tugged outside and to a motorcycle that was parked in a line of motorcycles. Michael gave him a sweet little smile as he put the extra helmet on his head carefully, his hands sliding over Alex’s biceps once it was on securely. Then he put on his own.

Alex climbed on the back of his bike, wrapping his arms around his body. Logically, he shouldn’t trust some strange alien on a motorcycle just so he could get laid, but something about him made him feel particularly reckless. He kept forgetting what he was meant to be doing; he enjoyed his presence so much.

And it only got better.

They got to an apartment complex and Alex was nearly overwhelmed with happiness as they both pulled off their helmets. He couldn’t stop smiling and it was hurting his cheeks. He wasn’t used to smiling this much. Or at all.

Michael quickly pocketed his key and grabbed Alex’s hand, leading him up the set of stairs of one of the buildings. Alex had already made so many mistakes. He didn’t know the address, he didn’t know the last name the alien lived under, he didn’t even pay attention to which apartment he lived in. He was so stupid and reckless and would get in so much trouble when he called the clean up crew, but it was all worth it when Michael tossed both the helmets onto the couch of the small little studio and pulled him by the hand for a kiss.

It was just as nice as it was in the bar, maybe even nicer. There were no extra eyes. Michael held his hands for a moment before letting them go to hold onto his waist, smiling through each and every kiss even as he deepened it. The whole thing felt like Alex was a teenager and this was his first time with a boy he really, really liked. Which obviously wasn’t true.

But the more he thought about it, he couldn’t remember his actual first time. He’d started using it all as a kill tactic when he was so young and first learning about his sexuality that it all seemed to blur. His one night stands with men in the back of a club were just as meaningless as the aliens he let take him home before he killed them with their own possessions. Hell, he was sure he’d kissed more aliens than humans at this point. It was all nothing; he was just going through the motions.

Except for right now.

“Take this off,” Michael whispered, grinning wildly as he broke the kiss just to help Alex take his shirt off. Michael’s had already been discarded and he looked more real than Alex knew what to do with. He was all chest hair and soft skin and toned muscles. 

Michael came back in for another kiss after the barrier of shirts were out of the way, pressing their chests together. He held Alex’s face in his hands and breathed him in as he kissed him. Alex felt precious and fragile for the first time all at once. All because of the way this man decided to hold him. Did he hold everyone like that? Was Alex special?

God, he wanted to be special.

Michael gently backed him against the wall for leverage more than anything. He pulled away and flashed the sweetest smile that had ever existed and then pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He slowly started kissing down his chest, crouching in the most awkward way to do so. Alex laughed when he almost fell just so he could try to get a good angle to kiss over his nipple. He just smiled all wide and charming as he settled on his knees.

Alex couldn’t help but stare at down him while his hands roamed over his chest and his back. It was all slow and methodical. Michael’s eyes fell closed as he kissed beneath his belly button and his eyelashes tickles Alex’s stomach, his hands sliding from his back over his hips and down to unbutton his jeans. Alex was being worshiped. He couldn’t laugh anymore. In fact, part of him wanted to cry.

Was that how this was supposed to feel? Was he supposed to feel so connected and so important to the person he was with? Was this just an alien thing? And, if it was an alien thing, why was it bad? What was so wrong about feeling so right?

Alex tilted his head against the wall, letting himself get lost in the feeling as Michael went down on him. He was really good at it. That being said, Alex rarely let himself ever enjoy things so maybe he was average. It didn’t matter. For once, Alex wasn’t taking in his surroundings to find what would be the most efficient murder weapon. He was just having fucking fun.

Michael pulled away from him before he could finish and kissed the side of his thigh. He looked up at Alex, waiting for directions on what he wanted next. Alex didn’t have to even think, surging down to kiss him again. Michael smiled against his lips and wrapped his arms around him to guide him onto the floor without hurting either of them. 

“We could go to my bed?” Michael suggested in the midst of Alex shoving his hand down his jeans. 

“We could,” Alex said, leaning for a kiss, “Or you could let me touch you here and I’ll fuck you there.”

Michael didn’t need much time to agree.

Alex let himself get lost in this man. No matter how much touching and kissing and fucking they did, Michael felt human. Typically, most species of aliens that wore human suits had something about them that was obviously not human. Not this one. He was all man. Alex didn’t know how to handle himself.

They got each other off with nothing but their hands and mouths on the floor and laid there for awhile before going to the bed. Typically, Alex would want to clean off afterwards because he always felt a bit gross. Not tonight. Tonight, they kissed lazily in bed for awhile until they felt back to normal and things heated up again. Michael only seemed to smile wide when Alex’s hands went to his ass and he quickly reached for a condom and lube.

The night seemed endless in the best way. This was the first night in Alex’s life that he’d felt so eager for it to last forever. Michael had blackout curtains and it protected him from seeing the state of the sun. He was thankful. He was pretty convinced that, if he saw his time dwindling, he would’ve gotten more upset than made rational sense.

After they finished for a second time that night and cleaned themselves off haphazardly, Michael pulled him into his arms and just... held him. Again, all new. Alex didn’t get held. Even as a child, he was raised to be a soldier who doubled as a cold-blooded assassin. He went to school to master that. He never let any regular fuck be in a place where cuddling was possible and he never went far enough with any other alien to make that an option before he killed them. And then this pretty alien decided to just hold him.

And it was awkward at first. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with his body. Michael didn’t say anything or even laugh, he just helped maneuver him in a way that made sense. Alex’s head on his chest, Michael’s hand resting on his side, Alex’s leg draped over his hips, Michael’s head leaning against his. Yeah, it was a little awkward. But then it wasn’t awkward. Then it just became impossible to think of moving.

So he didn’t.

“Is it weird if I say I feel like I know you?” Michael asked, his fingertips drawing circles on his hip, “Like... I know I don’t. I barely know anything about you. But...”

“I know what you mean,” Alex said and he meant it. He hated that he meant it, but he did. Soon, though, his blissed out mind would have to take a backseat to the part of him that knew Michael couldn’t leave this room alive. He was dangerous. Even if he felt like the safest place Alex had ever been, he was dangerous. So Alex just had to soak up this feeling like while could.

Michael relaxed at the confirmation that he wasn’t alone in feeling this weird connection. It didn’t make sense how two strangers from two planets just... fit. But they did.

“What’s your favorite color?” Michael asked. A smile slowly spread on Alex’s face.

“What?”

“What’s your favorite color?” Michael repeated, “C’mon, I wanna know the guy who I feel like I already know.”

Alex’s heart felt full and he turned his head a little to press a kiss to his chest. His skin was warm, much warmer than any other skin suit he’d touched. Maybe that’s why he felt so comforting. If Alex hadn’t been painfully aware of how wrong the air around him acted all night, he would’ve thought maybe he’d gotten it wrong and this was just a guy. But it wasn’t. He was an alien.

“I don’t have a favorite color,” Alex admitted.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, voice light and playful as he gave Alex a little squeeze, “Everyone has a favorite color.”

“Not me,” Alex said, tilting his head up to look at him. Still gorgeous. “I went to a really strict military boarding school my whole life. I wasn’t really allowed to have favorite colors.”

Michael took a deep breath and looked at him, pressing the softest kiss to Alex’s nose. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he had butterflies in his stomach.

“I think you would look really good in blue,” Michael said, “Or, like, black and white. Basic colors so nothing’s taking away from how beautiful you are, just complimenting it.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Oh, God, yeah, have you looked in a mirror? I could fill a whole gallery of pictures of you,” Michael told him, his hand reaching up to glide over Alex’s nose and his cheekbone. Alex couldn’t stop staring at him. “Stick around and maybe I could?”

“What, are you an amateur photographer?” Alex joked, hoping to make it feel less like a weight was crushing his chest.

“Wouldn’t say amateur,” Michael said, “Been published a few times, run a pretty successful blog, teach a class on it at the community center.”

Alex was now staring at him for a whole new reason.

This man was definitely an alien, he knew it. But most aliens flew under the radar. They worked seedy jobs and only associated with people who would keep quiet when they went missing or were killed unexpectedly. Never had he encountered one who was not only trying to make a name for himself, but had. When he killed him, people might ask questions. People might ask him questions.

Alex was trained and skilled at combat and lying and seduction. He’d been interrogated and tortured and he never broke. He could out-lie a polygraph and he was make anyone believe whatever he wanted. But could he keep up the facade when it was a guy he liked so much?

Alex couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get it over with. He moved up to kiss him again, moving them until Michael was on his back and Alex was sitting on his stomach. He was holding himself up to keep from putting too much weight, to keep up his unassuming act.

He broke the kiss and started touching him everywhere. Through his hair, behind his ears, under his chin, his armpits. Michael squirmed, giggling softly. Why was he so cute? Why did he have to make this so hard?

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for the human suit zipper."

Michael froze, his laughter ceasing and his eyes going a little wide. He quickly tried to cover it up by forcing himself to relax, but he was clearly still on edge and Alex held eye contact.

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked, trying to keep his voice light. But it made it impossibly easy for Alex to grab his hands and pin them down with force.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. What species are you? Where do you come from?” Alex asked, putting his full weight on him. Fear slowly bled into Michael’s eyes and he hated it. “I mean, it’s fine if you don’t tell me, but it makes my paperwork a lot harder.”

“Paperwork?” Michael asked, voice squeaking. He was utterly helpless, Alex noticed, he didn’t even try to fight against him or look for something to use as a weapon to protect himself.

“You still didn’t tell me where the zipper was.”

“There’s no zipper, Alex,” he said, quickly following it up with the world’s softest, “Hey.” He chased Alex’s line of sight, giving him that sweet smile despite the complete and utter terror in his eyes. “What happened? We were good, right? We were having fun.”

His voice was so kind, but it barely even sounded like manipulation. Despite the fact that he was trying to keep himself safe by saying it, he wasn’t lying. They were good. They’d been so good. Too good.

“You’re an alien,” Alex said blatantly, ignoring him, “So tell me where the zipper is.” They were harder to kill when they were in the suit and the bodies were much harder to replace with dummies when they refused to leave.

“Okay, I’m an alien, you’re not wrong,” Michael agreed, nodding softly. He gently tried to push against Alex’s hold on him, but Alex didn’t budge and he didn’t fight it. “But I’m not wearing a suit. This is my body, I promise. You literally just spent the last three hours touching me everywhere, you know that this is my body.”

“What?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t believe that. I’ve never seen an alien that looks like us.”

“Well just ‘cause you’ve never seen it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Michael explained, again forcing that sweet smile, “My mother sent me here because she thought it was safe because we look like you. I promise. The reason you’ve probably never seen it is because there’s less than five of my people still alive in the entire galaxy. A-and two of them are half-human.”

Alex’s grip let up. “Less than five?”

“My planet got destroyed due to a civil war and I was sent here for safety with my siblings when we were babies. I was raised by humans, I only know humans. I swear to you, I’m not a threat. So, please. Please, Alex,” Michael said, “I’m not a threat.”

“I’m supposed to kill you,” Alex said, “I was trained to kill you.” So why didn’t he want to?

“I know,” Michael said, nodding, “But I swear I’m not a threat.”

Against his better judgment, Alex released his hands, but he stayed sitting on him just in case. Michael rubbed his wrists and gave him a smile.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m still not sure I believe you,” he said, “I was taught you were all bad.”

“Well, let me prove to you that we’re not,” Michael suggested. Alex eyed him suspiciously. 

“I just tried to kill you and you want to prove to me that you’re good?” Alex clarified. It sounded like a trap. Michael shrugged slightly.

“You didn’t try to kill me yet, you just got a little rough,” he said. Alex shook his head. Then he felt some outside force on him, gently making him get off Michael. Alex stared at him with wild eyes. “I know you’re all big and scary, but I think you can be cuddly too.”

“What the fuck,” Alex breathed, still mesmerized by the force that still seemed to be around him. It was like it was caressing him, holding him, keeping swaddled like a child. It was confusing. It had Alex questioning everything he knew about aliens. Did the air around them move like that because they wanted it to?

“Alex,” Michael said, giving him a smile as the force slowly faded and left Alex wanting something to replace the warmth around him, “I could teach you so much. You don’t have to be all closed off and angry and, like, murder-y. I promise.”

“Why the hell would I listen to you over my entire school and everyone I’ve ever known?” Alex asked. But he was already listening.

Michael flashed a big, warm smile and carefully reached out to place his hand on his jaw. Alex’s instinct was to move away from the touch, but he couldn’t help but fight against it and stay put. He didn’t want to move away. He wanted more.

“‘Cause the way I feel about you is once in a lifetime,” Michael said softly, “And you can’t scare me away that easily.”

And suddenly Alex was very glad he hadn’t warned his superior about planning a kill tonight.