#this all came off as really aggressive sorry ( it was sort of intended but whatever )

[mondaymelon]

how old are you

haha. i dont feel comfortable answering that question.

this is... awfully blunt. like no context straight up- dunno why people are digging into personal things and serious things in my inbox now like did i write something that made yall think id give out private info like that ( nothing against you btw ) ??

its common and known knowledge that to. yk. stay safe online that you shouldn't reveal your legal name, age, blablabla whatever. please understand that i don't feel safe revealing this information to random people online that i don't trust.

for you to read my ffs, all you need to know is that i am a minor who is still in school. if this is the same anon that sent the nsfw ask earlier ( if it's not, sorry ) please stop . my blog doesn't really have relevance to things like that as im writing perfectly non-explicit things : )

ahaha. a hi next time would have been nice /hj

[extremelyblackandwhite]

madam carter baizen president, what about carter with the song traitor by olivia rodrigo?

pairing : carter baizen x reader

warnings : angst, carter is an asshole (sadly), reader is nate’s twin sister

inspired by traitor

you betrayed me and i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt. you'd talk to her when we were together. loved you at your worst but that didn't matter, it took you two weeks to go off and date her. guess you didn't cheat but you're still a traitor

She stood in the middle of the high end designer shop, thousands of girls from Constance moving up and down, picking and fighting for different dresses for one of the biggest events before graduation - Cotillion. As a carrier of the Archibald family name, the twin sister of Nate Archibald, Y/N’s RSVP was sent in her behalf before she even understood what it actually was. She didn’t mind doing it, she didn’t mind keeping up the traditions that her family was so overprotective yet she couldn’t say she particularly enjoyed them. She had to be truthful to herself and admit that she did not enjoy the idea of being presented to society as merely a stereotype of what her social status expected her to become. Maybe that was the dream for some girls, but it definitely wasn’t hers. Nevertheless, she had convinced herself to go, after all Rory Gilmore had gone and she had had a blast so why shouldn’t Y/N give it a go? Besides, if she even thought about not going, she was sure her mother would come from the wood work with her dramatic reasons as to why going to Cotillion was important, when it reality there was only one reason why it mattered - reputation. 

      - So, which one is yours? - her brother joked, looking away from where Blair was trying on her own dress. Y/N rolled her eyes, raising her hand where a black hanger was with her dress. - White? You’re trying to present yourself as virginal?

       - One of us has to. - she bite back. - Besides, Rory wore white and I wanna wear white. 

       - You shouldn’t model your life after a sitcom, Y/N. It’s not gonna be nearly as fun as they portray it. 

       - I can always trip you while you’re dancing. That’ll be fun, huh? 

       - What’ll be fun will be seeing Carter Baizen escort you when mum and dad don’t even know you’re sneaking around with him. 

       - I’m not sneaking around and I told you I’m going alone. - she wasn’t lying. She’d become acquainted with Carter a few years ago and the two had become close friends, both sharing an ambition of travelling around the world, hiking high mountains and looking at the clearest seas but that’s where it ended. At least to him. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have at least some sort of romantic interest in him. How could she not? He was a handsome man with the same ideals as her, who’d often flirt but she’d convinced herself it was just who he was. Yet, her hopes were always very high at whatever they had. He didn’t look at anyone else like he looked at her, he didn’t hug anyone else like he hugged her and after he left New York, she was the one who he’d still write to yet it never progressed to anything else. She’d rather have him as whatever they were so she could keep him. Of course, Nate was of a different opinion and believed the two were dating, just without the label. - Not everyone can take a Waldorf to Cotillion.

     - You’re not going alone, Y/N. C’mon, we know so many people, so many guys who’d die to take you to Cotillion.

     - It’s really not a big deal. 

     - You should just ask him. - Nate told her, before being dragged away by one of the tailors to fix his suit. She had to admit, she was rather keen on seeing her brother in a fitted grey suit. 

After deciding there was no point in keeping in that store, hoping to find something else, she stepped outside, dress bag over her shoulder. It was a pretty dress and after all, who does not enjoy to be in a pretty dress and get free food and drink? She continued to walk down the street, mindlessly going through a checklist in her head of things she had to get sorted before Cotillion tonight. As her mind checked out invisible tasks, she spotted Carter just a bit down the street. A smile playfully etched on her cherry stained lips as she walked down to meet him. 

     - Hello stranger. 

     - Oh, hi princess. - his eyes moved from whatever he had been looking at to look at her, yet something was off. - What you got there? Body bag?

     - Cotillion dress. Not as exciting. - his attention was scattered, eyes looking left and right as if he was looking out for something. - Are you ok, Carter?

     - ‘Course I am. - he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, turning her the opposite way. - Excited for Cotillion?

     -  They always have great stuffed mushrooms and I do intend to have at least a whole tray just for myself. 

     - Who’s the poor bastard who’s taking you? Vanderbilt?

     - He’s my cousin, Carter. Besides, I told you I am going by myself. 

     - And your mother allowed that?

     - She doesn’t need to know.

     - Sneaky. - he chuckled, stopping as her flat came into view. 

     - I wouldn’t have to be sneaky if you escorted me, Baizen. - she meant for it to sound as a joke, but as those words escaped her lips, she realised how oddly passive aggressive they sounded. 

     - You know it’s not my thing.

     - I know. - she sighed. - I’m just being silly.

     - I’ll take you for brunch tomorrow. We’ll discuss all the gossip that went on. You know the rules, the one with the best piece of gossip wins and the other one pays.

     - You better bring your wallet, Baizen. - she opened the door of her building, bidding her goodbyes before quickly climbing up the stairs to get ready.

Sure, part of her wished he would escort her and be her date but he despised the idea of Cotillion more than she did and she wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable the whole night. Besides, if she went alone, she probably would get to change her own introduction speech and make a splash for the family. No publicity is bad publicity, after all. As the sun set down, she was being rushed into the car by her mother, hair set with pearl strings all around which matched the ones that hanged from her earrings. She felt pretty, she had to admit. However, as she stepped into the limo where Blair and Nate was, she couldn’t help but imagine how things would’ve been if Carter had taken her. He would’ve brought her favourite lilies as a corsage, just as when he came back from Florence on her birthday and surprised her with a whole bouquet of white lilies and roses. He’d probably have his tie a bit too loose, as he always did whenever he was inevitably forced to wear one. They would dance the whole night to classical pieces. Yet, all these past tenses were merely ghosts in her brain and as they pulled in front of the building hosting Cotillion, she realised she was alone. He wasn’t here, he didn’t make it a priority to escorting her. But it was okay, she’d never want him to do something which would make him uncomfortable. 

As per usual, they were fashionably late as Blair put it and were rushed to the big staircase. She’d seen it before with her cousins own cotillion ceremonies - two big staircases facing each other, one had all the girls and the other the boys. Normally, she’d be looking at whoever was escorting her but since she was about to be escorted by her own self, she merely looked at her own white shoes, contrasting with the gold gown Serena, who was in front of her, was wearing. As long as she didn’t trip or fall down the stairs, it would be fine. 

     - Escorting Serena van der Woodsen is Carter Baizen. - her eyes looked up as she wondered if her own tired brain was playing jokes on her. But it wasn’t.

They were there. He was here, in the centre, by Serena’s side, escorting her. The sound of the room all went quiet and all she could hear was the buzzing in her ears and her heart drop to her stomach. There were no thoughts in her brain and she didn’t seem to even acknowledge what was happening around her, all she felt was an overwhelming pain and her chest tightening.

    - Next is Y/N Archibald, daughter of Howard and Anne Archibald, escorted by ... - she went down the stairs, standing in the centre by her self as she felt the whole world staring at her. 

    - Me. - she looked to her left to see Chuck Bass run down the stairs to stand by her side. - Sorry, I’m late.

    - Thank you. - she mouthed to Chuck as they went down the stairs. 

    - He’s an ass. - Chuck said as they reached the floor. Immediately, Nate and Blair came over to her side. - I’ll stick around for when we have to dance.

    - Thank you, Chuck.   

    - I thought you said he didn’t like these things. - Nate was mad, everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. 

    - Not now.

    - Yes, now, Y/N. He humiliated you.

    - He didn’t ... he’s just a traitor.    

[iceshard1011]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: pre janus' photoshoot, he had no right looking that gorgeous okay, yeah literally got inspired by the fact that janus and roman wore the same lipstick, could be romantic or platonic, Insecurity, Self Confidence Issues, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, who is only mentioned once, Making Up, (kind of), Hopeful Ending, Guilt, Makeover, In which i call myself a multishipper and then continuously go nuts over roceit, Ro goes from confused himbo to romance expert way too fast, and that's bias for you, Listen just because janus is self preservation doesn't mean he's got good self esteem, Janus ‘self care’ sanders: what is makeup, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Janus needs to get ready for his turn for that stupid photoshoot idea Thomas offered him. He’s not exactly looking for help, but he gets it anyway.

And… maybe something more.

2k word fic under the cut :)

The mindscape hadn’t seen much of it’s self-proclaimed prince lately. It was painfully noticeable, given the halls weren’t being deafened by singing, and no one was as challengeable or as willing to bicker as much anymore. Patton’s smile was just this side of strained at breakfast. Logan would look up, eyes sparkling and eyebrow half-raised, the beginnings of something on his tongue before he would remember there was no one to say it to. Virgil kept sneaking sideways glances towards the staircase, as if no one could see him.

Not that Janus was bothered, of course. He had always preferred peace and quiet over chaos. He had just… become slightly acclimated to it during his years with Remus.

Except… it did make things exceptionally difficult when Janus needed something.

Even more so when he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted.

Janus tried not to curl his lip too much as he stared at his reflection. Stupid sides and stupid Thomas and his followers and his own stupid thoughts. This looked wrong and felt wrong and Janus was a few seconds away from burning this damn —

An opening door. It creaked slightly, not enough that it was Virgil’s, but certainly not Logan’s. It was opened hesitantly, not something that Patton would have much reason for. Perfect.

Janus stuck to the shadows as he slunk down the hallway. It was unnecessary, as had been prefaced many times by the others — even Virgil had caught him at one point, in the middle of slithering silently into the kitchen for something to drink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Virgil had said. “You’re allowed to get something to eat.” (Janus had not pointed out that his throat had been parched and itching for water from a dying scream after flashing images had raped his sleeping mind.) “Plus, you look ridiculous skulking behind furniture like that, anyway.” Janus had flicked his tongue at him and left to get his water.

Roman hesitated at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. Janus didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Once he was out of sight, Janus shot into his room, the door still creaking open.

What did he need? What was he going to need to put on? What were the requirements of this stupid activity?

He didn’t even know what he wanted. What would help? What would cover up enough that he fit the unspoken, stupid critera for these damn photos? What did foundation do? Would it dry his skin out? He was not in the mood to deal with brittle scales.

Lipstick. Roman had used lipstick in his photoshoot.

Janus shot forward and grabbed the first one of the display rack.

“Stealing now, are you?”

Janus whirled around, thankfully crushing the rather embarrassing squeak before it could escape.

“Oh,  absolutely,”  he purred, but the not-lie was immediately evident the moment Roman’s angry eyes trailed down to the lipstick clenched in his fist.

“You sly little —” The prince marched forward, face twisted dangerously, and despite himself, Janus found himself stepping backwards.

Roman wasn’t violent. He was brash, and impulsive, and when he pulled his sword on whatever startled him, but he had never, not once, used physical aggression to prove a point.

Janus found it hard to believe he would start now, but… Roman had never been driven to such a point before now.

And Janus was the reason.

It was when he had stalked close enough that their height differences were clear enough that under normal circumstances, Janus would be rather annoyed (now, however, he was only focusing on keeping his breath calm and his gaze level), that Roman seemed to notice the way Janus was dressed.

“What are you wearing?” he uttered, suddenly sounding far more confused than mad.

“Something that was certainly all my idea,” Janus hissed, waiting for the disbelieving eyebrow raise, for the look that said You? Really? Waiting, as tense as he had ever been, for more laughing.

Roman did nothing except manage to look even more lost. “Oh.”

Janus wasn’t sure if he felt irritated or guilty at the prince’s crestfallen look.

Irritated, apparently, as his thoughts began to hiss.

Oh, terribly sorry that I’ve been accepted like the rest of you. My apologies that I aim to help Thomas just like everyone else in this damn place. I am  so sorry  that for whatever godforsaken reason they asked me to put on these ridiculous —

“Well, hurry up and finish the look,” Roman said, as if resigning himself to a fate that no one asked him to.

Janus blinked at him.

Roman summoned a hand-held mirror and held it out towards him.

Janus didn’t quite say ‘what the hell’ — but it was close.

Roman seemed smart enough to read the baffled look on his face. “You can apply it here so I can be assured you will hand it back when you are done. I can’t trust someone like you to return it otherwise.”

“I’m sure you can replace a single stick,” Janus said, just slightly scathingly.

Roman didn’t seem discouraged. He expectantly held the mirror out further.

Janus’ stomach was writhing uncomfortably. He kept his face carefully blank, loath to betray how distasteful he found this, and glared at the mirror. He ignored the bemused look Roman gave him when he struggled with uncapping the lid, and fought against the slight tremors in his hand.

He didn’t get very far before Roman, looking absolutely scandalized, reared back like a startled horse. Janus paused when his mirror was yanked away and glared up at the prince.

“I would appreciate a limited amount of interruptions,” he began but Roman had already dumped the mirror and darted forward to snatch the lipstick from his hand. “Hey!”

“Why did you try applying it like that?” he cried. Janus shuffled, bewildered.

“I know exactly what you’re —”

“No, no,” Roman interrupted, waving his hands. “No. Stop. Come here.”

Janus bared his teeth. “Why?”

“You look like you’ve never applied makeup a day in your life,” Roman said, and suddenly Janus didn’t have any quips to reply with. Roman squinted. “You’ve never used makeup?”

“Because I have always had a reason to,” Janus snapped. Roman raised his hands, which surprised him.

“Right.” The prince beckoned again, but Janus remained rooted. What on earth was the moron trying to achieve?

Roman seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and leaned forward, quietly scrutinizing. Janus bit back on a snarl.

“When’s the shoot?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus said, slightly more harsh than he intended.

“The photoshoot,” Roman clarified.

“Whenever I want,” Janus snapped.

Roman, rather than retorting, or recoiling, lit up. “Perfect!”

Janus slunk backwards. “What are you playing at, White Knight?”

A flash of confusion danced in Roman’s eyes for a split second before he lost himself in his excitement once more.

“Your makeup, Phantom of the Opera!” he shrilled, bouncing over to his vanity and pulling out the chair. “I’ll do it for the photoshoot! Come, sit, sit!” Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t move. Roman faltered. “Or… or not. I don’t —”

“Why?” Janus interjected.

“You can’t get dressed up without a little makeup,” Roman said with a smile.

“The others did,” Janus pointed out, but Roman waved him off.

“It’s imperative to feel good when you should be looking good!” He began to dig around in his draws, pulling out a variety of brushes and different coloured palettes. Janus didn’t know what any of them were for.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly.

Roman paused long enough to level him with a skeptical look. “You, who came in here for makeup and got caught red handed… are trying to ask what I am getting at?”

Janus glared at him.

Roman gestured to the chair once more. “Sit.”

Sulking, Janus sat.

Roman studied him carefully for a moment before beginning to sort through his ridiculously large assortments of strange… makeup… things.

The prince started slowly, using an odd, coloured sponge, but Janus still flinched when the first cold sensation started to plaster his face.

Roman pulled back as well. “Sorry. Here, this is primer. It’s kind of like moisturiser.”

Janus’s tongue flicked in and out for a moment in consideration. Coming to a decision, he forced himself to sit still and allow Roman to start again. He must have realised Janus was still not entirely comfortable with this setting, so he began to offer what each tool was and what it did as he applied it to Janus’ face.

Primer, foundation, ‘concealer,’ whatever the hell  that was…

It was quiet for a few minutes while Janus let Roman work before he finally had to speak.

“You’re… not doing my other side.”

Roman didn’t pause, moving to pick a different brush and palette. “Your scales?” he asked, focusing on where he was working. Janus found the lack of eye contact oddly comforting.

“Why aren’t you covering them up?” Janus asked.

Roman did halt, then, and lowered the brush. He frowned slightly. “Why would I want to?”

The earnest in his voice made Janus falter. The prince’s genuine confusion made his chest feel impossibly wide and too warm. Roman had already resumed his work, completely clueless to what he’d done.

You fucking himbo, Janus thought.

“Close your eyes for me,” Roman instructed. Janus frowned at him. Roman didn’t seem to understand that kind of action required an amount of trust that Janus certainly did not have for him yet. He elaborated with a beseeching, “Please?”

Janus’ eyes closed.

He could tell Roman was pleased when he got back to work. “Keep your eyes relaxed, but don’t open them, unless you want a bunch of brush bristles where they should not be.”

“Pleasant,” Janus remarked.

“Very,” Roman agreed sagely. Janus bit down the smirk.

It was quiet again, apart from Roman beginning to hum the beginnings of a song. Janus didn’t recognise it, and he wasn’t even sure Roman knew he was doing it. But it wasn’t unpleasant, so Janus let it be. The lack of silence was comforting against any awkwardness that could have remained.

Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara.

Eventually, Roman leaned back, and beamed. “There.” He held up another — how many did he have? — handheld mirror. “Look!”

Janus looked.

Roman’s smile softened as he glanced between Janus’ face and his reflection. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know?” Janus asked.

“I didn’t push any blush on your cheeks.”

Janus didn’t point out that Roman had moved his hand to Janus’ knee and it was burning through the skirt, but sure. Janus could agree that he didn’t  hate  the look Roman had given him.

Roman’s eyes scanned over Janus’ face once more, and this time Janus matched his gaze unwaveringly. A smile twitched at Roman’s lips, and the prince jumped.

“Oh! Almost forgot the whole reason this happened!” He twisted around and turned back, jabbing the lipstick at Janus’ face. It was jolting, and Janus jerked backwards against his own will. “Sorry, sorry.” Roman held a hand. “Come here, come back. I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Janus remained still as Roman lined his lips with the paint. The fingers pressed to the edge of his jawline rendered him rather useless against his instincts, anyway.

Roman’s eyebrows twitched downward for a second. He must have made a mistake, because he moved to carefully swipe a finger at the edge of Janus’ lips.

Goddamn it, this was such a mistake.

Janus swallowed.

Finally, after way too long how slow do you apply lipstick, Roman pulled back, seeming satisfied.

“Now you're ready for a photoshoot,” he decided.

Janus glanced back to his reflection. He still had some of his own details to add, but… yes. Janus could almost agree.

Roman went back to sorting through his various makeup supplies. Janus felt a little transfixed with the deft movements of the prince, how certain he moved, how he knew where everything needed to be. A confidence Janus had failed to see in… a very, very long time.

A sharp laugh, vicious and hurtful, the lie doing nothing to soften the blow —

Janus stood abruptly, the chair wobbling against the carpet. Roman glanced up. He seemed to remember where they had been before Janus’ makeover, and for a moment his eyes darkened. Janus braced himself for another argument.

Then Roman’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. “Have fun,” he said. Then, after a moment, added, “You’ll kill it.”

Janus halted at the doorway before he could flee, taken off guard. He glanced down at the prince, who gifted him a small smile.

Janus didn’t smile back. He turned to study the doorway framework. “It would certainly be rather… dismal if you came down for dinner at some point tonight. Presumably, at the same time as everyone else.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, truly?” he said. His voice was warm.

Janus sighed theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I couldn't argue if you were to try to prove me wrong.”

Roman tossed his head. “Watch it, Noodles. You don’t want to defy a knight.”

“Perhaps not,” Janus mused, regarding a chip in the doorway’s wood. “But a hero never backs down from a challenge.”

He didn’t wait to see Roman’s expression. He wisped away down the hallway without looking back, without seeing what he could have just done.

Like a coward.

He may have just made things worse. He could have reversed everything that odd makeup session had built. He was well aware of the fact that if that was the case he should have kept his mouth shut.

But oddly, Roman’s silence hadn’t seemed heavy. He hadn’t tensed. He hadn’t shouted, or scowled, or slammed the door in Janus’ face.

Granted, Janus hadn’t given him a chance to, but…

As he slid into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, he didn’t feel horrible. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now. He set his gaze on his closet, still open and waiting. Where was his hat?

[catxsnow]

TRUTH BE TOLD D.G & J.T.

Request:  Alright homeslice hear me out: dick x reader x jason love triangle. And reader is so oblivious and doesn't realize it. One night they're fighting someone and reader gets hit with like a love/truth spell and BAM angst and fluff galore

Warning: Fluff, Angst, swears

A/N: I hate love triangles but I made an exception just this once. I’m sorry about this ending. 

Also if you don’t know, Klarion is a bratty Witch Boy. Pretty much all you need to know for this lol. Also I love Zatanna, okay I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HER it was just for the plot. 

GIF not mine

Word count: 4.2k

Damian was tired. He was tired of seeing his brothers so ridiculously pine over you. First off, you were far too beautiful to stoop as low as them. Secondly, they continuously tried to gain your attention that has made them look like narcissistic idiots. Whether it was trying to show of their muscles with some sort of cool move or prove their intellect, they tried everything.

You didn't work with Batman full time until moving to Gotham. It was the occasional team up that got Dick and Jason absolutely infatuated with you. When they heard that you were moving to Gotham for good? Well, they were in the least to say, very, very excited. Even with Dick in Bludhaven most the time and Jason off fighting around the world, it was a hell of a lot easier to see you when they came home.

Much like Bruce and his family, you were just human. No powers, no magic, just someone who wants to see the world a better place. Maybe that was the reason that Batman trusted you so easily - well as much as he trusted anyone. Being human meant that you had weaknesses, a lot of them.

One of those weaknesses included being completely oblivious to people's feelings about you. Most of your life you were cut off from emotions. If you wanted to do a good job of cleaning up cities from crime, you couldn't be distracted by caring for others. Year after year you told yourself it was just part of the job.

Until you moved to Gotham. Becoming part of the Bat-team made you realize that it was okay to let people in, even just a little bit. If the great Batman himself cared for a select few of people, why couldn't you? Damian had become the annoying little brother to you, Tim as well. It was with Jason and Dick where things became more complicated.

The two men had obvious feelings for you - everyone was aware about it except for you. They were allured by your skills, beauty, talents, and genuine selflessness. Night after night they had an endless war of trying to see who you would choose. You hadn't noticed either of their attempts at this, to you they were just being friendly.

This was why Damian was tired of it. You didn't even know about their feelings and yet they still fought about it when you weren't around. Jason and Dick would yell at each other, trying to prove who deserved you more. Bruce and Alfred had to pull them apart before things got escalated nearly every time.

It had been going on for years, and even though they both had been in and out of relationships over the years, it seemed that the end goal was always you.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of this guy!"

It was supposed to be an easy mission, in and out before anyone could even see you. Of course, things had to go wrong. Klarion the Witch Boy had been hiding within the shadows and the second that he laid eyes on you, all hell broke loose.

Objects were thrown in your direction constantly and it was becoming a struggle to continue to dodge them all. There was no way that you could get a clear shot on him with his force field protecting him and his stupid cat. No matter how many explosives and sharp objects you threw his way, there was no chance of getting to him.

It was against your wish that you had to call in for back up. After being on your own for this mission, you were quick to realize that Klarion was far too powerful for you to take down on your own. Bruce and Damian arrived as fast as they could to help you, the others were unfortunately busy with missions and couldn't come to you even if they wished to.

Their entrance had distracted you for only a sliver of a second, but that time was all Klarion needed to cast the first spell he could think of off the top of his head. A red blast protruded from the palm of his hand and went straight towards you. It hit your right in the chest and the force of it pushed you painfully into the nearest wall.

Your head smacked against the cement and black spots covered your vision because of it. As you tried to push yourself up off the ground, you could see Klarion getting away. He wasn't prepared for a fight against Batman himself. Your arms collapsed from below you and you didn't have the energy to even sit up.

The last thing you saw was Robin running towards you with worry on his face.

><

You woke up to bright lights. The small med bay that Bruce had in the cave was always lit up and each time you were stuck there you always wished he'd get different lights that didn't hurt to look at. The groan that you admitted while sitting up caught the attention of those who had stuck around for you to wake up.

Jason, Dick, and Damian were all there waiting for you to recover from the spell that Klarion had cast upon you. They were still unsure what he had done to you, but if you didn't seem to be in any danger from it, at least nothing that would be permanent. They wouldn't know until you woke up.

The three boys hovered over you, watching your every movement. "The last thing someone wants to see waking up is your ugly faces," you joked. The three of them rolled their eyes nearly in sync as they gave you some space. "What happened?"

"Klarion hit you with a spell," Damian informed you. "How do you feel?"

"My headache feels worse than the time that I showed up hungover for patrol with Bruce. Also, I’ve got the weirdest craving for a PB and J," You blurted out. Your eyes were wide at your answer - you definitely didn't mean to say that out loud. "What the fuck. I didn't mean to say that. What did that Witch Rat do to me?"

"We don't know," Jason answered. He glanced between you and Dick. Both of them wanted to hold you in their arms, to make sure that you were safe with them. Neither of them made a move to do so, not when they didn't know what was wrong with you. "Do you feel any different?"

You shook your head. You felt fine. Your body wasn't that sore and you didn't feel sick in any sort of way. Hopefully, his spell was nothing but a distraction to get out of there and not something that would leave you suffering for the rest of your life.

"Maybe we should call Zatanna, she might be able to figure out what he did to you. What do you think?" Dick offered. If anyone could figure out a magic spell, it would be her. Your thoughts immediately went to the time that she and Dick had briefly dated and your mind went sour.

"Zatanna was never good enough for you Dick, you always deserved better than her. She's a liar, and a sneak," you said aloud. This time, your hands physically covered over your mouth from what had just come out of it. There was no way that you intended to say that out loud.

"Whoa, (Y/N)," Jason held his hands up in defense. You were never one to be snippy with other people. There were the time that you got annoyed and flipped on them, but never behind their backs like this. What the hell was going on with you? "Tell us how you really fell," he continued to joke around.

"I feel like sometimes I meant to be alone in this life. That I'll never be good enough to have someone love me because of the things that I've done, the people I've killed. It's come to the point where I don't feel like I deserve to wear this suit because of how aggressive I've become while in it."

You one again held your palm of your mouth. Where did this come from? Why did you just reveal your darkest insecurities to them? Insecurities that you could barely admit to yourself, much less someone else. Even if you did trust these boys with your life, you didn't always trust them with your feelings.

"What the fuck!" you screeched. Whatever Klarion had done to you, it was taking effect. You would never say anything like this, everyone knew that. You were reserved when it came to any emotions, maybe just as bad as Bruce himself. The surprised look on the boy's face had made you feel even more embarrassed for what you said.

The shock quickly turned to pity. They had no idea that you felt that way about yourself. Dick and Jason both wanted nothing more than to just tell you how they felt, to assure you that you were worthy of love. They might not have had the cleanest slates either, but you still deserved to have someone love you.

"Klarion put a truth spell on you," Bruce had joined the four of you. You hadn't even noticed him arrive and wondered how much of that he had heard. Bruce knew that you had killed before, but he also knew how it tore you up at night and that it wasn't something that you were proud of. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"Because you think I can't do things on my own, don't you?" You questioned with hostility in your voice. "I didn't mean that. Yes I did. Bruce! Fix this!" You had a turmoil within you. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself from blurting out how you truly felt, you couldn't do it.

Bruce said nothing else, but nodded once before leaving. As soon as his father left, Damian gained a bit of an evil look in his eyes. Before you could even try to stop him, he had already started talking. Truth spell that you couldn’t resist answering? He was going to have a lot of fun with that.

"Did you eat the last slice of cake and blame it on Jason?" Damian asked. There was no way that he wasn't going to take advantage of this situation with you, but he wanted to start off with easy questions to see how powerful this spell really was. You should have known that he was going to do this.

The list of questions that any of them could ask you was horrendously long. The more you thought about it, the more you really did have to hide from them. You were pretty secretive and without being able to hold back the truth, they could find out everything from you if they wanted to.

"Yes," you told them. Jason's gained a look of hurt at your words. "Damian was holding a knife! What else was I supposed to say. He scares me." Damian looked content with your truth about him.

"When I lost my helmet a month ago, was it you that took it?" Jason narrowed his eyes. It had disappeared only for a day. When he checked the next time, it was in the exact same spot that he left it. For a while, he assumed that he had just been too sleep deprived but the more he thought about it, the more he knew that someone had to have taken it.

"Yes," You told him. "I wanted to see what the tech was like but then I kind of was having fun and didn't want to take it off. I also stole your sweater when I went over too, it's still in my room but I don't want to give it back. And I took the left overs in your fridge and left the note so you would think it was Roy."

Jason scoffed and shook his head at your answer. He wasn't expecting you to admit so much to one question but he was glad that he asked. The things he was dying to ask you, he knew that he couldn't with everyone else there as well. He had to restrain himself from asking, the answers that were just at the ready for him were so tempting.

"Why does Alfred the cat hate you?" Damian leaned his body closer to you. You felt intimidated under his stare but no matter how hard you bit your tongue you couldn't stop yourself from answering again.

"He wouldn't leave me alone so I threw him in the water fountain in the garden."

Dick and Jason couldn't help but laugh at that one. Damian looked furious at your answer but you had paid for your mistake. Cat scratched lined your arms for the next week.

“Do you sleep naked?” Jason raised an eyebrow. The questions were surely going to get a lot more personal and if they weren’t surrounding you, you already would have made your escape. Unfortunately, you felt too weak to push them away and there was no way you could outrun them. 

“Sometimes,” you answered. The truth spell didn’t seem to be quite content enough with that answer and made you spew out more unforgettable words. “Yes, all the time.” 

"Wait, wait," Dick stopped his brothers as they both opened their mouths to ask even more questions. Though there was so much that he wanted to ask you, he knew that it was wrong to do so. "This is mean, we can't take advantage of (Y/N) like this. She has the right to her own privacy."

"Thanks, Dick," you half smiled at him. You appreciated that someone stepped up to stop anything from happening that you would regret.

"But," Dick continued. Your eyes widened at what he was going to say next. You were sure that they could hear the rise in your heart rate and the see the beads of sweat form on your forehead. being unable to hide what you wanted to say made you more scared than half the missions ever did.

Dick wanted nothing more than to ask you the question they had all been thinking: Jason or Dick? He wanted to know once and for all who it was that you cared for more and which one of them had a real chance with you. This back and forth arguing with Jason was tiring him out. He didn't, it didn't seem right to ask you this question against your will.

"You hooked up with Roy when we were part of the Teen Titans didn't you?"

"After every mission."

Between Damian's disgusted face at you, along with Jason wondering how Roy ever managed to hook up with you, and Dick's disappointment, you could tell that this was not the answer that they were wanting to hear. They wanted to know why you had hooked up with Roy rather than either of them.

Truth was, they just never asked.

><

It had been days and the spell still hadn't worn off. Everyone in the manor kept forgetting about your truthfulness. It was the simple, mundane questions that they didn't expect you to be so open about.

How was your sleep? Who forgot to make coffee? Why is there no milk left? You had openly admitted to them that you were on your period and would much rather take a bullet to the chest than go through this every month.

The worst time had to be when Steph asked about her outfit. She simply wanted another woman's opinion and had completely forgot about your open honesty. After that morning she vowed never to ask about an outfit from you ever again. You felt terrible for saying such awful things to her.

Each question got a very snippy, very truthful answer which you felt bad about. Thankfully, no one teased you anymore about asking ridiculous questions about yourself that you weren't wanting to share. Bruce had scolded his kids for being rude to you - you were a guest in their home until all this was over.

Since you were staying there, that also meant that Dick and Jason had decided to hang around as well. Although you were worried they were still going to ask you certain questions, you were glad to have their company. It had been a while since you had spent time with them outside of missions.

The two heroes were starting to lose their patience with each other. Jason wanted to ask you how you felt about them, it was the perfect time in his eyes to ask. There was no way that you could lie about your feelings and they would finally know the truth after all these years. Whoever you picked, would put an end to this war.

Dick on the other hand, saw this as too much of an invasion to your privacy. If you were going to pick one of them you either would have said something already, or weren't ready to admit it. Forcing you to reveal your feelings seemed like something you would hold against them forever.

Which had brought on another fight between the men. They yelling had caught your attention from your room, but it was the loud crash that followed that made you run downstairs to see what the fuss was about.

Damian stood between Jason and Dick, both of which had a vicious look in their eyes. If there was nothing blocking them, you were sure that they would be right in the middle of a fist fight. Damian looked relieved to see you standing there.

"I'm tired of this useless nonsense," Damian scowled. "(L/N), if you were going to date either of them, which on of these imbeciles would you choose?"

That was a question you had been dreading to be asked. Both men played an important role in your life. They were your best friends, your family. Each of them supported you in their own ways and you would always be thankful for everything that that have done for you. But having to pick a favourite? You didn't want to have to do that.

Jason was the kind of person that would stand up for you no matter what. After everything that he went through with Bruce, he knew that he could be a hardass at times. Jason protected you from things that you didn't even realize you needed protecting from. He kept you sane in this crazy world that you lived in.

Dick managed to always brighten your day on the worst lows you had. He had his ups and down in life and he knew how hard it was to get out of those valleys just by yourself. Without him, you weren't sure what kind of endless pit of self-destruction you would be in. He was there for you when you needed him most.

"I..." you stuttered over your words. These past few days, you hadn't had the choice to think about what you wanted to say. Whatever you felt deep within your heart and mind was the only option that you were allowed to say out loud. Now, you felt a relief in your chest, the ability to say whatever you so choose, not the deep, hidden truth within.

"I don't have to answer that," you told the three of them. Jason and Dick had egarely been waiting for your answer, it was all that they wanted to know within the past few years. Who would you pick? You did you think would treat you better. The questions had been on the tip of their tongues all week and it was finally Damian who had caved. "I think the spell's worn off."

"What?" All three of them nearly screeched. This was the one question that they had been dying to ask you and now that they finally did it, they would never get the real truth out of you. They had missed their shot.

"No, there's no way," Dick argued. He looked panicked, Damian had admitted that the two fought over you and now that they got the chance to see what your choice really was, it was taken right from the palm of their hands. "What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you out on patrol?"

The tightness in your chest that you felt when you had been asked questions didn't appear. You didn't feel the need to blurt anything out either. The spell that Klarion cast on you was finally out of your system, and just in time too. You didn't want to know what would have happened if you had answered that question.

Truth be told, you didn't even know the answer.

You shrugged to answer Dick's question - of course you could remember the most embarrassing things that happened to you, it was engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Without another word, you grabbed your mug of coffee and headed over to the three of them. You kissed the top of Damian's head - to which he grumbled about it.

Damian left the three of you - there was no way that he wanted to be part of whatever was going to happen next.

"(Y/N)..." Jason trailed off. He didn't even know what he wanted to tell you. He wanted to be honest, to tell you that he loved you since the day that you had told him off. He loved the way that you protected everyone no matter the cost but still ruthless against your foes. He loved everything about you.

How was he supposed to compete with someone like Dick? The golden child. Mr. Perfect. There was no way that you would ever pick him over Dick, so why did he keep getting his hopes up? Why had he fought for so many years for your affection? That was what love was all about, he just didn't know it.

"How long has this been going on?" You asked. For years, you had no idea that they had feelings for you. Dick was the biggest flirt you knew, you had just gotten used to it. Jason was always kind to you, you assumed that he was just being the protective friend over you. All these years you were oblivious to how they felt.

"Years," Dick answered briefly. Just like Jason, he wanted to tell you his true feelings. There was nothing more that he wanted than for you to pick him. But how was he supposed to compete with someone like Jason? You were more like his younger brother than you were ever like him, that was how he assumed that you guys got along so well.

Jason was always the person that you leaned on when things were getting rough. He knew how to make you feel better about the terrible things you had done because he had done just the same. Dick was never able to fully understand the difficulties that you went through, not like Jason. After all these years, why did he keep trying?

You sighed, followed by rubbing a hand down your face. That wasn't the answer that you wanted to hear. After knowing them for half your life, you felt like an idiot for not knowing that they were feeling this way. The answer that you gave them about Roy, their reaction to it, it finally made sense. They weren't disgusted, they were disappointed that it wasn't them.

Back then, when you felt like your heart couldn't be broken and that you would never break someone else's, you would have happily had put either of them in Roy's place. Now? Now, the three of you were adults, vulnerable to heartache and mistrust. You were glad that neither of them had gotten the chance.

"I would take a bullet for either of you - I have taken one," You sat down on one of the stools that sat at the kitchen island. Both of them stood before you, waiting for you answer. The anxiety in the room had never been so high before and for the first time in your life, you felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

"And you both know that I care about you, a lot. That's something that's never going to change," you continued on. "There is no one that I trust more with my life than the two of you... But I don't think I could ever trust either of you with my heart. I'm sorry."

You stood up from your spot on the chair. The heartbroken look on their faces nearly broke you. You didn't want either of them to hurt from your answer. The last last thing that you ever wanted to do was hurt them. You loved them both, it was just never the way that they wanted to be loved by you.

With as much delicacy as you could muster through your shaking hands and wobbling chin, you placed a kiss on each of their cheeks. The men leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce of you that they could get.

"You know that I love you both," You spoke once more just before exiting the room. Your back was facing them, turning around meant that you would have to put on a brave face and that wasn't something you were sure you were capable of. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks - whatever friendship you shared with them, it was going to be different now. 

You were all adults, something like this shouldn’t change a friendship that had been lasting for years. Yet, if they had been arguing over you since they were young, you were sure that their teenage mentality of this whole situation would overpower their adult intuition. 

"You deserve better than me, you deserve someone that's going to love you unconditionally. I want you both to be happy, without me."

Truth was, they never would be.

[crystalgirl259]

Guilty Pleasures Chapter 1

SUMMARY: A demon Kai and an angel Zane, longtime acquaintances who, having grown accustomed to life on Earth as representatives of Heaven and Hell, seek to prevent the coming of the Armageddon...

****************

Current theories on the creation of the universe stated that if it were created at all and didn't just start it came into being about fourteen billion years ago. The Earth was generally supposed to be about four and a half billion years old. These dates were incorrect. Some medieval scholars put the date of the creation at 3760 BC while others put creation as far back as 5508 BC. But these were also incorrect. Archbishop James Ussher claimed that Heaven and the Earth were created on Sunday, the twenty-first of October, 4004 BC, at nine in the morning.

This too was incorrect, by almost a quarter of an hour.

It was created at 9:13 in the morning. The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke that paleontologists haven't seen yet. This proved that God did not play dice with the universe. He played an ineffable game of his own devising. For everyone else, it was like playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiled all the time. To understand the true significance of what that means, we need to begin earlier.

A little more than 6,000 years earlier, to be precise.

Just after the beginning. It started, as it will end, with a garden, in this case, the Garden of Eden, and with an apple. It was a nice day, but all the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn't been invented yet. But the storm clouds gathering east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one...

****************

Zane fretted as he stood near the lip of the stone ledge, his shining robes shining in the light along with the white, almost glowing, feathers of his large wings. The first two humans off in the distance, Adam and Eve, had barely made their way out into the new world and they were both already in danger. A large male lion made a beeline from nowhere toward them and was now intending on making them extinct. The young angel didn't think this was going to go well.

Thank goodness they weren't unarmed, the angel consoled himself.

Before they left, he gave Eve his shurikens of ice gifted to him by the high angels. He was surprised to see Adam wielding a sword of fire, a weapon not of Heaven, but considering what had happened, he wasn't too concerned about it. Knowing that they had means of protection helped Zane's mind rest, but only a little. The weather was fair, aside from the rapidly building clouds. At least that was a comfort to know. A kind, warm breeze fluttered his clean robe around in a playful way.

It felt wonderful to the angel, but even better how it ran through his unsheathed white wings.

He flexed them out to get a better feel. It felt good to have them free from their confines. He had been practicing getting used to having them put away for his assignment on this new planet. They had warned him upstairs that he couldn't afford to be seen by 'God's Little Projects' down here. Those were their words, not his own. Before Zane embarked, God himself told him they wouldn't be able to handle it due to now learning 'jealousy', whatever that meant.

When he asked him what it was, he said the young angel would find out in time, plus all the other ones.

He still didn't know why God didn't tell him, but God had always worked in mysterious ways. Don't interfere too much. That was the rule all angels lived by. Be ever watchful, a mentor if needed, provide guidance if asked, but that was it. Not too difficult, or so they kept telling him, and already he broke the rule. Now he had more trouble on the mind. There was only so much to do when watching over the birth of a new species. To be so limited to what needs to be done simply wasn't fair.

Not that he condoned rules should be broken.

But this was not going to be easy. His toes curled on the hard surface when he felt that other presence approach closer. It was a sort of tugging sensation that came from deep inside him. He thought it was curious. That never happened before, except when that thing first showed up. He knew it was nearby anyway. At times it felt as though it was hovering just out of sight, watching. But he had hoped it would leave. It felt different than anything he had ever known, and he didn't like it one bit.

Not when everything was so new.

So he promptly chose to ignore it. It was just a lowly serpent demon anyway. Granted, that filthy Hell beast was most likely the reason he had a chance of being fired before he could do his job. Perhaps everyone would understand. They were angels, after all, forgiveness and compassion were at the very root of their cores. Zane rubbed his temple. He had only one job. He hadn't even been here for very long and already he morally mucked it up.

He would be the laughing stock upstairs.

The only other thing he could possibly get wrong now is if Eden caught fire. Then he would officially be out of a job. Zane started wondering if he should have been more aggressive about it and really told that serpent what for. He never was very good at this soldier of Heaven thing or asserting himself in general. Zane truly believed that someone else would be better suited for this than he.

"What do you make of it?" A voice suddenly asked, shattering the silence. Zane jumped, the voice startling him from his own musings. He hadn't noticed he was no longer alone. He was shocked that the creature had yet to attack him, wondering if they were friendly, but that would be outlandish because the very thought is preposterous, blasphemous even. Their kind would never mingle with his. Not without bloodshed, anyway. It simply wasn't done.

The angel turned to his left and couldn't help but do a double-take to the creature next to him.

It was male, dressed in dark red robes, with amber snake-like eyes, beautiful tanned skin, a toned body, and brown hair shaped in a way that reminded Zane of fire. The back of the demon's hands and up his arms were dusted with dark red snake scales. His finger and toenails were incredibly sharp and black. Zane couldn't take his eyes off it, completely transfixed. He almost didn't believe that that was the serpent. He didn't know it had a vessel, let alone a silky pair of feathered, crimson wings with black tips.

When Zane saw the wings he realized that this was not just some ordinary demon.

It was one of the Fallen. That was fascinating to Zane, as he had never met one of them. In fact, if Zane was entirely honest with himself, this dark one was a mixture of striking, exotic, and becharming. Now it was staring at him with those amber serpent eyes. For some reason, they didn't repulse the angel. It was then that Zane remembered that the snake had asked him something and it was probably best to respond. He should also stop thinking of it as an 'it'.

That demon was evidently much more than that and Zane suddenly felt like he was being rude, even if the demon couldn't read minds.

Zane smiled awkwardly, then concluded he had no idea what the creature said.

"Sorry, what?" Zane asked and the brunette pointed out towards the humans.

"That, right there, the whole tiger thing." He clarified and Zane followed the demon's finger.

"That's a lion." Zane corrected.

"Whatever, don't you think it's a bit much? I mean, they just got out, are finding their footing, and the first thing they come across on this big round planet is this aggressive beast?"

"No one said it would be easy," Zane said, even if the other had a point.

"It's trying to eat them!" The demon gawked at him.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do, uh...?" Zane trailed off when he realized he hadn't gotten the demon's name if it had one. The brunette quickly caught on to why Zane paused and smiled faintly.

"Kai." He answered the unasked question.

"Kai, thank you, but these things are not our decisions to make."

"You're not about to sprout some Holier-Than-Thou jibberish at me are you?" Kai asked as he gave him a peculiar look. Zane wasn't sure how to answer that. That was all anyone ever talked about upstairs. The very idea that someone wouldn't want to, let alone calling it jibberish, preach about it and discuss its many glorious wonders was unheard of. When the angel didn't answer, the dark one rolled his eyes.

"You were, weren't you?"

"There's nothing wrong with that." Zane countered.

"No no, of course not." Kai mocked. "You're within your right to justify a reason as to why God's human race failed at the get-go."

"I'm not trying to do any such thing!" Zane said, growing flustered. "B-Besides, look! The male seems to be fending its adversary off brilliantly on his own! They're obviously capable of taking care of themselves; I only hope that this will be the worst of it, at least for today." He frowned in concern as a roll of thunder broke in, causing them both to look around for the source. Detecting it was from the sky, they exchange looks then went back to watching the battle for survival in front of them.

They stood in oddly comfortable silence before Kai broke it.

"Wait, so that's a lion?" He gasped, almost in awe.

"Yes, It is."

"Never seen one of them before."

"Sorry?" Zane blinked in confusion.

"I said, I've never seen one of those before."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've never seen a lion before, so I would never have known they looked like that." He shrugged and Zane could only stare. "What?" Kai asked in a rather prickly manner.

"Nothing," The angel squeaked as he turned away, a slight blush framing the tips of his ears. He didn't realize he was ogling again. "Just, find it surprising that one dead animal isn't familiar with an equally dangerous one."

"It's not like I was there when they were created, was a little bit busy with another matter at that time, as you well know." Kai returned as another boom of thunder rumbled closer over their heads. Only this time it had been accompanied by a shocking bright snap of light that streaked across the sky. Both of their sets of wings flinched outward and lightly fluffed at the surprise of it. Zane let out an embarrassed chuckle and willed his feathers to settle down.

He could see out of the corner of his eye the other trying to do the same.

He cleared his throat and thought it best to continue where they left off.

"So, therefore, am I left to understand that, based on what you've said, you've never witnessed a tiger as well?" He asked and Kai immediately clammed up.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's a simple question."

"I don't know about that."

"Really? Do tell, I'd love to hear it."

"Has it gotten a bit stuffy out here?"

"No, I find it quite pleasing in all truthfulness."

"More cloudy things are building up."

"Stop trying to change the subject, please." Zane all but begged and Kai eyed him carefully.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being ridiculed?"

"I would never," He said with all honesty. Kai looked around as if someone might hear, grimaced, and leaned in.

"Promise you won't tell?"

"Oh, may the Lord himself strike me down if I should ever utter a syllable to another living soul," Zane promised and he clasped his hands as if in prayer. Kai gave him a doubtful look, but eventually relented and grumbled with an obnoxious huff.

"No, are you satisfied now?! I've never seen a tiger, a lion, or fucking whale!" The demon cried as he closed his eyes and flinched again when more thunder rumbled closer. The sky was turning all below it several shades darker, growing ever so closer to swallowing the bright sun. The angel was oblivious to this, however.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never seen a whale either." Zane smiled. It took a moment, but Zane noticed the smirk flit across that surprisingly pretty face.

"It doesn't," Kai replied as he glanced at him all the same with those gemstone eyes and once again they slipped into a pleasant silence. Zane suddenly had a thought. If Kai didn't seem to know about other animals, did he know about himself?

"Now Uhm, don't take this the wrong way but, you do know what you are, correct?" He asked carefully.

"You mean besides an angel-turned-demon who's damned for all eternity?" Kai said in a sarcastic tone.

"Yes."

"Then, of course, I know."

"Excellent! Care to say it out loud?"

"I already told you; my name's Kai," The demon grinned. He felt his heart miss a beat, and not in a good way. The thump was alarmingly prominent like his vessel-body was trying to alert him to take note of what this creature was saying. There was no possible way this demon could be this naive. Something else was amiss.

"Yes, I know your name, but I'm asking if you know what you are; do you know what you are?" He asked again and Kai's expression gradually changed from enjoyment to being perplexed. His brow furrowed as he stared off, eyes flicking around as if searching for something but simply grew more confused.

"What am I?" Kai finally asked, getting annoyed by the question.

"A serpent, dear," Zane replied for the demon. Evidently, Kai's face fell back to puzzlement once more and Zane's mouth fell open. It was evident that word meant nothing to the demon. "You don't know what a serpent is, do you?" He asked, almost sadly, Kai shrugged it off.

"What of it?"

"That's what you are!"

"So? What's so important with needing to know the ins and outs of a serpent? Why do you care if I know or not?" Kai snapped, experimenting with the new word in his mouth.

"No need to get upset, I was only trying to help," Zane said as he raised his arms in defense to try to quickly diffuse the tension. He watched Kai focus on the humans again, and it was clear something he had said or done bothered the demon immensely. He felt terrible, and then suddenly that scent came back. Only recently Zane had caught this aroma in the air. It comes and goes with the wind, but the longer he had been here the less deniable it had become.

Never had it been invasive or overbearing, but the angel noticed he could pick it out no matter what kind of stronger scents surrounded it.

Right now, this very moment, it was hitting him stronger than it ever had before.

"Looks like the lion's down," Kai added, noting how successful the humans were doing so far. Another rumble of thunder accompanied by that bright flash pushed ever closer. Perhaps Kai had caught a whiff of the scent?

"Do you smell that?" The angel asked, sniffing the air.

"What?" Kai asked and Zane realized he had made a poor judgment.

"Never mind." The angel shrugged off awkwardly, but thankfully the demon didn't push it. They stood there in silence for a short while, before Kai glanced over at Zane, and his snake eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Wait, where are your shurikens anyway? I thought you had a pair that froze anything they touched?" He asked and Zane froze in fear. "Did you have one, or didn't you? Because now I'm confused."

"How do you mean?" The angel asked as he began to feel uneasy.

"Well, your presence here no longer makes sense, so what are you doing here Snowflake?"

"I'm-"

"Are you lost?"

"No, I'm... you're trying to confuse me." Zane accused as his heart started to race,

"I'm trying to confuse you?" Kai almost laughed, and this made Zane even more defensive.

"Yes! That's what your kind do and I will not be swayed into it!" He stated in the strongest voice he could muster at that moment, his chest puffing out slightly as he did. Zane knew he was being cornered. He knew this whole thing was a setup to get him to lose ground or faith or doubt himself in his duties for the choices he'd made and how thanks to him everything was ruined. But that wasn't what upset Zane. He was upset that he fell for it.

He had failed again.

God must have been testing him early and he has failed another one. Or perhaps not? He may have caught it in time, he could still redeem himself if he stayed strong.

"You're the one who's doing the confusing here," Kai lectured. "You're supposed to have some freezing shurikens, which I could've sworn you had, and that would make sense for a Cherub to have in order to guard the Garden of Eden, but let's face it, you're terrible at guarding, and you don't have your shurikens so I ask you again; what are you doing here?" He scowled and a boom of thunder emphasized the demon's point. Zane took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, eyes closed.

All he had to do was be honest, true, and stop being distracted by the alluring visage before him.

"I...I gave them away."

"You gave them away?!"

"Shh! Not so loud!" He panicked, already forgetting the pep-talk he gave himself. "I don't want the head office to hear! Besides, they're not lost or anything; they're right there, see? The humans have it now." The angel explained and pointed to the humans slowly fading in the distance with a pair of remarkably bright-looking objects in the hands of one of them. Kai looked back to the tiny figures, then to the angel. Then back to the figures, and once again to the angel.

Then suddenly, what Zane could only describe as a ridiculously big stupid grin spread over the demon's face, the creature did an unexplainable thing.

He started to laugh, laugh, and laugh some more. It became so severe they turned into fits, gripping his stomach. That damned thing lost its balance and fell to the floor. He rolled around, it wracking his body to near spasm levels, and during it all, he had the utter nerve to speak to the angel at the same time.

"Oh, I would love to be there for your first report! Glad to know I'm not the only one who interfered." He cackled, and his grin grew when he saw the confusion on Zane's face. "What? Where did you think Adam got that flaming sword from?" He laughed and Zane gasped at the realization that Kai had been the one to give Adam the sword, a weapon of Hell. "I hope it doesn't turn out that they aren't too bright yet when it comes to violent weaponry and the use of fire and ice so they somehow kill themselves!"

Zane's paled, even more, when Kai's words sank in.

The angel finally realized that he could get in a great deal of trouble for this. Everything Kai pointed out was more than plausibly true and may happen once the humans were out of sight. This was serious. Even so, he couldn't stop a giggle bubble up to the surface. Watching Kai, he found out, was contagious. It started small but soon grew to a level that was painful to hold in. He tried to stifle it, tried to bite it back with his teeth against his tongue, but it was hopeless.

Zane covered his mouth and did his best to hide it from the cackling demon.

"That's not funny, I beseech you, stop laughing!" He tried to say normally but cracked on the last word. He clenched a fist and nearly begged the other to spare him. Kai rolled to face him and Zane was almost lost again when he saw tears running down his cheeks. He had no choice but to turn away and fisted his hands tightly by his sides. "No! No, I refuse to believe in your trickery! This isn't a joke!" The angel yelled, not caring what he said so long as this lark would end.

Within time, Kai calmed down, breathing heavily.

"They're going to be fine, Snowflake, I'm only teasing you," He said while a chuckle or two still found its way out. "Look how well they have handled themselves against their first threat, and they've only just set foot out there; if I hadn't given them that sword and you hadn't given them the shurikens they would be torn to pieces by now, we saved them." Zane heard from behind him a tired sigh. The loudest thunder roll cracked out, the very appearance of the clouds above threatening their next level to come soon.

The flutter from inside Zane's chest came back.

But, somehow it was stronger this time around. He turned back to face the other being and took notice of how Kai laid there. Wings relaxed, hands resting on the stomach, one leg bent. He was comfortable. Kai, an evil enemy, was content to lay there in his presence. Zane could easily smite him. He would technically be within reason, for what Kai had done concerning the apple. It would be simple, quick, and clean. But that never even crossed his pure mind.

He strode over to the brunette and reached down a hand with a winning smile of his own.

"My name is Zane; it's nice to meet you." He introduced and Kai's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that. He stared at the hand as if he had never seen its kind before. He appeared unsure of what step to take next. Zane gave him time, not pulling away yet. Soon enough, Kai eventually smiled.

"Hello, Zane, it's nice to meet you, too," He replied and reached up with his own hand, clasped the inviting one, and was hoisted up. Zane nearly dropped the demon, however. Once they touched, the contact was not at all what he was expecting. He cried out, yanking his hand away, and jumped back. His other hand clasped it around the wrist and pulled it close. Zane stared from his hand to Kai in either astonishment or fear. He couldn't decide which it was.

Kai just raised an eyebrow at him, perplexed as to what had happened.

"Oh! Forgive me but, you're so hot! To the touch, I mean!" He stammered as he did his best to explain but not offend.

"Naturally." Kai shrugged. Zane shook his head, confused.

"This is a normal occurrence?"

"Of course," The demon said casually, amused by the reaction from the angel. He crossed his arms, took a deep, over-exaggerated breath. "Being a fallen angel, or more accurate, a demon from the fiery pits of Hell now, so to answer your question; being boiling hot is normal for demons like me," He smiled. The next boom of thunder rumbled on for some time. It was as if the sky was growling its impatience for being ignored.

"Is that all?"

"Yep," Kai replied, but he didn't seem to care. The brunette then opened his mouth and exhaled. The air in front of it appeared to ripple several inches outward. Zane walked up to it, mesmerized, and like a baby who was still testing out the world for the first time, he reached out a hand and ran it through it. It was warm, heated air coming out. It wasn't painful in the slightest. The angel beamed as he wiggled his fingers around it. He kept it up until Kai closed his mouth, grinning at Zane's blush.

Zane was about to agree, then stopped himself and wondered why this was brought up in the first place.

"Anywho, going back to your shuriken conversation with His Almighty, if you can't find humor even in the direst situations, then what's the point of it?" He asked and Zane visibly shook his wings at the way Kai mockingly talked about the Lord. Ignoring that, however, Zaen wasn't sure what he thought of that advice, but he secretly tucked it away in the back of his mind all the same.

"You'll be alright, he loves all of you unquestionably," Kai added and Zane paused. Did he hear that right? Had a fallen angel, a being who willfully rebelled against God just casually admit the Lord adored all of them? Without a second thought about it? What was going on here? Zane turned his head and glanced at the demon. The brunette was rigid stiff. Amber eyes hard, staring intently straight ahead. Jaw clenched. He could see the dark one's fingers turning white from how hard he was gripping his own arms.

So it was a mistake.

He didn't mean to say it. Now at least something about this villain makes sense to him.

"I wonder how far up we are?" Kai suddenly blurted out with a jerk of his head, and then just took off, running over and standing right on the edge of the wall cliff. His red and black wings thrusting out just so as to counter the body weight from tumbling over. Zane gasped and ran after but stayed himself some steps later. For a split moment, he chastised himself for the idea of wanting to save the enemy. But most of the time he was too busy worrying about the brunette disappearing suddenly from his sight.

The wind had picked up some, and was a tad rougher on Kai's clothes and hair, yanking and blowing it around like a dare to take another step.

The demon suddenly moaned, but Zane couldn't tell what he meant. The angel moved fast and was standing next to them once the groan had been uttered.

"Are you alright?" He panicked.

"I don't like heights," The demon mumbled. The eyes were closed and they appeared to be swaying.

"Then get away from the edge, you silly thing!" Zane shouted, grasping the other and guiding him down to safety. When he unclosed his eyes, he got defensive.

"I just wanted to see how far down it was!" He hissed angrily, but Zane just rolled his eyes and neither of them said anything more on the subject. Water from the skies began to fall. When it hit them they shied away from it on the first drops. Zane figured it out quicker than the other one did. Kai seemed a little lost to this experience, unsure of what to do or how to react to it. Kai must have sensed eyes on him, for he turned to catch the angel's icy orbs.

Zane, at this point he stopped trying to reason it, opened an arm, lifted a wing, and beckoned the other in.

To say he was surprised the demon actually moved closer was a hardball to juggle. So many unusual and unexpected things happened in such as short time. He wasn't even sure how he felt. He didn't seem the least bit repulsed when Kai stood so close they nearly touched shoulders, and he could feel the heat of the other's temperature radiating onto him. The demon kept glancing at him, shifting on his bare feet. Eventually, he opened his mouth and asked what seemed to be on his mind.

"No hard feelings between us, yes? After all; I was only doing what I was so ordered to, on pain of repercussion, and all that." He said, looking a little nervous. This made the pale angel go quiet. Unsure of whether to trust what this thing was saying or if he was lying to him and this was planned the whole time. Whichever it was, he hadn't the heart to be cruel.

"No, I daresay, no hard feelings; it's too early for that yet." He replied and another silence surrounded them. Every once in a while, they would both stick their hands out to catch the water droplets on their palms then bring them in under the protection of the angel's wing. Even if they both refused to admit it, Kai and Zane felt at peace at that moment. Where it was just the two of them, huddled together as they experienced the first rainfall with the young planet Earth...

[random-mha-thoughts]

Bully Part 2 (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff, slight angst, Baku-having-feelings-and-being-soft (bc that's totally a genre)

Sequel to Bully (part 1)

Word count: 2,319

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: This ended up being longer and slightly more emotional than I expected.  Seems like I’m following the trend of getting the BNHA boys to say what’s really on their minds (I’ve already done this for Todoroki in case you were wondering), so Baku will be ooc and soft here.

This came out later than I intended because...let’s just say I was having a mental breakdown over a really long and really naughty Todo fic here and I ended up calling my little cousin and crying and laugh-crying and shaking and losing my collective mind because none of my friends would know what I was going through.  And I was in no headspace to write fluff afterwards, she had to force fluff headcanons into me to go back to normal.  Yall should thank her.  Enjoy~

None of us had any idea how or why Bakugou suddenly started acting this way.  Apparently, he was completely normal until I walked in.  All I did was open the door to the classroom, my gaze just so happened to land on Bakugou, and suddenly I heard loud stomps towards me.

I held out a defensive hand, ready to shoot out branches at him if he got too close.  "Bakugou-" I threatened.  And he did the unthinkable.  He gripped me in a choke hold around my shoulders and neck.

Actually, no.  He...hugged me?

My clenched fists and the hush that fell over the rest of the students told me this is the first time all day he's done something out of character, something I definitely wasn't expecting.  We hadn't talked since I almost jumped out of a window last week.  This entire week, he was ignoring me.  I was preparing for the day he would finally confront me, and I pictured it would be an aggressive encounter.

This is far from anything I'd imagined.

I never ever thought this porcupine-head could even show affection, that he even has a single gene of softness in him.  Yet he was embracing me tightly, nuzzling his face in my neck.  The shock of it all made me freeze up and cast a sideways glance at Midoriya, who was just as freaked and confused.

"Get off, Bakugou, what are you-"

The boy lifted his head up, his scarlet eyes softened into fondness and a gentle smile on his lips made the rest of my words catch in my throat.  This entire expression was foreign to all of us.  His face can look like that?

"I missed you over the weekend."

My jaw dropped.  HIS VOICE CAN SOUND LIKE THAT??  The smooth and sweet honey tone was way out of character for him.

But like hell I trusted any of this.

I wiggled my arms up to push his weight off me.  "I don't know how you managed to become such a great actor," I succeeded in separating from his vice grip, "But if you think disorienting me like this can be some sort of revenge, you're sorely mistaken."

Bakugou tilted his head, resembling a sad puppy.  "What do you mean?"

I straightened my uniform.  "Nice try, I know you're just acting so you can, like, throw me off the building or something."

That seemed to hurt him, his jaw gaping open before holding my face in his calloused hands.  "I'd never do that to you."

I quickly swatted his hands away, wary that he was about to blow my face off.  "Don't. Touch. Me."

The boy froze in place, then rubbed the back of his neck.  Regret seeped through his eyes as he stared at the ground.  "I'm sorry, about everything."

A strange warmth rushed through me.  Something about how genuinely vulnerable he looked shook my entire being.

"I just...really wanted you to give me a chance all this time, but I went about it the wrong way."  He encased me into another bone-crushing hug.  "But I want to make up for it."

I felt a thud in my chest,  probably from fear that he might hurt me.

At that moment, the teacher walked in.  "Alright everyone, take your seats."  He noticed Bakugou's position, gawked for a second, and cleared his throat.  "Uh, Bakugou, let go of (L/n) and take your seat."

"I dare any of you extras to yank me off, I'll blast you into next week!"

He's back, kind of?

Nobody made a move to do anything, they were all frozen by the sight of Bakugou clamped onto me like a koala.

"I'll survive...somehow," I assured them, unsure myself how exactly I would do that.

For the entire rest of class, the boy clung onto me.  He had taken over the seat of the person who normally sat on my left and scooted the chair over so he can stay attached to me.  Though I reasoned for him to hold onto just my arm (since he wouldn't let go no matter how many times I asked), he hugged my waist with both of his arms, face buried in my neck.  I was just glad he left one arm for me to write notes with.

If this was just an act, he did a splendid job of keeping it up.  I thought he would've given up after an hour or two, but he stayed like that even after lunch until the end of the day.  Anytime anyone would even walk past us, he would glare at them until they scurried off.

It was super weird at first, but I got used to the arrangement somehow.  I hate to admit it, but I even felt comfort by his warmth.  His breath tickled my neck as his solid arms held me in a vice grip.  I found myself hoping this wasn't acting, and thanking whatever miracle made this happen.  This was never going to happen again, I might as well enjoy it for now.

.

"Back off, you damn Deku!"  He bares his teeth at the cowering Midoriya, still attached to me at the hip.

I sigh, finally fed up with this whole ordeal.  "Midoriya, I'll handle this, I'll call later."

The poor broccoli boy nods and scampers away from us.  Bakugou insists on not letting go until I'm home safe, even when I repeated that I live in the opposite direction as him.  He won't even let Midoriya near me.

I lead us both over to a bench outside of school.  I'm still not convinced that this isn't an act, but I might as well try to talk to him after the incident last week.  "Get off," I order, scooting over to one side of the bench.  When he doesn't obey, I add, "I wanna talk, so I need to see your face."

After a brief moment of hesitation, he eases off my body, rolling up to sit facing me with a leg propped up on the seat.  A dumb smile is on his face.

God, that still freaks me out.  I stare at him calculatingly.  He hasn't said a word to me the whole day, only barking at other students as he holds onto me.  I want answers.  "You're sure this isn't some stupid revenge plot to get back at me?"

He shakes his head, propping his arm up on the seat and resting his head there.  His wordless, lovestruck stare probing me.

I sputter, "Why are you acting this way then?"

"I like you."

I almost choke at his quick response, my chest throbbing again.  "S-Stop looking at me that way, I can't take you seriously!  I admit, it's freaking me out!"

"My feelings freak you out?" he says sweetly, brushing the side of my face softly.

I slap his hand away, "You don't have feelings for me, just drop the act already!"

His smile disappears.  "It's not an act, I'm being serious."  Hurt laces his voice.

I cross my arms over my chest.  "Yeah, well, it's very hard to take you seriously when you've been a heartless, pompous, mean jerk for all of middle school."

Bakugou's eyes downcast and his arm falls into his lap.  "I...I don't know how else to show how I feel."  Raw emotion drips from his eyes as he bites his lip, almost like he's gathering his thoughts.  "I act like a jerk because...  I just feel so pressured.  Everyone expects so much of me just because my quirk is so strong."  A dark chuckle emits from him, "Even my mom has ingrained it in me that I need to be strong so I don't burden anyone with being weak.  So I've been projecting my frustrations onto everyone else.  Deku is just the easiest person to pick on because he's the weakest person, he has no quirk!  And I'm just self-centered because I have to tell myself that I'm strong or else...I might slip.  Call it an inferiority complex, I guess."

I won't lie, I didn't go into this expecting a therapy session.  Part of me does sympathize with him, but the rational side of me is still skeptical of this entire monologue being an act.  I wouldn't put it past him for thinking up such an elaborate plan in a week.  And none of it excuses him for telling Midoriya to kill himself.  "Not that I don't believe you, but so what?" I blurt out.

He grabs my hand in both of his, eyes fully emotional and staring into mine.  "I like you, (Y/n).  I see how kind you are to everyone else, how you've stayed by Deku and supported him this entire time.  I admire you.  You're the kind of person who I know would become a great hero because you always know just what to say to people to make them feel better, not to mention you're so badass too.  And...in a way, there's something in me that wants you to care about an idiot like me, too."

Tightness tugs in my chest.  Damn it, he needs to stop being so emotional, I can't handle it.  "I want to help you, Katsuki, but what you said to Midoriya crossed a line.  I can't overlook that."

His head drops onto our joined hands and his body starts shaking.  "Damnit!" he grits out, "I can't believe I've done so much wrong that the person I like can't even forgive me."

I shut my eyes, not wanting to see him cry.  "Katsuki-"

Bakugou's head snaps up and takes my head between his hands.  "Do you even have the smallest feeling for me?"  His red orbs swim in tears.

A soft spot in my heart persuades me to gently rub the wet trails off his cheeks.  "I'm...not sure."  I won't lead him on, I really don't know how I feel anymore.  It's that I hate him, I don't like the things he says or does.

"Help me, (Y/n)," he practically begs, "I'll become a better person, I promise, but I need you to guide me, please."

This sudden magnitude of emotion other than anger disorients me.  Is this something he's kept locked away somewhere in the recesses of his mind?  I absently nod in agreement against some of my better judgement.

His shaking form steadies as he stares me down quietly.  "Can I...kiss you?" he whispers out of the blue.

My lips slightly part and my eyes widen as he leans into me, softly pressing his mouth against mine.  Our kiss is innocent, as if time just stood still and washed a warm glow on us.  My stomach flips weightlessly, and I gently grip one of his wrists to ground me.  He pulls away just for a moment, letting us linger in the moment and sensation of one another.

His eyes flutter open, facing me with the same loveliness he's showed me all day, before confusion suddenly dawns on him, and then his cheeks color red and he pulls away, almost retreating to the other edge of the bench.

I blink, not sure what just happened, but the tumbling in my abdomen still present.  "Uh...Bakugou...?"

The boy doesn't even want to face me.  "Did I really just do that?" he mutters to himself, the raspy growl that's more characteristic of him returning.

My heart sinks.  "Do you-?"

"Hey, don't look so upset," he glares at me before flushing again.  "I...somehow...know everything I did...  It was me...but it wasn't...really me."

"But everything you said-"

He growls and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away from me.  "Everything I said was true!  I just... I'm surprised I did it, and I was such a pansy about it."

I roll my eyes.  He's back, for real this time.  "Well, if that's the case, I won't hold you accountable-"

"Wait," Bakugou sighs, running a hand through his hair.  "I stand by everything I said, even the whole...thing...about you helping me."  It almost hurts him to say it.

I fold my arms over my chest and stand up.  "You don't have to force yourself to be good if you don't want to.  Things can go back to the way they were."

"I don't want it to!" he yells.  "I'll work at being less of an idiot if it means...that you'll...go out with me."

I examine him, all red-faced and uncomfortable, unable to look me in the eyes.  "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

He stands up and finally garners the courage to look at me again.  "I'm willing.  I'll try hard, I promise."

After thinking it over a moment, I relax my figure and place a kiss on his cheek.  "That's your reward for consciously admitting that you have a problem."

Bakugou's eyes bulge out of his head and I have to suppress my chuckles.  "Will there be more rewards?" he mumbles.

"Only if you really try."  I lean forward, catching him off guard and finally letting out a small fit of laughter.  "You know for most of the day, you were hanging onto me like I was you handbag, now you're shying away from me."

He scratches his burning neck.  "Hey, that wasn't me."

"It was a you that probably showed your deepest darkest wants," I tease, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Sh-Shut up, don't be so smug about it!"  He lightly shoves me away, digging his hands into his uniform pants pocket.  "You're the one asking for it because you liked it, stupid."

"Ah-ah," I hold up a finger like a teacher reprimanding a kindergardener.  "First thing is for you to stop calling people names."

He groans.  "Fine.  (Y-Y/n)."  His cheeks color all over again.

I slip my hand in his and his blush intensifies.  "Was that so hard to do?"

"Shut up," he mumbles softer this time.

He's a fixer-upper, he's still got a lot to learn, but hopefully, he'll get there eventually.

[ghostsray]

danny grows baby fangs

truce gift for @phantomofprocrastination!! happy new decade :)

word count: 3,080

____

Being friends with a rival ghost has its pros and cons. The pros are that Danny can call on them whenever he needs help fighting a bigger, badder ghost. The cons are that this does nothing to stop his ally from attacking him whenever they like.

He was awoken in the dead of night (pun intended) by his ghost sense escaping his throat. He quickly transformed and flew outside, preparing to fight a ghost wreaking havoc. Instead, he was met by Johnny, who asked for a spar.

Danny sighed and ran a hand across his face. "Really? You couldn't have picked a better time for this?"

"Of course not!" Johnny delightfully replied. "All the humans are asleep, so you don't have to worry about hurting any of them."

That was...surprisingly thoughtful. Still didn't make it any less annoying. Danny fixed him with a glare and said, "Johnny. I'm half human. I also need to sleep."

The ghost's eyes widened, and his mouth formed a circle. "Oh."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Can you go back to the GZ so I can get back to bed?"

Unfortunately, he already knew the answer he would receive when Johnny's face twisted into a wicked smirk. "But you're already here, aren't you? And I do have some energy I need to let out..."

"Dude, I swear..."

Danny didn't have time to finish his threat because the biker ghost was already sending his shadow to attack him. Inwardly, Danny groaned. Here he thought that he was making good progress this year in befriending his previous enemies, but it turns out they're too trained in Hating Danny On Sight to fully stop torturing him.

Danny blocked another swing from the shadow. He formed a ball of ectoplasm in his hands and used its light to fend the phantom off. As he watched it retreat, he bared his teeth at Johnny with a growl, trying to convey clearly that he wasn't happy.

For some reason, Johnny had the opposite reaction. He held up a hand to hold his shadow back and stared at Danny. "Wait, do that again," he said.

Danny frowned, confused. "Do what?"

"Bare your teeth."

Danny was Hella Confused, but he did as he was asked. Johnny clapped his hands and laughed.

"You're growing baby fangs!"

"...What."

The older ghost got closer until he was floating right in front of Danny's face. He pointed at the halfa's mouth, and his face adopted the kind of expression Jazz would make if she saw a baby animal. "Right there," the ghost said with a smile, "the cutest, widdwest baby fa--"

All of a sudden, a light enveloped Johnny, and he looked down to see the halfa sucking him into a Fenton thermos. "Hey! Not fair!" he whined, his voice shrinking as he went in.

"Sorry, but you deserved it," Danny spoke into the cylinder before he closed it.

He sunk from his spot in the air until his boots touched the ground. As soon as he did, he thought about what Johnny said. Now that he noticed, his gums were hurting. When he touched them with his tongue, he felt something sharp growing among his teeth. What did Johnny say? Fangs?

Danny looked at the building sitting across from his home. The lights indoors were all turned off, and the windows perfectly reflected the street and Danny on it. Danny let himself hover an inch off the ground and floated toward the glass. Once he got close enough, he studied his reflection.

Over the years, his ghost form had changed into something a bit more...ghostly. Before, the only parts of his appearance that changed were his eye and hair colors. Now, his hair became wispy, his skin grew tinted green, and even the freckles that had long ago faded from his human skin now literally glowed in ghost form.

Danny ignored these details. (He especially ignored how uncomfortable he felt seeing himself look less and less human.) Instead, he opened his mouth and focused on the trait Johnny pointed out to him.

Sure enough, two small, white points were growing from where his canine teeth should be. Danny stared. Were those really going to grow into fangs? Honestly, he's not sure why he was surprised. Pretty much every ghost he knew had fangs. Even Vlad did, and he's a halfa too.

He grinned at his reflection, and the reflection grinned back, showing off his brand new pair of fangs. Danny tried to imagine what the would look like on him once they grow, replacing the small points with something longer and sharper.

This was a mistake.

Suddenly the image before him seemed eerily familiar. Wispy hair, almost like fire. Greenish skin bordering on teal. Growing muscles underneath his jumpsuit. And fangs.

The grin was gone from Danny's face, but the reflection still smiled. Since when had its eyes turned red?

Danny took a shaky step back.

It was him.

The thermos slipped from his hands with a clunk. He gulped.

He was turning into him.

Fire entered Danny's nose. Fire, and the smell of burning flesh. He whipped around, eyes out of focus. The Nasty Burger. It was gone. The flames licked the sky and danced on where the building once stood.

His family. His friends. He couldn't save them.

"No," he softly said, as if that could erase the scene before him.

He dropped onto his knees on the pavement. The smoke stung his eyes and filled his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

"No," he repeated, gasping and gripping onto his hairs. "No, no, no."

His eyes fell on the thermos next to him. The metal surface reflected Danny's face, but it wasn't the face he saw in the mirror yesterday. It was his face from tomorrow. Red eyes, wispy hair, and grinning at him with long, sharp fangs.

An ecto-blast shot past his ear, jolting Danny back to reality. He looked up, his eyes finally focusing on someone standing over him...someone wearing a teal jumpsuit and red goggles...his mom?

But he saw her die, didn't he? There was the explosion, and...and she was blasted apart like everyone else...and then...oh, right.

It felt like he was finally waking up. The air around him was clear. He wasn't in front of the Nasty Burger, he was in front of his own house. And even if he was there, the restaurant would still be standing. The explosion never happened. Clockwork erased that timeline.

His family was still alive. Maddie was still alive.

A fact that helpfully made itself apparent by the gun she was pointing at him.

"Why are you doing that?" his mother asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Doing what?" he replied.

"Pretending to cry."

Danny touched his cheeks. Was he really crying? Sure enough, his gloves came back wet.

"Answer me, phantom," Maddie's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and bitter.

Danny let his hands fall onto his lap and gulped. "I'm not pretending."

"Of course you are," Maddie stated matter-of-factly. "Ghosts can't shed genuine tears. After all, it's not like they can feel--"

"Yes, they can," Danny suddenly snapped. "They feel! All they do is feel! That's why they're aggressive. Not because they lack emotion, but because they're created from it! Not that it matters to you, since you never listen to what I say."

Maddie's jaw dropped. As soon as the words left Danny's mouth, he knew it was out of character for him. Phantom was a smooth ghost who only spoke to tell bad puns and mock his enemies. He never snapped at anyone like that. A part of him felt ashamed for yelling at his mother, but he wasn't in the mood to feel guilty about it.

He averted his eyes and wiped at his tears. Man, he must have looked pathetic. Why was Maddie even out here? Of course, he had forgotten that his parents had almost as little sleep as he did. She was probably pulling an all-nighter working on some new invention to kill him when she noticed the ghost having a breakdown outside their house.

Danny tried to ignore the embarrassment he felt and pushed himself to his feet. If Maddie noticed the way he shook as he pulled himself up, she didn't comment on it. He took a deep breath. The smell of fire still lingered in his nose.

"Never mind," he said, not looking at her as he spoke. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you tonight." He turned away and prepared to take flight, but a hand suddenly gripped at his wrist, and he turned back to see Maddie holding on to him.

"Wait," she said. After a moment of hesitation, she let go and...lowered her gun? "Let's assume I believe what you said, about ghosts feeling emotion. Why are you crying?"

Danny had to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming. Talking and not shooting? That was new. He must have stared at her for a long time in surprise, because she frowned and urged, "Well?"

He blinked and looked down. "It's nothing."

"So you are faking?"

"What? No!"

"Then what is it?"

He bit his lip. How could he even begin to explain it? Hey, no biggie, but I sort of saw an alternate timeline where I went evil and killed you, which happened a long time ago but apparently I'm not as over it as I thought. Yeah, no. Instead, he asked, "Why do you care?"

He looked up and saw something soften in her face. Her brows knitted, but in an I'm-willing-to-hear-you kind of way, just like the days in his childhood when she sat next to him in bed, ready to soothe him as he woke up crying from another nightmare. It made him meet her eyes, forgetting for just a moment that they were supposed to be enemies. She was not Maddie the ghosthunter, but Mom.

Then the illusion broke when she said, "With how much power you have, it is my duty as a ghosthunter to make sure you dont step out of line. Anything that would cause you to act differently from usual should concern me."

His chest crumpled. Of course she didn't care, and why would she? He was a ghost. This was nothing more than another duty for her as a ghosthunter.

He tried not to show his disappointment, but it must have shown anyway because Maddie asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," he lied. "Of course not."

She sighed. "Of course not." She crossed her arms and turned away, then muttered under her breath, "I don't know why I thought I could help a ghost. I can't even help my own children."

Danny guessed he wasn't meant to hear that last part, but he did. He stared at her incredulously and asked, "What?"

She stiffened, then quickly said, "Nothing. I don't need to tell you about my family life."

He took one step toward her, then immediately took a step back when she aimed her gun on him. Right, he forgot she didn't holster that.

"I mean it," she warned. "This isn't about me."

He stumbled and fell onto the pavement. Maddie stood over him, still aiming her weapon at him. Were they not just having a moment? Obviously not. Maddie Fenton was never one to have moments with a ghost.

"Really, quit breathing. I know you don't need to do that."

Danny only then noticed how hard his chest was rising and falling. He gulped. "I can't keep doing this," he suddenly spoke.

The hand holding the gun faltered. "Doing what?"

His eyes stung, but he held back his tears because he knew she would tell him he was faking again, and he didn't want that to happen. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the red goggles that covered hers and said, "Fighting you, being your enemy, until the day you die."

Maddie remained calm as she said, "You're a ghost. I'm a ghosthunter."

"That doesn't mean we have to fight." He gestured between them and added, "I mean, we were just having a conversation. At least until you pulled out your gun again."

"Is that why you brought me out here?"

"I didn't. You came on your own."

"You were acting strange," she replied. "You still didn't answer why."

His core thrummed against his chest as he continued to stare into her gun. Why are you crying? Because he's still scared of becoming his evil self. Because he doesn't want to hurt his family. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw their scorched remains, and he doesn't want to be the person to cause that to happen.

"I don't want to be a bad ghost," he answered.

Maddie tilted her head. "That can't be it," she spoke in her snobby scientist voice. "Ghosts dont have a sense of right and wrong--"

"Would you stop making assumptions about ghost morals? I'm the ghost here, not you."

That was the second time he snapped at her. He tore his eyes away from her, instead choosing to glare at the street. Maddie was quiet. "...You're serious," she finally said.

"Yeah, no shit."

She lowered her gun...just slightly. "That still doesn't explain things," she said. "Why the sudden reaction? The tears?"

His eyes landed on the thermos that lay a few feet away, reflecting his green skin and wispy hair and glowing eyes on its surface. His gums hurt.

Danny shut his eyes and gulped back bile. "I...I did something bad, okay?" he said, his voice small. "I thought I could forget about it, but I can't. I--I don't want it to happen again."

A moment of silence hung between them, broken only by the soft whistle of the breeze. He hoped she wouldn't ask, but he knew the question was coming anyway. "What did you do?"

His hands shook. He gripped them into fists, but that did nothing to ebb his emotions.

"Phantom," Maddie urged. "What did--"

"I killed people!" The tears escaped his eyes, which opened to reveal toxic green irises that shone brighter than the streetlights. He faced Maddie, his expression contorted in guilt and pain and Ancients why do his gums still hurt as he cried, "I killed people. They died, and it was because of me. I killed them."

He waited for her to get angry at him, to shoot him. Instead, she gave him a reaction he didn't expect.

"Now I know you're faking," she said, lowering her gun completely.

He blinked away his tears. "What?"

"Feeling guilt over someone's death? Ghosts can't care about that." She held up a hand and continued, "Before you argue again about whether ghosts have morals or not, I'm talking about the concept of life and death. You're dead, so you shouldn't be able to bother over whether others are, too."

Danny sat back and let those words sink in. Was that why his alternate self had seemed so heartless? He had removed his humanity, and along with it, any sympathy he had left toward life. If Danny had fully died in that portal, would he...?

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that. "But I don't want others to suffer the same fate I did," he argued.

"That's not what other ghosts seem to think," Maddie pointed out. "Even if your obsession was saving others, it should be easy for you to get over a few deaths after some time has passed. It simply doesn't make sense for you to care." She crouched until she was at eye level with him and inquired, "So tell me, Phantom. What makes you so different?"

"...I don't know." What else could he say without revealing his secret? He truthfully told her, "I never asked to be this way."

She scrutinized him, as if looking at him could somehow reveal the truth. After a while, she sighed and stood up...and holstered her gun.

"I can never understand you," she said. "You're just...so human. Your emotions, your thinking, your morals, even your appearance."

He perked up. "You think I look human?"

She looked at him as if he just said the dumbest thing on the planet. "Of course you do," she answered. "Even if you've changed since your first appearance, the change isn't nearly as much as it should be for such an increase in power as yours. Other ghosts your power level would look much more monstrous. But not you. You may grow claws and fangs, but you can still pass as a person."

Danny was dumbfounded. Here he was worried that he might be losing his humanity, and now he was proven wrong by none other than one of the world's leading ghost researchers, his own mother. He thought that was as much relief as he could feel, and then she said,

"You're not a bad ghost, Phantom."

He bit the insides of his mouth to keep himself from crying again because dammit he's already cried enough times this night already. Instead, he blurted out the thing that was on his mind in that moment, which was, "You're not a bad mom."

Mom faltered. For a second, Danny worried that he screwed up. He should not have said that, now she's going to try shooting him again and then everything that just happened would be a waste... But she didn't do that. He couldn't read her face well from underneath her mask, but something crossed her face. She observed him silently, and he squirmed, wondering what she saw. She opened her mouth to say something, but then changed her mind and turned away without a word, leaving the halfa behind as she went back indoors.

Danny sat in the middle of the empty street, watching his mom leave. What just happened? He wasn't sure, but Mom just left without leaving him an injury, which he didn't think could be possible. The world lit up around him as the sun rose from the east.

Shit, he had to return home before someone could walk into his room and find it empty. He fumbled around until he caught the thermos, then paused to look at his reflection. He saw...himself. No evil alternate self. No monster from the future. Just Danny Phantom, existing in the present.

He grinned, showing off his brand new pair of fangs.

Now that he thought about it, having fangs sounds pretty cool.

[alleycat97]

Merry Christmas

Queen B

Chloe x MC (Bea)

Tag list: @samanthadalton @paolaqueen5580 @fundamentalromantic @kwaj05 @penda-bear @kamilahsayeet2063

Christmas time at Belvoire was always an event. It would be Bea’s first Christmas in New York and it was only a few days left before winter break. Most students would return home but Bea decided to stay back and do some sightseeing with her time off.

Christmas at an Ivy League school was incredible, mainly because nearly everyone was loaded and all the gifts were ridiculous. There had been some sort of Christmas party every night, and everyone hopped around. Being a Zeta meant you had to be at every party to keep status, but for this one night, Chloe wanted to spend it with her girl Bea. She just picked the night of the talent show to do it.

“You’re throwing away tradition for farmsville!?” Poppy scolded Chloe.

“I leave in two days Poppy! I won’t get to see her for an entire month!” Chloe snapped back.

“I don’t see it. Why must you waste your time with that social reject Chloe. You can do much better.”

Chloe sighed, it was always like this with Poppy. Nothing or no one was ever good enough. Chloe always did as told but she wouldn’t budge on this, she was tired of being a pushover. “No Poppy, im not going to the show. Bea is coming here to have a movie night and that’s that.”

Poppy’s jaw hit the floor as Chloe confidently walked back upstairs and slammed her door. Bea was ruining her friend.

“Hey Veronica?” Chloe said walking through their shared bathroom and into her room.

“Yeah?” Veronica responded pausing her stream.

“Can you give me a hand real quick?”

“Yea sure. Lemme end this live and I’ll be right there.”

Chloe squealed and ran back into her room, waiting for V. Veronica wasn’t too far behind and entered the room, leaning against the doorframe waiting for instruction.

“Ok, you remember how you told me to get Bea something she would love for Christmas?” Chloe asked happily.

“Is it in that big ass box? Jesus Chloe that thing is bigger than a car.”

“Not yet. That’s why I need you. This is my gift.” Chloe climbed inside the box and closed herself in it. After she stopped rustling around she hollered from inside. “I can’t figure how how to wrap it if I’m inside. Would you mind?” Chloe asked in all seriousness.

Veronica doubled over in laughter agitating Chloe who was waiting patiently inside. Chloe finally popped back up,

“What’s so funny?”

“Chloe!” Veronica tried to breathe. “You’re telling me your gift to Bea, is you?”

“Yeah? You said something she will love? I know she loves me so I figured it would be the perfect gift.” Chloe pouted.

“Oh Chlo, that’s so sweet but I meant something like a necklace, or perfume. Something to show your love to her. She already loves you, gifting yourself is just silly. Not to mention dangerous.”

“I knew I would screw up.” Chloe climbed out of her box and face planted on her bed. Veronica walked over to rub her back.

“Didn’t you get her anything? She loves flannels and shoes.” Veronica tried.

“Nooooo. I was so sold on the me idea I didn’t think to buy anything. I’m screwed she’s gonna be here in an hour and I’ve got nothing.”

“Just tell her the truth sweetie. Christmas isn’t always about presents. It’s about being with loved ones and showing your love with each other. You have this killer movie date planned, I’m sure Bea will love it.”

“Yeah maybe. I better get ready.”

“That’s the spirit.” Veronica cheered.

Nearly an hour later the doorbell rang and Poppy was the one to answer it.

“Ugh what do you want loser?” Poppy greeted Bea.

“Ummm rude? I’m here for my date with Chloe.” Bea said forcing her way into the house trying not to drop her perfectly wrapped present.

“Oh yeah. The same Chloe who will miss the Belvoire Christmas Talent Show because of you. Thanks a lot, now I’m down a dancer.”

“Sorry not sorry? Look at it this way, without me there, you might actually win something this year.” Bea challenged.

“Whatever, just get out of my sight and don’t touch anything.” Poppy said storming off.

Bea made her way up to Chloe’s room, only to be intercepted by Veronica in the foyer.

“Hey Bea, a word?”

“Sup V?”

“I’m actually suppose to stall, Chloe isn’t quite ready yet. I just wanted to say I’m really glad you two are together.”

“Aw thanks V.”

“I mean it Bea. You make Chloe so happy and she deserves it. She is usually miserable with Poppy and her home life sucks being the middle child. You’ve given her an out and she’s flourishing. Just take care of her alright?”

“Chloe and her happiness is my priority, I’ll sacrifice anything for her.” Bea said wholeheartedly.

“I know you will.” V smiled, “Looks like times up, you girls have fun.”

Chloe popped out into the hall with a smile before nearly tackling Bea with a hug and a flurry of kisses, “Sorry I got tied up. I couldn’t decided on which pajamas I wanted.”

“So you decided to wear mine?” Bea laughed looking her girlfriend over.

“These are mine?” Chloe protested.

“Chloe, I left those here for when I came over, you don’t even like Star Wars!”

“Hmmm well I’m already wearing them. Now come on! The movies starting!”

Bea always pictured this moment, snuggled in bed with her lover a week away from Christmas sharing kisses, and watching hallmark movies. Now what she got wasn’t exactly what she pictured, a heated aggressive make out session with her hands cuffed to the headboard while Die Hard was playing in the background.

After the credits had finished and both girls regathered their stamina, Bea dug up her present to Chloe that had been buried under all the clothes.

“I think it’s time to open presents babe.” Bea said handing the box to Chloe. “Merry Christmas.”

Chloe started to open the box but couldn’t, which started to concern Bea.

“Chlo? Is something wrong?”

Chloe started to cry naturally at the guilt, “I’m so sorry Bea. I can’t accept this.”

“Why not? Chloe? What wrong sweetie?” Bea begged.

“I forgot to get you a gift....” Chloe trailed off.

“Ok? And?”

“You’re not mad?” Chloe sniffled.

“Well no. Chloe it’s ok really, it’s just a gift. We get each other stuff all the time.”

“But this is Christmas! I tried Bea.” Chloe explained what she intended to be Bea’s gift and the confusion she received from Veronica and Bea understood completely. Chloe had a heart that outweighed a small sedan but sometimes...she thought about things too....literally.

Bea reached over and raised Chloe’s face to meet her own. Slowly raking her thumb over the girls soft cheeks to wipe the tears away, “Chloe, I don’t need an object from you to show your love. All I need is you, right here, right now. Just being with you will always be better than any gift you can buy at a store I promise you. Now open that damn box or else I will.”

Chloe tried to fight back a smile as she undid the bow and ripped the paper away exposing a small box. She opened the lid to reveal a beautiful necklace.

“Oh Bea it’s beautiful! I love the little penguin pennant.”

“He’s got your initials on the back and his eyes are made of your gemstone.” Bea added pointing out its features.

“Oh thank you so much Bea I love it. Help me put it on?” Chloe asked holding the necklace out to Bea.

Chloe moved her hair out of the way and Bea placed the necklace around her neck and clipped it on in the back.

She slowly slid forward as she wrapped her arms down around Chloe’s chest. Lips playfully nipping at her ear, “Merry Christmas Love.”

[danganronpa-21]

Naegiri Week Day 6 - Date

I did it!! I know I’m pretty late, but hey, Eon said submissions still count so I’m still going lol (thank you for the patience). This one’s a bit on the longer side and contains switching POVs, but it’s pretty easy to follow as each first line introduces either Makoto or Kyoko by name. I’ve been agonizing over it for awhile now, so hopefully you get some enjoyment out of it. If not, at least take some pleasure in the fact that I had to edit out some of my use of the word “smile” from the original draft, for I used the word 13 separate times. This is why we draft, kids. Anyway, no warnings to issue this time around.

I’ll be back to bring you Festival sometime soon. Thanks so much for your support and attention!

______________

“I’m excited for our big night tonight, Kyoko!”

Her partner’s words echoed like a horrid earworm in her mind as she jotted down her most recent case notes. They’d been vibrating around in her head since the moment he uttered them; they plagued her all throughout the car ride to the Hope’s Peak building. Even now, while he was off dealing with a misbehaving teacher case, she could not get his statement to stop pestering her. She had to be the worst girlfriend in the world to have forgotten something so important as to be classified as “big night”. Simply imagining the disappointment on Makoto’s face if she confessed to not knowing the significance of the date made her heart drop. She was never the best at remembering anniversaries and birthdays without much of a reminder; her schedule was far too busy to help her recall every significant thing. What was peculiar about this situation was that Kyoko didn’t even have the benefit of being able to check her schedule. Normally, she marked off all of their important relationship milestones on their calendar so she wouldn’t forget… but for whatever reason, today’s date wasn’t in there. No red ink scribbling circles around sloppily scrawled words, no little star stickers that her boyfriend got her into the habit of using. Just a dotting of blue ink to tell her that she had a dentist appointment the following day. Her past self refused to even give an inkling of a hint.

 Still, if there was one thing that Kyoko knew best about herself, it was that she was stubborn. A stubborn detective, at that! There was no way that she would allow herself to be bested by a simple mystery such as this. If she didn’t have any clues of her own to work with, she’d just have to start off somewhere else. Of course, what else was better to start off with than witnesses? That was how Aoi came into the picture.

Well, it would be, if she weren’t several minutes late. The tardiness was admittedly a bit strange given that she had a free period, but it wasn’t super out of character for Aoi. She tended to get so excited and ahead of herself that sometimes she would almost miss work meetings entirely. Kyoko couldn’t count the number of times on both hands that she’d come rushing in to a staff meeting over twenty minutes late. All she hoped was that she would get there sooner than Makoto would get back. To have him catch them in the middle of this discussion could be mortifying. She feared she might break his heart if she let him know that she forgot. A quick and easy bit of advice or clues from Aoi would really be ideal.

 She massaged her temples with one hand and leaned over to poke her phone awake with the other. 9:03 A.M. Aoi was officially thirteen minutes late, and in all honesty, Kyoko wondered if she should start to worry. What if Makoto had intercepted her or something? Or was she perhaps the troublesome teacher he intended to deal with? The latter seemed unlikely, but she didn’t want to rule out any possibilities. Ugh, all of this would be so much easier if she knew what Makoto had been alluding to in the first place! If it hadn’t been for Aoi arriving almost as if she were on cue, Kyoko might have given into her desire to bash her head into the desk.

 “Sorry I’m late, Kyoko!” The swimmer’s voice was just as chipper as ever, and her forehead just as sweaty. Did her morning jog run long or something? “I got a little caught up. You know how it is.”

 Kyoko sighed, doing her best to pretend to be less disgruntled than she actually was. “Indeed, I do. Still, I should thank you for coming on such short notice.”

 Aoi’s ponytail swung back and forth as she strutted to the seat across from Kyoko and plopped herself down; the manner of it all reminded her of being told to sit more lady-like by her grandfather. She tried not to scowl at the thought of him. They had been through a bit of a rough patch lately. “Of course! Anything to help one of my favourite girls.”

 The taller woman laughed softly, reaching up to brush some stray hands of hair away from her face. “I am quite glad to hear you say that, Asahina-san. You see, I have something to ask you.”

 Almost instantly, Aoi folded her arms across her chest. She turned her nose up at the detective jokingly. “You may not ask me anything unless you call me by first name. You know that’s okay!”

 She let out a half-amused sigh and did her best not to show her pleasure on her face. “Aoi, if I ask you something, do you promise not to tell Makoto that I asked?”

 Aoi’s eyes widened; her body suddenly shot forward with interest. Normally, one might have reacted with a bit of apprehension over being asked to keep a secret from their friend’s paramour, but Aoi seemed to relish it. The smile that spread across her face all but proved it. Figures. Aoi probably expected to be asked about what he was thinking of doing for their next date night or something cute like that. “Ooh! What’s going on? What do you wanna know?”

 In any other situation, there would be lots Kyoko could ask. After all, Aoi was their one friend who was not only mutual, but a confidant. She wouldn’t be able to get the same information out of Yasuhiro and Toko that she could out of Aoi, and it was vice versa for Makoto. This wasn’t to say that she begged Aoi to regularly break Makoto’s trust, or that he did anything of that sort to her – it was just that the swimmer could tend to point either of them in the right direction. When Makoto struggled to ask Kyoko for a birthday present, he would tell Aoi and eventually she would tell Kyoko what he wanted. When Kyoko was too embarrassed to confess to her feelings to Makoto’s face, she would tell Aoi and she would encourage Makoto to move in the right direction to get her to open up. It definitely wasn’t a system of broken trust, but a little one that worked for them and kept things moving to their advantage. They could function without Aoi if they wanted to, but she enjoyed helping them along. She was perhaps the person most invested in their relationship apart from themselves… and maybe Komaru.

 Kyoko drummed her fingers on the desk absent-mindedly; somehow she found she would rather watch herself move than make eye contact with her friend. It must have something to do with her embarrassment over the whole not knowing the day thing, she assumed. “Aoi… do you know why today is significant in mine and Makoto’s relationship?”

 Aoi blinked, pressing a finger to her lower lip. “Ummm… no. Why is it significant? Did I miss something?”

 “It is not a rhetorical question. I am genuinely asking. Makoto asked me if I was excited for our special night this morning, and I haven’t the faintest idea what he meant.”

 “Oh! Uhhh…” the cogs in her mind seemed to turn slowly; her gaze darting around the room as if she would somehow find the answer there. It was such an artificial-looking thinking process, yet Kyoko found herself holding her breath as she awaited a response. “I… I dunno. He didn’t mention anything to me about tonight being special.”

 Kyoko let out a groan, throwing her head into her hands. “What am I going to do?! He’s expecting a perfect night, and I don’t have anything planned.”

 “Maybe… um…” she paused for but a second, “Throw on some lingerie and hope for the best?”

 The detective scowled at her. “Very funny. You know he and I aren’t… physically intimate.”

 “Aww, c’mon Kyoko-chan, don’t feel bad,” Aoi said, her arm darting across the desk to pry at Kyoko’s wrist, “I’m sure there’s gotta be someone who knows what Makoto’s all excited about.”

 “What if there isn’t? The last thing I want to do is hurt Makoto’s feelings. I cannot afford to make such a careless mistake.”

 “Well how do you know that it was you who made the mistake? Maybe he forgot what day it is, not you!”

 Somehow, that didn’t lift Kyoko’s spirits. Mostly because of how improbable it sounded. While Makoto tended to forget more trivial matters like whose turn it was to do the dishes, he never forgot important dates. Especially not when it came to their relationship. Based on what Aoi told her, he bought most of his anniversary and birthday gifts for her over three weeks in advance. Preparedness when it came to their relationship seemed to be his strong suit, quite unlike her. Without anything to show for the upcoming night, she would look like a selfish girlfriend.

 “While I respect that you are trying to cheer me up, Asahina-san, I seriously doubt that that’s the case. You know just as well as I do how diligent he is when it comes to our relationship,” her fingers somehow worked their way back to her temples, massaging them almost aggressively, “If anyone has forgotten anything, it is most certainly me.”

 Aoi’s eyes glittered with sympathy as she watched her friend, still trying to hold her arm. Kyoko imagined that she was mostly trying to pat her forearm, but had somehow settled for gripping her awkwardly. It was less comforting and more like she’d been caught in a trap; nevertheless, she decided to appreciate the sentiment behind it. “Please don’t be too hard on yourself, Kyoko-chan. Naegi-kun wouldn’t want you to do that, even if you forgot. I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s super sweet like that!”

 That is true, Kyoko thought to herself. If anything, Makoto would find it within himself to understand her perspective. Work had been incredibly busy for both of them lately, and they did have a lot of other friendship and familial obligations to attend to… Would it truly be so awful for her to have forgotten one measly little date? She couldn’t have the answer to that question. Nobody could. There were only so many circumstances in which that things could work out for her, and it all depended on how much value the date held. If it was something huge, like an anniversary, she would never forgive herself – even if Makoto did. However, should it have been something small, she figured that they would be able to brush it off and at least try to have a good time. Value determined everything, and of course it was on the list of things she didn’t know. All she had as a clue was that the date was special somehow.

 “I appreciate the optimism, but I just don’t think I can go through the rest of today without knowing what’s going on.” She sighed, doing her best to avoid pouting like a spoiled child. While there were several things that she would confess to hating, not knowing important things hung at the top. Probably somewhere around number two on her list of hated things, coming just below coriander. Blegh. “Is there anything else I can do to figure this out?”

 Aoi shrugged, still wearing that same signature smile of hers. “Why not try asking some of the others? Komaru-chan should be in helping Fukawa-san, maybe you could ask her for help. She’s his little sister, after all!” The swimmer tapped her chin. “I guess you could try Togami-kun, too, but I don’t know how nice he would be about it. I know you guys kind of like to rib each other.”

 ‘Like to rib each other’ was a sugar coating of the truth, but Kyoko supposed it encapsulated their relationship nonetheless. Byakuya was admittedly the last person she wanted to go to for help with this Makoto situation, yet the difficulty of it all gave her little choice in the matter. In fact, she considered it to be completely unavoidable.

 “I suppose you’re right there. I’ll see about talking to Komaru-chan about it first. If that fails,” one of her hands curled into a fist, “I will bite the bullet and confront Byakuya.”

 Aoi giggled softly, finally releasing Kyoko’s arm and hopping to her feet. “That’s the spirit! Now, was that all you needed, Boss?”

 For her friend’s sake, Kyoko did her best to grin a little. Though she herself hadn’t been able to help, Aoi provided her own information that would make this anxiety-inducing task much easier. Kyoko surely owed her for that. “Yes. Sorry to call you into my office for so little, but I was getting restless. Is there any way I can compensate you for your troubles?”

 Aoi waved it off. “Don’t be silly, Kyoko-chan! We’re friends, I’m here to help you any time you need it,” amusement tugged at her lips, “That being said, though… if you have to compensate me… mind buying me a donut on your next coffee run?”

 Kyoko shook her head, trying not to show how much Aoi’s request made her laugh. Of course she’d ask for a donut. “That is… doable, yes. I presume you want the Boston Kreme again?”

 The swimmer’s face lit up with glee, her hands clapping together excitedly. “Oh god, please. I haven’t had one in soooo long. They’re so yummy.”

 Kyoko could agree with that statement. It hadn’t been until her time in Hope’s Peak that she first tried a Boston Kreme donut, but she found it to be quite a hit on her tastebuds. Definitely on her list of favourites, and Aoi’s too. The girl once joked that that was how she knew that they would be good friends. “Sounds good to me. You are dismissed, Aoi-chan. Have a good day.”

 “Thanks, Kyoko-chan! You too!”

 With that, the swimmer spun on her heel and wandered towards the door, sending herself off with a wave to her friend before closing the door behind her. God, what relief Aoi’s presence had been. Of course, Kyoko could only notice it now that she had left. Stress settled back into her the moment she departed, bearing down on her like a blue whale. Though she knew she still had the hope of Komaru and Byakuya’s assistance, doubt sprouted in her heart. What if they couldn’t help her? Oh, what would she do?

 She squeezed her eyes shut. The absolute last thing she wanted to think about the way Makoto would look when she eventually confessed to being clueless. His normally chipper expression would still remain on his face, but she would see it falter. The corners of his mouth would twitch down for a split second, the joy weakening without actually ever having to disappear. His shoulders would slump, and he would move to push a hand through his hair to make things seem more casual. He would want to show her that he was more relaxed about it than he actually was. She would be able to see the hurt cloud his eyes.

 Ugh. She didn’t want to think about that. Stealing one last long look at her paperwork, she sighed and pushed herself to her feet. If she was going to avoid the terrible, horrible fate of disappointing her boyfriend, she had better get a move on in talking to Komaru and Byakuya. The guidance committee’s not-as-problematic-as-stated student situation would have to wait.

 __________

 Makoto would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about his fiancée.

 He hadn’t been, when he’d woken up this morning. In fact, he’d been pretty excited to spend the day with her. The two of them planned this day for ages. From the blankets they would snuggle up with to the snacks they would eat, the couple made sure everything had its place. Makoto even promised her he’d make his famous popcorn-chocolate-marshmallow bars. It was tradition for their Dead Trial marathons, after all. Kyoko tended to say that it wouldn’t have felt like a proper marathon without them. Good snacks and cozy blankets were the best thing for a day inside watching their favourite show. All they had to do was get through their long day of work. That was how it seemed at the time, anyway. Now, Makoto didn’t feel so sure.

  Kyoko’s morning demeanour changed within an instant; the moment he made mention of the day caught her in a loop of seeming unease. Her expression crumpled, falling back into its neutrality. How funny, so many years ago he would never have seen her iron mask as a sign of worry. Just a sign of Kyoko being Kyoko. These days, though, he knew better than to think that. Any emotion she gave him would be better than the cold, hard stare. The mask hid fear, the face showed affection.

  His fingers tapped on the surface of the window ledge; eyes fixed intently on the world outside. He could see two students, both girls, hanging out around the fountain on what he presumed to be a date. One with black hair and the other with brown, grinning and giggling together. The dark-haired girl was trying to feed the other a spicy tuna roll, but it dropped from her chopsticks and bounced into the fountain. Her date threw her head back laughing at how clumsy the dark-haired girl was, forcing her face to turn rose-red. At any other time, he was sure he would have felt happy for them. Even if they were skipping class to have quality time, sometimes good romance was worth that kind of thing.

 He couldn’t deny that the sight of the girls made him think of Kyoko. At the end of everything, he hoped that the two of them would have a night like those two students were having. His heart ached at the image of the two of them sitting there, a foot apart and not touching at all. No blankets draped over them, no snacks placed in their laps, no emotion as they tried to enjoy their show. He would reach for his partner’s hand but she would scarcely respond, just staring almost blankly at the screen in front of her. Her leg would be bouncing up and down like a basketball, but when he asked, she would deny being nervous. It would be a torturous, awful night; neither of them would enjoy it the way they thought they would. Then, the two of them would creep off to bed, and she would sleep with her back turned to him. She wouldn’t even try to cuddle up in his arms like she usually did.

 His gaze flicked down to his watch. 11:49, it read. His little sister was running late. She had sent him a text asking to meet him outside of classroom 8-B, and somehow had not made a point of being there on time herself. He didn’t think it was too much to expect, given that she had been the one to ask that they meet in the first place. In some sense, he shouldn’t have been surprised. It was quite like Komaru to be flaky. Makoto loved his younger sister, he really did, but sometimes the girl was just trouble. 

 He let out a sigh as he watched the girls pluck the roll out of the fountain’s water, the sunlight beaming brightly on their smiling faces. He leaned on his hand, silently wishing he could be as carefree as they were. The headmaster was leagues away from being a high schooler, but when relationship communication issues like this happened, he felt like he was right back in it again. At the end of the day, he just hoped nothing was seriously wrong with Kyoko. He hated to think that something might be wrong, and she just hadn’t had the courage to tell him.

 “Hey! Makoto!”

 Finally. Komaru’s voice snapped him out of his worries as he turned his head to look at her coming down the hall. She held a stack of paper in her arms, and her hands were brutally smudged with ink. A pair of glasses rested on her nose. Figures. She asked him to meet her, and then got caught up in drawing her manga. That was so like her. Still, he pushed down his annoyance, cracking a small smile as he made eye contact with his baby sister.

 “Hey, Komaru,” he greeted, his hands resting on his hips, “I see you’re running late, as always.”

 Komaru’s tongue found its way out of her mouth before her words did. “I see you’re still a jerk, as always,” she huffed, quickly putting her flustered run into a full stop, “Thank you for coming, though.”

 “You’re more than welcome. You said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?” 

 Komaru’s fingers reached up to scratch at her cheek, the smile playing at her lips turning sheepish. Whatever she would say next, he knew he probably would not like it. It was all a sign that Komaru had either already made or intended to make trouble. Trouble that he would likely have to clean up, he might add. 

 “Okay, so like… I know you’ve told me before that you really don’t want me to meddle in your relationship with Kyoko-” 

 Makoto closed his eyes, the tips of his fingers digging in to his hips in an attempt to quell his frustration. “I don’t, and I really hope you’re about to tell me that you haven’t.”

The smile grew even more sheepish, prompting Makoto to groan. His palm hit his forehead before he even thought to make the motion himself. Why did she have to do this to him? Why couldn’t she just pretend to vomit every time they kissed, like a normal younger sister? 

 “Okay so like… I didn’t totally ruin anything or tell her anything bad, but she did come to me asking for advice on something,” Komaru confessed, shrugging her shoulders, “And I thought you should know that she’s worried about something.”

 “Do you know what it is?” He asked immediately, his eyes widening a bit. God, he hoped she came to tell him what Kyoko was worried about. It would make things so much easier for them. After all, if Kyoko wouldn’t tell him why she was acting weird, and he didn’t know, then Komaru would be the only bridge between the two of them. It wasn’t like Aoi had had anything to say when he’d initially asked her. He was running out of options.

 Komaru tittered awkwardly, clutching her inked papers a little more tightly. One could only hope that the ink was not fresh, lest it stain her suit jacket. It was pressed far too close to her body. “You see, about that, I do, but-”

 He blinked quickly, taking a few steps forward. Whatever it was, he needed to know, and he needed to know it well. “What is it?”

 She actually cringed as she spoke, wincing like she thought that her brother was going to smack her. “She told me I wasn’t allowed to tell you.”

 He hit the window ledge with his hand, wincing as pain shot through it. Maybe not the best idea, but dammit, he was pissed off. How could she give him a flicker of hope, only to take it away a minute later? That was just too cruel. “Ugh! Why would you say anything if you knew I wasn’t supposed to know?”

 “I came to give you a hint to point you in the right direction,” she whined, stomping her foot like it was their mother scolding her rather than him, “She said I can’t tell you, but I figured you had a right to know.” 

 He swallowed thickly, the crease between his brows suddenly feeling as deep as a chasm. His body fell strangely still as he waited for Komaru’s eventual reveal. Though she couldn’t tell him much, there had to be something more to this. Surely, he could ask just a few more questions. “Is it something bad?”

 “Well, uh… hard to say. It’s nothing really bad, but it might hurt your feelings a bit.”

  To no one’s surprise, that comment did little to soothe his persisting anxieties. If anything, it planted a seed of dread in his stomach. Not only was his partner clearly hiding something from him, she was now confirmed to be hiding something that would hurt his feelings if he knew. He bit his lip. 

 “How badly, do you think?” His voice left so much weaker than usual; the ache of what Kyoko hid from him this morning digging into his soul. If he thought his palms were sweaty before, they had gained some wetness now. “Like, do you think she’s gonna dump me?”

 Komaru shook her head frantically. “Definitely not. In fact, part of the reason why she’s upset is because she likes you so much. That’s the way it seemed, anyway.”

 Makoto sighed, his hand reaching to fidget with his watch. “Are you sure you can’t just tell me what it is and I’ll pretend to be surprised if she brings it up?” 

 “Sorry, big bro. No can do. We both know you’re an awful actor.” A twinge of a smirk pricked her face. “Still, try not to worry too much. I think you’ll be able to get it out of her eventually, she’s just… worried about it, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get too in over your head if you could avoid it.”

 “I appreciate that, Komaru. Thank you.” He paused. “Is there anything else you needed to tell me?”

 “Just that you’re a nerd.”

 “Oh, come on! What are you, eleven?”

 “Yeah, an eleven out of ten!” She exclaimed with a snort, incredibly pleased with what was at best a mediocre joke.

 Makoto rolled his eyes at his little sister. “It’s like you never left middle school.”

 __________

 Kyoko wanted nothing more than to repeatedly slam her head into a wall. Step one of her plan, gathering witnesses, had proven itself to be a total bust. Not only had she completely missed with Komaru, who had no idea what she was talking about — but she’d been screwed over with Byakuya, too. He had given her no clear answers about the date, and the jerk actually laughed at her when she confessed to not knowing the significance. Clearly, he wanted to take it as some victory to hold over her head. Proof of his superiority to her or something like that. She honestly didn’t know, and could not bring herself to care. She’d left his office in more than a bit of a huff, plunking herself down in her own chair much too harshly when she finally got back to her own space. It left her with a deep hole of disappointment in her stomach; one that she suppressed all afternoon as she plunged back into her paperwork. She stayed that way until lunchtime, the pit only serving to worsen when her boyfriend wandered in.

 “Come on, honey, you really should break for lunch,” Makoto said, shooting her that same smile that won the heart of anyone who saw it, “You’ve been at that work all day.”

 Her head flicked up from the boring scribblings of ink, eyes wide with surprise. Sure, she’d half-noticed that he entered the room, but hearing him was a completely different thing. Normally his voice and presence comforted her; it took weight off her shoulders on hard days. Today, on the other hand, made hearing it seem like she was getting smacked in the face with a tennis racket — vaguely painful and incredibly startling.

 “Oh,” she paused, blinking at him as if she didn’t quite believe he was real, “That time already, huh?”

 The luckster nodded cheerfully, glancing down at the two sleek black boxes he held in his arms. They were stacked one on top of the other, one marked with her initials and the other with his. Same as always, made as sweetly as always. She swallowed hard. Why did he have to be the perfect partner? It would certainly make her mess-ups a little easier to deal with if he would just screw up every once in a while. If he could just screw up majorly on something for once, it would be helpful.

 “Yup! Can’t say I blame you for forgetting, though. You almost forgot your lunch at home. Pretty hard to remember to eat without your food, y’know?” 

 Yes, her forgetting made sense. After Makoto brought up the big night, she lost all focus. From then on, all energy went into agonizing over what she’d been unable to recall. She must have left her bento sitting right on the counter, where he always put it after finishing the preparations. 

  Kyoko smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I guess it must have slipped my mind, with our big night and all,” it was a ploy for hints, and she wondered if it would work, “I was reviewing our plans so much that I didn’t even think about grabbing it.”

 To this, Makoto laughed. “Ever diligent, as always. I hadn’t realized that you had so many plans for it! Actually, that reminds me of something.”

 “Oh?” Kyoko feigned innocence, batting her eyelashes at him. “What is it?”

 “I was thinking that it might be a good idea to head to the store after work to pick up some stuff for tonight.” 

 “What kind of stuff?” She asked, knowing that the question would give her a little more without entirely selling her out to him. Minute by minute, she inched closer to figuring this out, and she couldn’t be more thrilled. Relief would wash over her in no time, if he would just be a good witness and comply.

 “You know, the usual for the night.” He answered with a shrug, pulling his phone out of his pocket. She could only presume that he was verifying his list. Oh, how she longed to snatch the phone out of his hands and read it all for herself. It was almost as if he was deliberately being cryptic. Her boyfriend was a wiggly salamander trying to slip out of her grasp. “I was thinking about picking up some ice cream for dessert, but I don’t know what flavour I should get.”

 Aha! A clue! A cryptic one, but still, it was a clue nevertheless. She fought off the urge to scribble it down on the precious paperwork she’d been buried in only a moment prior. A good detective should be able to commit such a fact to memory with ease, her grandfather told her once. Though she hated thinking about him, she supposed that he was right, especially considering the person she was interrogating was standing right in front of her.  

 “I’m sure that I could help you with that,” she giggled, giddy from having found a small clue, “I promise not to get stuck between black cherry and pralines and cream like I did last time.” 

 Makoto shook his head, grinning over the memory. The two of them must have spent an half an hour in that grocery store, bouncing between the pros and cons of each flavour. They had only been intending to pick it up for a simple treat night, yet Kyoko found herself paralyzed by indecision. The two of them had had such a horribly long day at that point, and she’d just wanted to settle down with the perfect ice cream. God, she would kill to have a night like that again. If she ever figured out what their plans were for their special night, she didn’t know if she could enjoy them. After all, she’d expended so much energy on figuring out what the plans would be that she might run out of energy before they even got there. 

 “I think you probably could, yeah. I’ll meet you here after school; is three-thirtyish okay?” 

 She nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

 “Great! Now that that’s settled, though… wanna go have a picnic in the Garden of Statues?”

 That had been where they left it in the office that day, a spark of hope bursting in Kyoko’s chest. Though she hadn’t been able to solve her boyfriend’s surprisingly difficult riddle right then, she was confident that she would be hot on its trail soon. She spent most of the rest of the day scribbling away at her paperwork until he came to meet her at three thirty-two. The couple were a pair of beaming faces, the two of them wandering into the nearest pharmacy/retail store in search of whatever goodies Makoto had on his list. Not that Kyoko knew what they were. In all honesty, she was a little surprised that that was even the place he wanted to go. Still, she appreciated the tip-off that it was not the most formal evening the two of them had ever had. Every hint was one she grabbed at with fervour. At this point, she needed every one she could get. The sand in the hourglass was running low.

 Even with the confirmation of the lack of formality, everything he had put in their box didn’t make sense. Salted caramel popcorn, shampoo, sponges, marshmallows, hand soap, tortilla chips, razor blades, hiyoko cakes, headache pills, chocolate, medicinal tea blends, calbee shrimp snacks, pretzels, wasabi peas, tissues… None of these things made any sense together. Separate the snacks from the household items and then maybe one could get something, but Makoto stated specifically that he was buying for their evening. Kyoko pressed her lips together, wondering whether he was just feeling snackish or if he genuinely needed these things. Part of her itched to ask him, but she worried that even that might blow her cover. Instead, she chose to quietly follow behind him, watching him continue to pluck things off the shelves. 

 “Is there anything you want apart from the ice cream, Kiri?” Makoto questioned, not meeting her gaze as his hands found a bag of pizza potato chips. Her tongue stuck out at the thought of them. They were his favourite flavour of chips, but she couldn’t stand them. Of course, it didn’t bother him any. He didn’t have to share. “You can have whatever you want. Sky’s the limit tonight!” 

 She forced herself to grin half-heartedly; the muscles in her face protested from the extra effort it took. She hoped he didn’t notice her picking at the studs of her gloves like they were a scab she could remove. “I don’t think there’s anything else I want. You go ahead and pick out whatever you would like.”

 It was only then that he twisted his head to look back at her, one eyebrow raised. Uh-oh, she thought. Must have awoken suspicion in him. “Are you sure?” 

 She nodded. “Positive. Go right on ahead.” 

 A frown carved its way into his expression. For a moment he opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, and then closed it just as promptly. He turned back towards their box and rearranged a few things as if nothing was wrong. That alone was enough to make her heart beat faster, and her breathing grow heavy. With how things were progressing, she risked actually managing to tear the silver studs from her gloves. 

 The silence persisted between the two of them for about a minute or so after Makoto rearranged their items; they wandered down a few more aisles before finally stopping in front of the frozen foods. Shivers shot through Kyoko as they walked. Unfortunately, her pencil skirt left her legs susceptible to the frigid air exuding off the freezers. She pushed herself up against him without thinking, hoping the proximity would allow her to thieve some of his warmth. 

 “Feeling a little chilly, Kyoko?” He snickered. 

 She nuzzled his shoulder. “It’s cold here.”

 He smirked slightly, pressing an awkward kiss to the side of her head. “I know, it is pretty cold. We should be out of here soon enough, though. Just as soon as you decide what ice cream you want…!”

 She groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead.

 “You promised you’d help me pick.”

 The detective only grumbled in response, stopping to turn to look at her options through the glass door. Her eyes scanned the shelves for anything that grabbed her, not taking notice of the way her partner was watching her as she worked. Her lips pursed as she searched, wondering if any of them were going to jump out at her. Bubblegum, vanilla, strawberry, coconut almond, triple chocolate, green tea, lemon custard…

 “Kyoko, are you okay?”

 ____________________________

 Okay, Makoto gulped to himself. The million-dollar question is out. 

 She turned to look at him, her brows knitted in confusion at the question. Her eyes seemed to be scrutinizing his face, drinking in every last detail. How funny it was that the two of them were spending so much time observing each other to excessive degrees. “What do you mean?” 

 “You’ve been acting weird since this morning,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “It’s like you’ve been on and off perfectly normal, and then really frustrated. Some of the others noticed it at work today, too. Komaru was pretty worried about you. She said you asked to talk to her about something and seemed flustered. Said she couldn’t tell me exactly what happened, but that you were worried about hurting my feelings. Is something going on?”

 His partner cursed under her breath, and for a second he thought he’d heard his little sister’s name thrown somewhere in there. She began to nibble on her lip anxiously, her gaze darting away from him. He probably shouldn’t have brought up that he spoke to Komaru at all.

 “Did I do something, Kyoko?” 

 A balloon of pressure built inside of him as he stood there waiting for her response. His heartbeat danced in his throat. Whatever was wrong with his girlfriend, he was sure that they could manage to get through it, but only if they communicated. Otherwise, they risked never being able to find the right pieces to reach their happiness. Then where would they be?

 “It’s…” 

 “It’s…?” He parroted, reaching out to grab her hand. She moved it away from him almost like she was flinching, sending a pang of sadness through his heart. He really hoped this wasn’t going where Komaru said it wouldn’t.

 “It’s not something you did, Makoto, I just…”

 His hand moved to rest on her arm, at the very least. Though he didn’t feel he had the energy within him to do so, he cracked a small grin. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’re a team. We’ve got to work through this stuff together, you know?” 

 Kyoko’s cheeks burned like brand-new Christmas lights, her gaze still fixated anywhere else but his face. Her words seemed to catch in her throat as she uttered them, somehow too embarrassed to speak her mind. “Do you promise me that you won’t be upset if I tell you the truth?” 

 Oh no. Fear settled into him faster than he thought possible. She wasn’t going to confess to having done something totally wild, was she? She hadn’t grown bored of him, or decided she’d be happier with a smarter, better-looking man? He didn’t think crushing his heart in public was anywhere within her character, but she’d surprised him before. Sweat dewed on his palms; he wiped it off on his work pants as best he could. “Uh… I’d like to think I could do that for you, yeah,” he replied, cringing at his anxiety showing in his voice, “So long as you didn’t like… I don’t know, plan to murder me and then decide last minute you didn’t want to go through with it.”

 It was a bit of a joke, but neither of them laughed. Not that it mattered. He got the feeling that the two of them just wanted her to spit out her confession already. 

 “It’s nothing like that, I just…” Kyoko’s hands curled into her fists, her eyes squeezing themselves shut. “Makoto, you were saying this morning that today is such a special day, and that you were really excited about what was going to happen… but I don’t remember why today is important.”

 The murmuring of “oh” came out of his mouth before he could process it, blinking slowly as the cogs turned in his mind. So his girlfriend wasn’t mad at him, nor was she leaving him for a superior specimen? She was just… feeling ashamed because of a mistake? Because she hadn’t remembered why the day was important? She crossed her arms over herself for protection, not realizing that a relieved laugh brewed in his chest. Oh, how he’d worried over nothing! He found himself grinning within seconds. Without thinking, he leaned over and pressed another kiss against her forehead.

 “Oh, Kyoko. Have you been beating yourself up about this all day?”

 “I’m sorry. I’m a horrible girlfriend.”

 He laughed and shook his head, giving her arm a supportive squeeze. “No, you’re not!”

 “Yes, I am. I completely forgot everything that’s supposed to be important about today, and I tried to ask Aoi, Komaru, and Togami-kun to get them to tell me, but they didn’t know either. I thought maybe by coming here with you and seeing what you were buying would give me some clues as to what our plans are, but I’m just more confused. Half of these are snacks, and the other half are just random items,” she reached into the box and pulled out a container of shampoo, “Seriously. What does this have to do with tonight?” 

 He chuckled awkwardly. “It doesn’t have anything to do with tonight. We just needed more shampoo. Same thing with the hand soap and sponges and all that. Picking up the snacks was the main goal. I’m going to make those caramel popcorn bars for us to eat, and it’s been awhile since we had hiyoko cakes, and you asked me for nachos when we first planned tonight…” 

 “But you only ever make the popcorn bars when we have Dead Trial marathons...” She muttered, her eyes suddenly lighting up like she’d struck a match. To his surprise, she actually gasped, taking hold of his arm. They must have looked so silly, grasping onto each other like that. “The new season gets uploaded to Flickies tonight, doesn’t it?! Is that why today is special?”

 Finally, he let himself have a full, hearty laugh. “Yeah! Since you’ve been so busy lately, I figured you must have been holding out for it and doing all that work to make sure you could enjoy yourself once it got uploaded. I didn’t realize you’d forgotten about it entirely.”

 “So I’m not a terrible girlfriend?”

 “Far from it! Just a girlfriend who worked so hard that she forgot about a special TV bingeing night.” 

 She exhaled with relief, her hand hitting her chest. “I’m so glad.” 

 “You must have been really worried, huh?”

 “Of course I was,” she murmured, rubbing his arm in what he assumed was supposed to be some form of affection, “I was certain that I would be hurting your feelings by forgetting, and I’m sure you know that that is the last thing I would ever want to do.”

 “Yeah, I know. Still, Kyoko, I promise I wouldn’t be mad at you if you really had forgotten something important. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind most of the time, and you’re only human. Anybody’s bound to forget stuff. It’s just how people work.”

 She blinked softly at him, staring up at him with the most loving gaze that he’d ever received from him. It was as if he could see the stars in her eyes. “Really?”

 “Of course,” he assured her, “I don’t need you to remember every little thing to know you love me.”

 She sighed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. Makoto’s heart began to beat faster as she pressed her face into his shoulder, snuggling in close. He couldn’t stop himself from breathing in her sweet smell, enjoying the cherry blossom-scent. “You’re too nice to me, Makoto, you know that?”

 “Well, you deserve it.” He murmured, holding her as tightly as he could manage. It felt so good to be in her arms.

 Kyoko snickered. “You’re such a flatterer.”

[malethirsty]

Tangle - Cal Jacobs

The Others 

Summary: Cal’s one night stand has left you reeling. As you reassess everything you’d ever known about chemistry, you wonder if you should gamble on something so risqué yet so perfect. 

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Daddy Kink

Inspired by: The HBO series Euphoria & the title is inspired by the TV Rock remix of Dukes of Windsor’s The Others. All rights go to their proper sources.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7R7ywVoiR0

Other individuals cross your path for a season, a reason or a lifetime, and you’d never quite understood what that meant, well at least until you met Cal Jacobs. The man had presented himself as sweet on Grindr but the minute he had you in his clutches, he became rough and aggressive, and you’d loved it, played the submissive to his Dom so well. You used to think that relationships were meant to be sweet with a bit of sour, but Cal managed to include both at once, it was intoxicating and you needed more. So you had taken the week to scripting how to interact with him on Grindr, what if he ignored your messages? You had to make sure you’d give him some hard hitting stuff so he would pay attention. So you took a seductive selfie with bare ass on display, sunlight shining onto it through the windows, making it look like gold shining from a newly opened chest and sent it off to him with a simple message ‘So what’s a sexy Daddy like you still doing in a place like this?’

You waited for a response, and waited. Minutes seemed to go slower than usual as you waited for your silver saviour to swoop in and save you, seeming less and less likely as time elapsed. You were almost going to put your normal clothes back on and get some food from the pantry when your phone dinged, causing you to hastily check back into the app quicker than usual, the message simply reading ‘Admiring the view, I’d love to get a close up’ You grinned, you had him right where you wanted him ‘I’m sorry but there’s quite a set of requirements for that’ you smirked as you sent off the message, it was a dangerous game tempting someone like this dominant man, but you were passed the point of caring, you needed him, all of him. You kept your eyes on yours and Cal’s messages, anticipation coursing through you as you waited for the response back, and eventually the new message flashed up ‘I can pay whatever price, try me’ as you simply sent back ‘Same place, same time.’ It dinged back almost immediately with ‘Yes’, with a grin, you turned off your phone and began to get ready. 

Later on in the night, you crossed the familiar territory to Cal’s room, neon lighting and pumping house music playing, except this time in more revealing clothing, you had paired a normal dress shirt with some leather pants that were cut off enough to show off your ass, and also made sure to include some leather pasties on your nipples, with pink dots in the centre. It was chilly, the wind making you almost icy, but you didn’t care, as you knew you looked a sight, as several individuals looked down from the top floor and wolf whistled, crying their lust out, making you grin and sway your hips from side to side in a more confident manner as you made your way over to Cal’s room, knocking on the door. You heard movement as he made his way forwards, and soon the door opened. His usual soft expression greeted you as it had done the first night you met, but this time it turned stonier as he observed your outfit “Get inside” he said rather bluntly. The confident demeanour fell from your face, what had you done wrong? But not wanting to provoke a negative response, you scuttled inside, innerly thankful that he had put the heating on, before Cal shut the door. 

He stood across from you in sort of a silent standoff “Y/N, we need to talk about what you have on.” “What I have on?” You questioned “Yes, all of it.” He responded gesturing to you. Regaining a bit of confidence you responded “If it upsets you Daddy I can take it off.” He crossed to you and took your hands, it wasn’t a rough grip, but had enough pressure as if to say ‘Don’t’ “Did you walk around like this?” He questioned softly “Yes I did sir, I wanted to look good for you tonight.” You said sweetly, he ran his hand down your cheek “You look beautiful.” He commented “But” he tapped your nose as if in a reproachful way “You shouldn’t walk outside of here looking like this, people will look at you oddly.” “I don’t mind sir, I’ve always been odd, I gladly own it.” Cal huffed, clearly his message wasn’t sinking in “That’s fine, but they won’t have that same view point, they’ll think you’re a slut, a good for nothing slut, determined to bend over and take anyone cause that is your only point in life.” 

Now you understood what had to be done, you straightened up, looking at Cal in the eyes “What if I want to be a slut Daddy, what if I want people to look at me as if I’m nothing but a piece of meat, only for their pleasure. You can’t say you disapprove, you didn’t mind when you sunk your cock into me last week, crying out your pleasure as you fucked and filled me with your load. You’re envious, and envy looks ugly on you, Cal.” You said the last part very pointedly, you wanted to provoked him, you could tell from the energy he was radiating, even with the firm look on his face giving nothing away, and you stood with a cocky grin, waiting for the monster to unleash itself. Without warning he grabbed you by the neck, you shockingly gasping for air as he tossed you onto the bed face first as he surveyed your ass. The first slap to your ass was swift and stung like a motherfucker, reverberating around the room “This ass is mine” He growled out, another slap raining down “No one else’s but mine.” You moaned into the bed, as he went to town, hitting your ass angrily as if he was letting out a massive load of tension “Pathetic fucking slut, desperate for a man to fill him with his load” Another slap “Yet never being filled, so you spread yourself for the next man.” Slap “And the next” Slap “And the next.” He slapped your ass again, having turned from a slight pinkish red from the cold to full blown red, he pulled you up by the hair as you exclaimed loudly “I’m sorry Daddy! I’ll dress better! I’ll never go out like this again!” Instead of calming him, he hit even harder making you cry out again, droplets of tears falling from your eyelids now, as Cal continued his assault on you “NO! You will dress like this again but only for me, I’m the only one who should ever see you naked, is that understood?” You whimpered, causing him to somehow slap even harder than before “ANSWER ME!” “YES DADDY!” You got out, droplets of tears and snot now running down your flushed up face, Cal finally releasing his grip as you dropped back to the bed, gasping for air.

It lasted for a few minutes as you got back your strength, Cal soon ended up smoothing your ass, placing kisses onto it, before moving up you, lifting your head only to place fingers in your mouth, making you gag “Spit” he instructed, and you obeyed, not wanting to push him much further, the time for that had gone. Cal removed his fingers, using your spit to slick up his cock before barreling down into your ass, your voice breaking as your walls stretched to accomodate him. Compared to the previous week, his pace was a hint slower, taking into consideration the fact he had rained down a parade of slaps, the feeling of Cal above you was strong and made you relax slightly, he was taking care of the business you wanted, all you had to do was moan out for him, which would encourage him to fuck harder, or so you thought. He eventually pulled out, you whining at the loss of his cock before he spun you round and lifted you up, carrying you over to the wall where you could still hear house music thudding, to your utter disbelief, had your cries really not caused a disturbance? You thought about that as Cal wiped your face with his hand, soon placing it on the wall before thrusting back in, making you groan, him grunting as his cock again got used to your heated walls. “Fucking people next door keep playing the damn music, I’m gonna give them a taste of what they’ve given me.” He growled out “Really Daddy?” you asked “Yes baby boy, I am, and you’re gonna help by telling them all about how good Daddy fucks you.” He resumed his rough pace, his growls and grunts sounding louder than usual “Oh God, Daddy fuck me, fucking use my ass!” You cried out “Fuck yes I will.” Cal responded as he went harder “How you liking daddy now?” “So fucking much sir.” You responded “Kiss me.” He instructed as he moved forwards, you meeting him halfway, wet hot mouths colliding as you parted your lips and let his tongue through, as you moaned together loudly, intending to piss off the individuals next door. 

Eventually Cal backed away from the wall, lowering himself to the bed “I haven’t done this in so long, ride me Y/N, ride Daddy’s cock.” He growled out, and you instantly obeyed. Slowing down the pace at first so you could appreciate his length, you then began to take his cock rougher as he bucked up into you “God, so tight, so fucking good.” He got out, before moving towards your nipple pasties, pulling them off with his mouth, a slight sting left behind as each was removed, he soon bit into one, working the other with his hand. As they hardened you went faster and faster, crying out your pleasure as he worked you over passionately, the familiar sensation of heat rising in your stomach faster than usual, so fast that you couldn’t warn Cal as you came between you both. He gazed down and looked back top at you smiling “Good boy” he breathed out, before taking control, slamming down even harder “God, your walls are like heaven Y/N, clamping down on my cock, I’m gonna come, and you’re gonna take it all like the slut you are, aren’t you?” He cupped your cheek as you nodded “Good! Your Daddy’s good slut, gonna take my load, take it all!” He let out a massive groan mixed with a shout as came, grunting as he worked out his load, soon falling onto the bed with you. “I’ve got to shower Y/N.” You nodded and made to move up but he clutched your back “No no, you stay here, I want you to think about if you want to see me again.” He used your confusion to push you down on the bed as he moved to the bathroom as you pondered what he said. 

He took slightly longer than he did last week with you with him, which was confusing you thought, as Cal could get showered easily himself. Eventually you heard the water turn off, and sat up as he emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel. He breathed in deep and began “Look Y/N, I know you must be hung up on me and I don’t blame you, but I’m generally a one night guy, I show up, wait for my hookup, make small talk, fuck, then leave. I never go back, but you insisted, so I decided to show what I’m all about. I’m not sweet, nor sour, I’m a mix of the two, I can be really nice, and really violent, you should know who I am as a lover before you want to get attached, tonight you saw me at my best and worst. I’m leaving this in your hands Y/N, do you want to keep going or do you want to stop, I won’t stop you either way, but I need to know now.” Cal took a deep breath as he finished, and looked at you waiting for a response. You swallowed deeply, it was a lot to take in, the fuck had been amazing, thrilling even, but you also cast your thoughts back to how he’d responded to your tempting, could you handle that sort of man? Cal looked you deep in the eyes, wanting to know what your answer but also not wanting to rush you for fear of pushing you away. You looked into his eyes, as they stared seemingly into your soul, and you knew your answer. “Yes Cal, I’ll stay with you, if I couldn’t handle you before, I wouldn’t have come back, and I see no reason to stop now.” A smile crossed his face “Thank you Y/N. Now, I’m going to go out and get you some clothes to go home in.” “Am I staying the night again?” You asked “Yes but this time I’ll be here, my son Nate is bringing his girlfriend Maddy over, and I don’t think me barging in would be good.” “No it wouldn’t.” You agreed “Don’t take long Cal.” “I’ll be back so quick you won’t even know I left Y/N.” Cal responded as he opened the door and crossed over “Good” you sent back as he shut the door, grinning as you also realised that the loud dance music had also stopped as well.

[galli-writes]

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello! I am bad at updating. Please forgive my sins.

Chapter 6: The Invitation (words 5,129)

The TV buzzed in the background, images flashing against the rising sun. Beast Boy stared at the screen without really looking at it as he poured some orange juice into a glass at the kitchen counter. His hand shook ever so slightly as he took a sip, and he tried to convince himself it was purely from a lack of sleep. But he knew that was only part of the problem at best. As he looked around the room, he locked eyes with the eerie monkey statue, still on display, and put his glass down with a hard swallow.

Beast Boy never brought up Galtry. Raven hadn’t mentioned him either, though that was probably less intentional. Even so, with each day that passed, his conviction only grew stronger. It had to have been Galtry. It just made sense. Didn’t it?

Beast Boy set his glass back down on the counter--and it was a good thing too, because if he had still been holding onto it when the doorbell rang, it definitely would have shattered on the floor.

Everything in the room went still for a moment. At the other end of the counter, Robin suddenly looked up from his phone, finishing off a bite of french toast. Cyborg had turned away from the TV, looking toward the door and then down at a screen on his arm in mild confusion.

“Uh...Well damn.”

“What is it?” Robin asked, already starting to get up to answer the door.

“I’m looking at the cam now,” Cyborg continued. “Whoever that was, they sure left in a hell of a hurry.”

Beast Boy tried to turn his attention to the TV again, and was able to do so with some effort. Above him, men and women wearing either red or blue aprons dashed around a kitchen at full speed. Pumpkins and fall leaves decorated the scene. A smiling scarecrow was pegged in the corner next to one woman’s prep station. At that moment, the host was asking a contestant about her pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls, which were already in the oven. It wasn’t the most creative approach to the challenge, but it was only the first round. So playing it safe was still acceptable.

Then the screen cut to commercial. Beast Boy looked back down at the counter, suddenly shoved back into reality. A reality that became all the more treacherous when he heard Robin returning--and heading his direction.

“Who was it?” Cyborg asked casually, turning back to the TV.

“I’m...not sure,” Robin said slowly. “But they left this. Beast Boy--”

“Huh?” Beast Boy nearly jumped, feeling Robin next to him now.

“It’s...for you.”

“Me? ”

Robin handed him a small card, which he took willingly despite himself. His name was unmistakably clear on the front flap. Well, not his name, but the name of someone he knew was supposed to be him. Galtry’s name wasn’t present, but it was clearly his handwriting--an elegant cursive Beast Boy had regrettably memorized by now. Even so, he had to squint to make out the words on the front of the card. He flipped it over. In slightly more legible text, there was a time and address. The lack of a date could only imply today.

“Any idea what it is?” Robin asked.

Beast Boy knew his curiosity was well warranted, but he froze under Robin’s expectant gaze.

“I mean....it kinda looks like an invitation or something,” Beast Boy said, trying to avoid eye contact. “But I’m not sure how we’re supposed to RSVP.” He managed a small, unconvincing laugh.

“Do you know who it’s from?” Robin continued, in the same awfully unassuming tone.

“No.” Beast Boy shrugged, pocketing the card. “I don’t.”

And that wasn’t technically a lie.

***

The forecast for the night showed more rain—this time enough to warrant a flood watch. Residents of certain parts of the city were advised to stay inside and avoid driving altogether.  Unfortunately, this didn’t apply to the restaurant they were to meet Galtry at. Of course it had been decided that Beast Boy wouldn’t be going alone, and for that he was grateful. In truth, he didn’t really want to go at all. But given the circumstances, Robin had decided the matter was ‘probably worth looking into.’ And Beast Boy knew better than to disagree.

In his room, Beast Boy knelt before a pile of clothes, rummaging through them without a clear goal. He didn’t know what he was going to wear--what he was supposed to wear for something like this. Probably something pretty nice if he was going off of Galtry’s handwriting alone.

Eventually, he came to the decision that the clothes on the floor were too wrinkled anyway. And when he couldn’t find anything reasonable in the closet, he turned to the dresser in desperation. He barely kept any clothes in there, but there had to be something . He yanked open the bottom drawer with some effort, finding nothing but a collection of mismatched socks, useless knick knacks--and a picture frame he’d intended to keep buried.

The picture was of course the same as it had been the last time he’d seen it. His own dark, disheveled hair contrasting with his mother’s blond waves. His father’s tight smile and focused gaze. When he was younger, people had always told him he ‘had his father’s eyes’. So dark they were nearly black. Beast Boy caught a flash of his reflection in the glass frame. His eyes were still quite dark, but in the light they betrayed a subtle green glint.

He frowned. With a new sense of purpose, Beast Boy got up, the frame tight in his grip as he turned his back on the mess surrounding him.

In the common room, he quickly found a small box of trinkets with ample space to house the frame. Using some discarded bubble wrap, he neatly repacked the picture, tucking it away next to some old books. Beast Boy glanced around the room, searching for something he could use to seal the box up for good. With a few carelessly ripped off pieces of packing tape, he folded the box shut and shoved it back with the rest of them.

And immediately afterward, a stream of guilt flooded over him.

One curse at a time, he ripped off more and more tape to finish off the rest of the packages before he changed his mind. With some effort, he pushed them into a neat pile at one end of the room. He would have to ask Dr. Galtry—whoever he was—to come have them picked up as soon as possible.

“What’re you doing?”

Beast Boy jumped slightly, taken off guard by the sound of someone’s voice. He took a breath to steady himself and turned around.

It was only Raven.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “Just...cleaning.”

Raven simply raised an eyebrow in uninterested disbelief. She was standing next to the fridge with a can of ginger ale in one hand and a hefty book in the other. Neither of those things were particularly remarkable for Raven.

But what was strange was the way she was dressed. Opposed to her usual baggy sweaters and leggings, she was wearing jeans and a cardigan over a blouse he’d never seen before. It even looked like she might be wearing makeup. Real makeup that had clearly taken more effort than her everyday eyeliner.

“So I guess you heard about dinner tonight, right?” he asked only now realizing he was staring.  

“Yeah. Sucks for you guys,” Raven said plainly, taking a sip of her soda.

“What do you mean?” Beast Boy said, genuinely puzzled for a moment. “You ’re not coming with us?”

“I have...plans.”  

Beast Boy eyed the book in her hand. “Sitting in your room reading doesn’t count as plans.”

“ Real plans,” she said defiantly, tossing the now empty can in the recycling.

“Well you’ll have to reschedule,” another voice said suddenly, short and stern.

Beast Boy and Raven both turned around to find the rest of their friends approaching from the nearest hallway, Robin at the lead.

“I can’t,” Raven replied, her tone just as sharp and uncompromising.

But Robin didn’t budge. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, arms crossed against his chest. “But this is official Titans business, and you know what takes precedence. That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

Raven frowned, but she didn’t put her book down. She merely stuffed it into her purse, which was much too small to properly contain it.

“Uh...car’s all ready out back,” Cyborg said, gesturing to the garage with some hesitation.

Raven sulked past them without a word, not even bothering to try and call shotgun.

The drive was awkward and uncomfortable. At least for Beast Boy.

At some point he realized Starfire was talking to him about the latest Netflix series she’d been binging. It was a clear effort to distract from the all consuming depressive aura of the back row. Beast Boy nodded at the appropriate moments, but couldn’t even remember the name of the show two minutes into the conversation.  

Raven didn’t look up from her book once during the entire trip. But it was obvious she was only pretending. Beast Boy couldn’t help but notice that she never once turned the page--and Raven was a fast reader. He didn’t mean to notice the slip of paper tucked between the pages--didn’t mean to see what was scribbled on it. The messy, half-cursive script was almost illegible, but it was clearly a reminder of some sort. A date, a place, a time--the last of which was circled aggressively in dark ink.  Beast Boy made a conscious effort to try and stare straight ahead. He didn’t want to be caught staring again. But of course, it was hard not to notice things like that when you were sitting right next to someone.

What plans did Raven have? ...Not that it mattered to him, of course. Whatever Raven did in her free time wasn’t any of his business, really. Even still, it was hard not to wonder what could be important enough to pull the world’s biggest introvert out of her room. In an actual put-together outfit no less. Then, for a brief moment, a disarming thought flitted through his mind. Hypothetically, in a world where Raven actually dated people, it would probably be safe to assume that she would never tell any of them about it. And why should she? But more importantly why should any of them care ? He didn’t.

Of course, the thought was utter nonsense to begin with. Raven had always made it abundantly clear that she had no interest in being in a relationship. Unless of course she’s been lying.  

Beast Boy began to feel a pit forming in his stomach for the millionth time that week. Just letting his mind wander as far as it had made him feel guilty--like he was prying into things that were none of his business. He tried to shift his train of thought to something-- anything --else beyond the uncomfortable terrain he’d stumbled into. And he didn’t know why it was so uncomfortable. Maybe it was because now he couldn’t stop thinking about the state of his own love life. At least Raven had the angsty brooding down pat. Any time he felt bad for himself--which was a little too often for his liking--he imagined he looked less like the lead singer of a pop punk band and more like a toddler who’d spilled their cheerios in the backseat of mom’s minivan. Right now he would have leaned up against the window and stared into the coming downpour like someone in an early 2000s music video...had he not been stuck in the middle seat again.

As they drove, Robin talked briefly of a ‘plan’ he’d been constructing in the event that things went south. Starfire and Cyborg seemed engaged enough, hyping themselves up for what they’d decided was going to either be a five star meal or an equally satisfying smackdown. But Beast Boy couldn’t find it in him to join them. Outside, the rain was picking up fast. The gray clouds above had brought on the night of their own accord, and even the thousands of city lights couldn’t entirely pierce through the darkness. Beast Boy slunk down further in his seat, sticking his hands deep in his pockets. In doing so, he realized abruptly that he had never actually changed clothes, and a familiar card was still tucked away in his pocket. Unfortunately, no amount of fiddling would make it disappear.

It was easy to recognize when they’d arrived at their destination. The traffic came to a complete stop, as cars—and even a limo or two—fought for a spot on the narrow strip of asphalt in front of the shimmering building before them. People poured out of the vehicles like liquid gold, as men in suits and women with designer handbags scrambled for the attention of the underpaid valet workers.

“Well this looks like...fun,” Cyborg said, hands gripping the wheel tighter, despite the utter standstill.

“I think we might be a little under dressed,” Robin said, peeking out the window and then down at his jeans and flannel. He sounded much less like a boy about to embarrass his family at the yacht club and much more like a detective who was going to blow his cover.

“Well I guess it’s too late for that now,” Cyborg said, automatically pulling up in line next to a man dressed in valet attire weilding a crisp black umbrella.

“Good evening, sir. May I have the name of your party?”

“Uh...” Cyborg hesitated.

Without thinking, Beast Boy reached for the card in his pocket. In a matter of seconds it had acquired some impressively deep folds and a slight tear in one corner, but it was still easily readable and recognizable. He leaned forward and silently passed it to the man like he’d been rehearsing the action for months.

The man’s eyes widened instantly. “Oh, of course. Dr. Galtry has been expecting you.”

A brief moment of silence hung in the air between them as Cyborg continued to grip the wheel.

Beast Boy stared straight ahead. The tension was palpable. For everyone else, the sound of Galtry’s name must have conjured some form of excitement. Good or bad. Some sense of progress in unearthing a mystery. For Beast Boy it only stirred up the guilt surrounding how much he’d withheld.

“If you would—“ the man said, clearing his throat slightly. He nodded toward the driver’s seat as he spoke. “I would be happy to take care of your vehicle.”

“I...uh,” Cyborg hesitated again, his hands gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

“That would be great, thanks,” Robin interjected from the other side. Cyborg shot him a quick look of doubt, but it was quickly followed by a sigh of resignation as he let go of the wheel.

From the safety of the covered curb, Beast Boy watched with his friends as the man stepped into the driver’s seat and fumbled for a moment with the controls.

“Be safe, baby,” Cyborg half whispered as the car disappeared into the fray. And despite all of the nerves clouding his mind, Beast Boy couldn’t help holding back a smile, patting his friend on the shoulder in consolation.

The inside of the restaurant was just as extravagant as the exterior suggested, even more so as the former had certainly been dulled by the weather. Immediately upon entering through the crystal double doors, Beast Boy found himself brushing shoulders with men and women who looked like attendees of a red carpet after party. The entire building—which was completely packed beyond any sense of personal space—was littered with dark wooden tables, velvet curtains, and chandeliers. Light bounced around the room off silver plates and platters carried around by elegantly dressed waitstaff. Even from the distance of the foyer, the scene was simultaneously beautiful and nauseating.

“The party for Dr. Galtry?” A young woman’s voice rang out from behind a tall podium in the corner of the entryway. “We have you in our private dining--” the woman started, pausing as she looked up to meet the group before her. Her eyes grew wide and a clearly unscripted smile came across her face. She had to be in her late teens or early twenties--and was one of the youngest people in the room.

“Sorry,” she said, the smile still on her face. Her brilliant emerald jewelry sparkled as she began to move. “Um...If you’ll just follow me right this way.���

Weaving through the tables turned out to be even more dizzying than just looking at them. And with every step, Beast Boy felt more and more like he was walking straight back into the cave of a hungry beast hoarding its jewels. When they finally came to a halt, it was in front of a large wooden door at the back end of the restaurant. Like the den of a sleeping dragon, this area of the restaurant boasted an even greater number of precious gems and wrinkle lines.

“Dr. Galtry will be waiting for you all inside,” the young woman said, nodding her head slightly.

An awkward beat of silence passed as she continued to stand there without turning to leave, her eyes darting down to her feet.

“Sorry, I know this is like, super unprofessional, and I know you guys are busy, but I was just wondering...if I could maybe get an autograph?” she said quietly, the words spilling out a million miles an hour. She was looking up now, and despite referring to the entire group, it was clear her attention rested on Starfire.

“Certainly!” Starfire smiled.

As if by magic, a small receipt notepad and chewed up pen had already appeared in the young woman’s hands.

“I love your bracelet by the way,” Starfire beamed, taking the pad of paper and beginning to doodle on it.

“Oh, this?” the girl laughed nervously. “Thanks. I mean, it’s nothing really.”

Starfire handed the paper back with a smile, the pad now feverishly adorned with hearts and stars surrounding her signature.

The young woman seemed to be beside herself with joy. She managed another clumsy string of thank yous before disappearing into the crowd again.

There was another long silence.

“I hate it here,” Raven said abruptly, shattering any lingering sentiments of the preceding interaction.

The look on Starfire’s face was more than enough of a response.

“I’m not talking about the girl,” Raven huffed.

Beast Boy looked around. It was true. The suspicious glares were more than enough to tell that the rest of the diners weren’t fans. Maybe coming here had been a mistake.

“Is it really--? Oh, yes, finally!”

Beast Boy blinked hard, a smooth but animated voice bringing him back into the room.

“I’m so glad that you all agreed to meet me here,” a man said, approaching them eagerly.

Suddenly everything seemed to blur. The motion of the restaurant became nothing more than a swirling backdrop of light. For the third time that night, Beast Boy caught himself staring. He looked just like his picture. Too perfect to be real--and yet there he was. Black hair, dark eyes, perfect smiling complexion. The only indicator of his age was the shadow of graying stubble around his chin--and even that looked somehow manicured and intentional. But he walked and talked and was standing right before them just like any other human being. It felt like being in a dream. Or a nightmare.  

“I’m so sorry. I had to step outside to make a phone call,” the man continued. “Galtry. Dr. Nicholas Galtry,” he said, proceeding to shake each of their hands with an unprecedented force. “Really, it is an honor meeting the rest of you.”

“The...rest of us?” Robin asked, wiping his palm on his pant leg.

The man stopped short, a look of pure bewilderment washing over his face. “Oh...don’t tell me you didn’t get my letter?” As he spoke, he turned to look at Beast Boy directly.

“So you’re the letter guy?” Cyborg said, with a somewhat forced laugh.

“I had hoped Garfield might at least mention my name,” Galtry said, slowly.

For a moment, Beast Boy felt the same sense of crippling guilt returning, coupled with the discomfort of hearing his ‘name’ spoken aloud by someone he didn’t know. Or didn’t know well . He was still deciding.

“Well, I’m sure you all must be tired, called out like this on such short notice,” Galtry continued. “Again, all of my apologies, but I just couldn’t wait any longer to speak to you. Here, let’s go inside, shall we?”

The private dining room certainly was private. Almost to the point of being soundproof, which Beast Boy found to be more of a concern than a comfort. Robin automatically sat the closest to Galtry, which was unsurprising but still a relief. Beat Boy opted for a spot in the middle of the long table, where he reasoned he would be least likely to garner extra attention from their host.

Just then, the door swung open again, and another member of the wait staff entered to pour water into the intricate crystal glasses before them. He then proceeded to take drink orders—a cherry coke for Beast Boy and pinot grigio for Dr. Galtry.

“So,” Galtry said, swirling his wine like he was on the cover of a food magazine. “I understand you all have been on Arsenal’s trail for some time now.”

The room went still. Until, of course, Robin eventually broke the silence.

“Arsenal?”

The question would have sounded redundant on anyone else’s lips. But Robin said it with such confidence that it was Galtry who looked embarrassed.

“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry. I had assumed you were familiar with them.”

As one waiter exited, two more replaced him, setting various cutting boards piled high with expensive cheeses and sausages down the center of the table. Galtry sliced a piece of smooth white cheese off the cutting board, spreading it on a piece of toast without even looking down. “They’ve been causing me trouble ever since I first got here.”

“You sound like you know ‘em,” Cyborg said, his eyes resting on Galtry as he skewered his own kebab of sausage rounds.

“Unfortunately,” Galtry grumbled, mostly to himself. “They’ve been after some research of mine for some time now. I don’t pretend to know why. I’m not sure they would even know what to do with it if they were to get a hold of it.”

“What exactly are you researching?” Robin asked tentatively.

Galtry looked up at him suddenly, an expression akin to embarrassment flashing once more across his face. He was clearly not the type of man accustomed to having to introduce himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, aren’t I?” he cleared his throat. “I haven’t even properly introduced myself. That’s what happens when you frequent limited social circles your entire adult life,” he said with a short laugh. “Right now I hold a position as Research Chair for the department of Genomics at the University of Pretoria. I primarily conduct research regarding the development of new gene therapy technologies.”

“Why would the genes need therapy?” Starfire asked, already on her second round of charcuterie.  

Galtry fought back a bemused smile. “It’s not literal. Though that would be something, wouldn’t it? It’s a type of medical procedure,” he explained. “The sort of thing that would help us treat genetic disorders like cystic fibrosis or even reverse the production of cancer cells. The details are a bit...complicated,” he said thoughtfully, looking into his glass.

“As for my being here in Jump City, I admit it’s a bit of a surprise even to me. The U.S. Northeastern Scientific Board regularly invites me to present my work at their annual symposium, which is usually held in Gotham. But I understand there’s been somewhat of a crime spike there recently. And criminals do love the smell of science they don’t understand,” he said with a sardonic smile.

“You’ll have to excuse me for being so blunt,” Robin interjected. “But what does this have to do with us exactly?”

“Well that's a simple question with a rather complicated answer,” Galtry said, a slight frown coming across his face. “The less complicated aspect has to do with Arsenal themself. When I learned that they had found some opposition after following me to the states, I knew I would have to meet with whoever was tracking them. Lucky for me it turns out you all are pretty famous around here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say famous ,” Cyborg said, barely pulling off airs of humility.  

The doors swung open a third time as if on cue, this time letting loose a small string of waiters, each steering a cart laden with different shapes and sizes of covered plates. One was placed in front of each person at the table with expert precision and lifted dramatically to reveal the contents. Beast Boy was more than surprised to find that his dish was completely different than everyone else’s—stuffed mushrooms that looked like they’d been specially prepared. He didn’t remember mentioning that he was a vegan, and had the harrowing thought that maybe he had reached a stage where people knew without asking.

“So how do you know Beast Boy?” Starfire asked, head tilting slightly to one side like a puppy.

It was the question Beast Boy had been dying to hear the answer to--though he knew he would have been incapable of asking it.

“Of course. That’s the other half of the matter. And a bit more complicated,” Galtry said, rubbing his hands together meditatively. “The simple answer is that I was a friend of his parents’. Back during their tenure at the University of Pretoria.” There was a soft smile on his face, but it didn’t seem to exude any kind of joy. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“But all of those artifacts...all of their belongings--you sent those?” Robin tried to clarify.

Galtry nodded. “After their unfortunate passing, I was designated Garfield’s legal guardian by the court that sorted their affairs. They were always very private people, and I was the closest acquaintance they had. Their son was supposed to inherit their entire fortune--the only problem being...well...no one knew where you were,” he said, looking directly at Beast Boy now. “Seeing as you had still been under close medical watch at the time of your disappearance, it was the general belief that you had died somewhere in the jungle shortly afterward. But because there was never any actual proof of that being the case, the money was never dispersed by the government or anyone else. Instead it’s in a bit of a state of limbo held by those same officials—where it’s been utterly useless given the circumstances.”

Galtry looked down at the table, shaking his head. “I had just about given up hopes of ever finding Garfield—you wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to find someone once they’ve essentially erased their given name from their identity. Even through legal means. Surprisingly, the small detail of him being green didn’t help very much either,” Galtry said with a small laugh. “I only recently learned it was even an aspect of his...condition. The side effect hadn’t quite developed completely before he disappeared.”

Galtry spoke to his friends as if this was knowledge Beast Boy had always possessed and merely neglected to share with them, which, as far as he knew, was not the case. Though the historic tirade made him wonder just how much of his life he had forced himself to forget.  

Galtry shook his head once more. “There were always flitting rumors of what had really happened to the Logans’ son, but I was always too stubborn to believe them.” A small ironic smile crept over his face as he looked directly at Beast Boy. “You have to understand. I’ve dedicated my entire life to the sciences. And, quite frankly, your very existence seems to defy its most basic principles.”

The silence that followed was unlike any other that had filled the air that night. There was a certain quality to it that went beyond discomfort. Beast Boy felt himself instinctively clench the sides of his chair as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. Galtry’s words felt eerily like a compliment, and somehow that made things worse.

Robin cleared his throat suddenly, making a point to stand from his seat. “Thanks for the meal, it was really delicious. But this is all a lot to take in. We’ll need a little more time as a team to consider whether or not we can help you.”

“I completely understand,” Galtry said with a smile. “Especially considering we’ve only just met.” He folded his hands in front of him, like a compassionate leader about to make a compromise with some of his disheveled citizens. “If you all would like to know more about what it is I do, I would be more than happy to show you around my lab this weekend. Perhaps a better understanding of my work would convince you?”

“We’ll have to think about it,” Robin repeated in the same definitive tone.

“Of course,” Galtry said automatically. As if this were a dance he’d done many times before. “Here,” he rose from his seat. “For now the least I can do is see you off.”

The man known to them as Nicholas Galtry made his way through the door, exiting the restaurant the way they’d come in. But this time, Beast Boy noticed that it wasn’t the green skin and glowing eyes or robotic arms and legs that captured everyone’s attention. It was Galtry. The doors were opened for them as if on cue, valets and restaurant staff trailing behind them without Galtry so much as lifting a finger. When they got to the outside of the restaurant, Cyborg’s car was already there, running and ready to go.

“I could really use your help,” Galtry said, passing the keys from the valet’s hand to Cyborg’s. “I hope I’ll be hearing from you soon.”  

The second they were in the car, the doors shut tight behind them and a quiet voice broke the heavy silence.

“Did I mention I hate it here?” Raven mumbled, the first words she’d said since they’d met Galtry. The only words she’d said all night.

Beast Boy didn’t say it, but he had been thinking the same thing. Though maybe hate wasn’t the right word. Not exactly.

He turned to look out the back seat window, and watched as Galtry watched them drive away.

[consumedkings-archive]

mayhaps 4. “You’ll play this game with me, won’t you?” for john/elliot?

BABES I AM. SO SORRY that this has taken so long but i am really pleased that i finally hit a stride with it and how it came out!! i hope you enjoy this absolute tooth-rotting fluff piece. i’ve been having a rough few days so it was so nice to get the chance to just write something sugary-sweet for once. (❁´◡`❁)

v. we can change or part ways ✤ pre-cult au

john/elliot + “you’ll play this game with me, won’t you?”, or: john picks a fight with isolde and immediately loses. hints of joseph/isolde mentioned very briefly. sort of a  sequel to this oneshot!

word count: 2.3k of pure fluff. also, some john bullying.

warnings: does john being an idiot count?

“This is a stupid game.”

It’s eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve, Elliot is snowed in at the Seed Ranch, and Isolde and John won’t stop arguing.

It’s almost enough to make it all worthwhile; the fact that they’re trapped, or that Elliot didn’t even want to come to this family dinner because she hasn’t forgotten about John impulsively asked her to marry him and her kicking him out of her apartment shortly thereafter, or that Jacob keeps looking at her from across the living room like, so uh, this is the one, huh?

“It’s not stupid,” John defends. “It will prove the superiority of Elliot and I over you and Joseph as a couple, and I think that’s not stupid at all.”

“It is,” Isolde replies flatly, “because any couple that has me in it is far superior over any couple that has you in it. No offense, Elliot.”

“None taken.”

“Offense is definitely taken,” John interjects.

“My point is that it could be Elliot and I versus you and Joseph, and I would still win, because anyone with two eyeballs probably knows Elliot better than you know her.”

“Then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t want to play!” John snaps, and then he looks at Elliot. Something in his expression shifts—something that Ell can’t quite read, and she thinks it might be because they haven’t even really made up yet from their last argument but have sort of been forced to play nice in close proximity.

And then his expression clears, and he flashes his teeth at her in that crooked smile, and he says, “You’ll play this game with me, won’t you?”

Elliot stifles a sigh. The idea of the game is simple enough—a couple stands back to back, is asked a series of questions about who-is-more-likely-to-whatever, the person who thinks they are drinks. And so on, and so forth. It sounds like a quick way for Elliot to get pissed at John, and also get piss drunk—there’s like, five rules about making them both drink—but he looks so earnest and—

And, well. He’s been trying. And that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

“Yeah,” she relents at last, “I will. If you stop fucking whining.”

“See?” John says, looking at Isolde pointedly, needling, and she groans.

“Can’t wait to watch you get drunk off your ass because you can’t get on the same page as your girlfriend to save your life.”

John rolls his eyes, almost so hard that Elliot can hear it more than she can see it, but he reaches out and snags her hand to haul her off of the couch. Isolde is prompt in producing two glasses full of alcohol—champagne, if Ell knows Isolde at all, and by now she does—and they stand, back to back, in the center of the living room.

Elliot says, “This is stupid,” with a withering sound, and John reaches behind him and gives her hip a squeeze. She still hasn’t forgiven him for his impromptu proposal, and yet he’s finding himself awful comfortable acting like everything is completely fine.

“Don’t be a poor sport, hellcat, you already agreed.”

She cranes her neck to shoot him a dirty look, with half a mind to tell him that she’d like to instead dissect everything he’d once done to piss her off rather than play this stupid fucking game, but her thoughts are quickly interrupted by Isolde settling onto the couch next to Jacob, looking quite pleased with herself.

Probably because she’d wriggled out of having to play a drinking game.

The first few questions are easy; softballs lobbed in their direction to get them to more relaxed. Things like, who’s more likely to get injured doing something stupid (Elliot), or have an embarrassing tattoo (John), or sell all of their belongings and move to Tibet (in which neither of them drinks, so then the rules are that they both must drink). In hindsight, Elliot thinks that Isolde is sending these easy ones on purpose, just ramping up for something better, grittier.

Halfway through, Joseph brings her a glass of wine just as the questions shift a little; who’s more likely to forget the name of someone they hooked up with (John), and date two people at once (John), and go home with someone they just met. The last one, they both drink, thanks to their most fortuitous first meeting in the club, and because they both drink they must then both drink again.

“These questions feel a little pointed,” John snips out eventually, when he’s drank six or seven times in a row, and Elliot can see Jacob grinning at them from the corner of her eyes. She’s pleasantly warm, but certainly nothing close to how toasty she’s sure that John is—how he must be after heartily drinking expensive, highly alcoholic champagne.

“They’re just fun questions, John. Aren’t you always talking about how you’re the fun one?” Isolde asks playfully. Elliot swallows back a laugh—it would be cruel, of course, to laugh at John’s expense—but she can’t help it. He’s put himself into corners too easily. “Who’s more likely to have the highest number?”

“Oooof?” John prompts irritably. “Candles? Chris—Christmas ornaments? Dog hairs on their clothes?” All things that he knows Elliot would beat him in and thus, have to drink for.

“Bedwarmers,” Elliot says, at the same time as Isolde does, and now she can’t help but laugh at the sound that comes out of John; long, and suffering, and fully aware that had he not insinuated that he is superior to Isolde in any way, she would not be specifically targeting him.

He drinks. Jacob asks, “More likely to hit someone with their car?” And she can feel John’s shoulders sag in relief, because she drinks dutifully.

“Thanks, Jake,” John murmurs, his words slurring a little now after enduring an onslaught of pointed questions. Elliot sees Joseph lean towards Isolde, murmuring something into her hair.

“Joseph says I have to stop torturing you,” Isolde announces, resulting in another breath of relief.

“I only suggested perhaps John has reached his limit,” Joseph admonishes. “You enjoy twisting the blade, a little.”

“You’re right, that is very sexy of me.”

John finishes whatever’s left in his cup—which can’t be much and then sets it on the table, nearly taking a headfirst dive over to the other side, and Elliot steadies him and sets her own glass aside.

“Easy, Slick.”

“Unfair,” is what John whines at her in response. “Isolde likes—she—you better.”

Looking awfully smug, Isolde suggests, “Should probably get that one to bed, Elliot, it doesn’t look like he’s gonna make it much longer.”

She stifles a sigh. The last thing that she really wants is to spend Christmas Eve with John completely, absolutely shit-faced; though considering that she’s so much more of a light-weight than he is, it is nice to have there be that kind of disparity for once. Let John be faced with his crippling vulnerability that he’d can’t laugh off because he’s so toasted.

By the time Elliot gets him up the stairs and into his bed, John has moaned and groaned his way through seven different thoughts. He settles against the pillows and lets out a breath, eyes closing.

“Gonna be stuck here,” he says after a minute. “For a few days. ‘Cause—the snow.”

“I know,” Elliot replies, perched on the edge of the bed. And then: "Fuck, I hate this," the alcohol in her system making her painfully unable to filter herself. At her words, John laughs, sitting up and sliding his arms around her waist so that he can look at her at her.

Drenched in dimly-filtered moonlight, all sharp elegant lines and eyes so blue she thinks they might swallow her up—he’s infuriating. Infuriating. So handsome, and also somehow smart and dumb at the same time. The idea that John wants to marry her is incredibly absurd, not only because of their track record but—

"Do you remember," John begins, fanning out the blanket across their laps, "that storm? A few months back? Took out your, uh....?"

“Power?”

“Yeah, that.”

She does. Elliot hates the dark, and with the power out that meant all of the small little lights she'd spread throughout her house didn't work. "Yes. It was awful."

"I remember it fondly," he continues in that still-warm lilt of being inebriated. He settles more comfortably in his spot and thumbs the slope of her hip, easy and affectionate.

“That tracks. We tend to have different views on how things go.”

He narrows his eyes, but the gesture is playful; he seems to be in a better mood than before, the tension between them less aggressive, waning and waxing the way it likes to do. John will contest it to his death, but she thinks that maybe he had intended for them to be equally as inebriated, not one more than the other, when he suggested the game before.

“It was awful,” John concedes, “but also—good. A moment in time can be many things. Should I state my case?”

Elliot groans. She’s drunk, and he’s more drunk but also a lawyer, and there is no way she can out-talk him anyway. Not in a million years. “John, you know I can’t out-argue you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up agreeing.” The brunette shifts again, reaching out and taking her hand. He does it very easily, like the argument doesn’t exist, like she hadn’t told him to fuck off and kicked him out of her apartment those nights ago. “Consider this: you’re me.”

“Hate it.”

“You’re me, and you’ve been dating this girl,” John continues ceaselessly, winding their fingers together. “That you really like, and you keep—messing it up, but this is the first date since the last time that you messed up, and the power goes out.”

Elliot grimaces. Even like this, even with John leaning in so that there isn’t a lot of space between them, telling her the story like it was the greatest thing in the world—all she can remember from that moment in time is the panic.

“And she’s really pissed off,” he adds, for flavor. “So you light every single candle you can dig out of her cupboard, because if you don’t you think she might actually come unglued from hitting her berserk button so much. And when she finally calms down, she ends up falling asleep right against you, and just before she’s really asleep for good she says that she loves you.”

Oh, Elliot thinks, her chest tightening painfully. She doesn’t remember that. The adrenaline crash, sure, burying her face into John’s neck and smelling his cologne as she fell asleep; but that does sound like something half-asleep Elliot would say, the traitorous bitch.

“Stupid,” she murmurs after a moment, when she thinks she’s recovered. Her words elicit from John a half-cocked grin as he’s leaned in, studying her. “That you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” John replies, his voice pitching low, “about you, Ell.”

Bad. This is bad, a mistake. It’s cozy under a blanket, away from the bustle of his siblings, knowing how much it’s storming and snowing outside, and she keeps thinking about how he kissed her in her apartment that night he’d tried to sneak the proposal in—like he wanted more, like he wanted to kiss her more than that, but he was trying to behave.

He was trying.

“I can’t,” Elliot manages out, soft. “John, I can’t—this—back and forth, and—”

“I don’t want to either,” John insists. “I want you, Ell, I mean it—I meant it then, and now, and I’m sorry that I thought a ring would fix it. Or, not even fix it, just that I thought—”

Her chest feels tight, and hot, and she swallows thickly as he speaks before she interrupts. “It was really stupid, really really fucking stupid, like—the meanest joke you could—”

“It wasn’t a joke—”

“So what did you do?” she asks, suddenly, blurting the words out before she can stop herself. John blinks at her.

“What did I do?”

“That night,” she presses. “That night in my house, when the power went out. When I said...”

Her voice trails off. She knows what she wants him to say, deep down inside of her. She knows that she wants him to say, I love you, I loved you then and I love you now and there’s nobody else I want more than you, because she’s a hopeless romantic and there’s nothing that would make her life into a Hallmark movie than John whispering a profession of love like this, right now.

John starts, “Elliot, I’m—”

Panic. If he says it, it’s real, and then she will have to face it. Really, truly face.

“An idiot,” Elliot interjects, her words overlapping with his and strangling them until all she can hear is the tail end of him saying, “—with you,” and his mouth sets down in a deep frown.

She looks at their hands, intertwined. He’d been so sure of himself that night, sliding the ring on her finger, and it’s less that he seemed sure she would say yes but more sure that he thought he had been making the right decision. More than anything, all I want to hear is that you missed me.

“Go to sleep,” she says at length. “We’ll see how you feel when you wake up in the morning.”

John, true to form, heaves the most dramatic sound possible out of his body before he lays back against the pillows, still in his jeans and button up. Elliot stands, and leaves him like that, because there’s plenty of things that John Seed deserves and Elliot thinks waking up in tight jeans is one of them.

“Hellcat,” he says, when she reaches the door. She pauses, glancing back; he’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Mean it, you know.”

I’m in love with you. She knows that’s what he’d been trying to say before she’d spoken over him.

“I know,” Elliot replies softly. “We’ll see if you mean it tomorrow, too.”

She hopes he will.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Listening to Fear || Athena and Kaden

TIMING: Before the scream LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @athenaquinn and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Two hunters enter the woods. One phobid has fun.

Knife in hand, Kaden wasn’t sure how long he stood there at the edge of the trail staring up at the trees, eyes trying to find the tops of the branches, see where one tree ended and the other began. It was impossible to tell. It was also impossible to sort through what he was feeling even though he was certainly trying to. First hunt after spilling the beans to Regan. Well, as best he could manage. Somehow he expected there to be a lot more weight off his shoulders on this next hunt, but he didn’t quite feel it. Something was still nagging at him. He let out a deep exhale through his nose. He supposed it hardly mattered. What mattered was-- People screaming? And running out of the forest. “Putain,” he muttered to himself as he took off running in the direction they came from. No time to worry about feelings and crap now. He had a job to get done and he tore through the trees to get to the scene. A flash of blonde hair caught his eye across the way. “Pipsqueak if that’s you, I swear to god,” he grumbled. The last thing he needed was Blanche out in the woods getting in his way on a hunt.

Even if she didn’t intend for them to, many of Athena’s explorations on the trails around town often ended in a hunt. Admittedly, she had come into the forest today with a partial purpose to hunt, even if she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. Not that it mattered - this town had more than enough for her to deal with. She’d been working on her breathing recently - because reacting too strongly to fae was not about to do her any good in any sort of situation. She just had to concentrate - though she also knew that she had to welcome the feeling, to welcome how viciously uncomfortable it made her feel whenever any sort of fae was nearby. This time, however, she saw the response before she could feel the fae - a number of hunters screaming and running out of the forest. Shortly after, she could feel goosebumps rise on her arms and she took off. She only skidded to a halt when she heard someone else. “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but I don’t appreciate that nickname.” Turning a corner around a tree she spotted a man. What was he doing here? Why hadn’t he left with the rest of everyone else? He wasn't fae, not as far as she could sense. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite place it. “My name is Athena, and I appreciate being referred to as such.”

Oh. Not Blanche. It was someone else entirely. Kaden supposed that was good. “Sorry, thought you were someone else. Someone more obnoxious, about your height, maybe a little shorter, blonde hair though I guess it’s blue sometimes, and she just never stops talki--” A screaming hiker came barreling down the path right into Kaden. He cursed and grumbled as he moved out of the way, almost tossing the man to the side. The poor guy seemed so scared, it was a wonder he didn't piss in his pants. There was another scream or two not too far off. Putain, he had to figure out what the hell was going on here. There were too many monsters to name that could scare a group of unsuspecting hikers shitles. The problem was, it didn’t seem like anything big or barreling was nearby, he’d have heard it. No wolf, probably not a beast. But what the fuck was it. “You’d better clear out, ki-- Athena.” Something about her demeanor, even though she was young, told him that “kid” wasn’t going to go over well with her. “This is dangerous.”

“I -” Athena shook her head. “Well, no. I’ve never even dyed my hair. Not once. Once Lilia said we should, for bid day, but I -” her words and the man’s were both cut off by another scream. She pressed her tongue against her teeth, trying to deduce what was going on. What was causing all of this. She knew very well that some sort of fae was around, but there could have been something else here, too. Whatever was around needed to be dealt with, and this slick-haired guy was blocking her from doing that. She knew that she didn’t even always look twenty, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. Let him stop her, either. “I’m not going anywhere.” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You, however, should probably go somewhere. I’ve got something to deal with, then I’ll go back home. Don’t worry.” She could feel the knife in her boots and the two against her hips. Practically begging to be used. She pursed her lips when she noticed that he was still standing there. “I’ve really got this. I hike in these woods all the time.”

“Me? I should leave?” Kaden scoffed at her suggestion. “Right. Not going to happen. I’m trained for situations like this. I’ve got it covered. Go home.” He charged past her into the woods without a second glance at her. Hopefully she wasn’t stupid enough to follow. And if she was, he’d work around her but he had a feeling she’d be running scared like the hikers back there. Confidence and cockiness only got you so far up against a monster. In the clearing, he paused and listened, tried to use whatever senses he could to suss out the situation. He didn’t feel anything, even anything small or subtle. No beasts nearby. Had to be some other kind of monster, fae or undead most likely. And he didn’t see anything big or scary. So why were they running away like that? Kaden spun around at the sound of rustling behind him, pulling his knife out of his pocket on instinct. Putain, it was the girl “I thought I told you to leave, this is dange--” His words cut off as he heard something behind him, but as soon as he turned to look, it was gone. All he saw was the bounce of some branches and the rustle of the leaves. Fuck, what was it?

“Yes. You should.” Athena fought away the urge to cross her arms and give a less-than-polite retort back to the man. What was he doing here, anyhow? She knew that this town attracted thrill seekers, so maybe he was one of those? It was people like that who made her job more difficult. “I’m sure whatever American Ninja Warrior type of gym you belong to has made you believe that, but I’m actually trained for this.” Great, so now she was going to have to deal with some guy who was way too confident for his own good and a fae that she still couldn’t see. After another moment she felt her whole body tense up. She made a note to continue working on that during her trainings. Not that she wanted a repeat of the whole fae incident back in March, but every time she felt like doubling over when she was around fae made her wish that she had a better handle on that particular aspect of her training. Thankfully, it hadn’t done much of anything to diminish her hunting skills, she thought, a smirk crossing her face. Hardly paying attention to the knife that the man had. Just then, out of the corner of her eye she spotted something. Dark, winged, and with what appeared to be white eyes. Phobid. At least that explained why the hikers had been screaming. “You seriously want to get out of here.” The phobid’s wings fluttered as it rose up from the branch it was sitting on. “The sooner the better.” She pulled one of her knives out from its resting place against her hip. “I’ve got this handled.” She glanced over at his. “Go use that for something else. This isn’t some stupid deer. Also, if it were, I’d advise against that sort of knife. Just a helpful tip from a local!” She flashed him a grin, though it was more passive-aggressive than kind. With a small wave of her hand, she turned back to face the branch where the phobid sat, lips pursed.

“American what?” Kaden asked, face scrunched in confusion. She had to have heard his accent and had some idea he wasn’t American. Or a ninja. Warrior, well, that depended on who you asked. Still seemed a little over the top to him. Still, he found himself rolling his eyes once again at her assessment. “Girl scouts hardly qualifies as survival training but good luck.” He couldn’t stop her, not in any way that was appropriate or that he was comfortable with, so if she insisted on following, he’d work around her. And try to keep her from getting killed. Which is why in the clearing he ignored her, let her insist that he was wrong. It didn’t matter. What mattered was pinning down the location of the monster there sending people screaming. Kaden stood still, taking in the sounds, only to be interrupted by her chatter. “I know it’s not a fucking deer. And I know what my own knives are good for thank you very fucking much, Tinkerbell.” He’d missed the creature again, but he heard it flitter. He glanced at her and followed her eyeline up to the trees and saw the small black, winged figure sitting there.

By the time Kaden realized he’d made a mistake it was too late, his eyes had locked on the creature’s glowing ones and he felt the panic rising within him. A phobid. Rationally, he knew that, knew what it was, but the grass around him suddenly felt too tall, too green. His pulse was picking up, heart starting to pound against his chest, and he shut his eyes tight, trying to force the fear from flooding his senses. He heard the small creature cackling. “Ouh more big legs,” it said with a voice not so different from Rumpleskuffs’. “More fun!” it added. Run. He had to run. Get away from the grass and the plants and the green. That’s what he has to d— No. No. He could push past this. It wasn’t real. He pulled a deep breath into his lungs and held it there a moment, grip tightened around his knife. The only thing that should feel fear is the phobid flitting around. He opened his eyes a little as he could, only viewing the world through small slits. His shaking hand put his knife away and scrambled to get the crossbow off of his back. He caught sight of the wings through the trees. The wings. Made of veins connected with glassy membranes. So similar to Regan’s. No. Not now. This wasn’t the same. Not even a little. He took a deep breath, aimed, and started firing into the trees, aim shaky. The cackling continued to echo through the clearing. “Now might be a good time to get going,” he shouted to the girl.

“American Ninja Warrior.” Athena made a face. “Look, just because you’re not from around here doesn’t mean you have to totally lack awareness of pop culture. I think the show is ridiculous, but I still know what it is.” She tapped her foot against the ground, giving a small huff at his mention of Girl Scouts. “Oh, obviously not. However, I did most of my brother’s work for Boy Scouts, and I’ve got plenty of other experience.” She certainly wasn’t a fan of this over-greased man making snide remarks about her. Even though she did know that her looks certainly worked to her benefit when out hunting. She just usually didn’t have to deal with other people underestimating her, because most of them were willing to leave her be once she asked. “Oh, absolutely not.” She knew that her voice was perhaps a bit too high pitched, and that her brother might’ve winced had he been around. “Don’t you dare call me that.” She could feel her body tense up, far too many memories of teachers in early elementary school remarking on what a lovely Tinkerbell she’d make for Halloween. She’d resented it then, and she could at least acknowledge that they had meant well. This time, she wasn’t so sure. “Well I don’t need a knock-off James Dean telling me what to do, thank you very much.”

She could spot the second that the fear overtook him. Amateur, she thought to herself. This was why people should just let her handle what she was expert at. Athena averted her eyes from the creature, though that didn’t stop its awful voice from reverberating throughout the clearing. She could slit its throat simply due to the laughter. Adjusting her posture, she turned to face the other man who was now fumbling around. Fumbling to find a crossbow. Athena rolled her eyes. “That’s not going to do anything. You’ve seen the size of that…” thing. Monster. “You need to get up close and personal. Take your Robin Hood antics elsewhere.” She pulled one of her knives out from its resting place against her hips. “Girl Scouts didn’t teach me this.” She flipped it deftly between her fingers. “Also, word of advice, don’t look into its eyes again.” She ran her finger against the cool iron of the face of the knife. “I’m not going anywhere. One of us is having a bit of a time of it and it’s not me.” In any other situation, she might’ve smirked, but this guy, whoever he was, was going to get himself killed. “Would it help if I told you in French? Would that get you to leave?” She grabbed another one of her knives (from her boot this time) and threw it against the tree where the phobid sat, watching the two of them. “See? I’ve got it.” Another giggle echoed through the clearing. “Oooh, keep-a fightin’!” The phobid cackled. “Soon you’ll be all alone. Alone in the woods, what fun!”

Kaden huffed out a laugh. Something about what he said got under her skin apparently. Guess she wasn’t a fan of small obnoxious blondes, huh? Or people with wings. Oh. Oh. Well that made a whole lot more sense now. Putain. He was stuck with a warden. This was fine. He would be fine. He was a hutner. Regan wasn’t here. Obviously. He didn’t need to be worried about being around a small, probably teenaged warden. That’s what he told himself at least. “James Dean, huh? I’ll take it. I could do worse.”

Too bad his shots weren’t landing the way his insults had. Kaden grumbled about it to himself while she tried to offer tips and tricks. “I don’t need you’re fucking advice pint size pixie,” he spat back, trying to line up another shot while his hands were shaking from stupid fear. And she had to mention the eyes. He was pretty fucking aware considering he felt like everything around him was terrifying. “I know,” he said through grit teeth, trying to keep his pulse from rising. Each blade of grass looked like knives, rising up to cut him, tear him down and prick him, make him bleed. Shit, no, no, it was just grass. He had to remember that it was just a trick, not real.

The show with the knife brought him back to reality and he rolled his eyes. Why the fuck did people like to use a party trick while in the middle of a hunt? “Quit showing off. You didn’t even hit the damn th--” Kaden cut off his words with a shout as he saw something crawling up along her back. A giant spider leg creeping behind her back. Or was it a wing? He threw himself at her, pinning her down, trying to brush the “wings” off her back while the tiny fae giggled and laughed up in the trees. “Big legs, big legs, fight fight fight!”

“You could do a heck of a lot better too, though, just saying.” She had to laugh - she knew that she ought not to, but this man was being so incredibly haphazard about everything and he was going to get both of them killed if Athena didn’t do something, and quick. “Don’t call me that.” She hissed. He was shaking, and he had looked into its eyes, and she really didn’t have the time nor the patience to be dealing with this right now. Though if she thought about it like a lesson - like one of the many lessons her parents put her through - then she could manage it. If she refocused herself and centered herself - because right now the real problem was the phobid. It would be more than enough to blind it, but she found that right now she was more keen to be done with it altogether - lest she risk it accidentally causing greater harm.

“You know and yet you still did it. Maybe you should do a review lesson. No harm in that,” he had to be a hunter, either that, or an especially cocky normal human, “we can’t all know everything.” Athena shrugged at his comment, though before she could completely respond, he’d knocked her to the ground and she struggled briefly under his weight, “get off me!” She screeched, kneeing him in the stomach, hoping it would knock the wind out of him at least so that she could do something. “I was making a point. If I want to hit something, I always make my mark.” A small giggle escaped her lips. However, the fae’s voice cut through the air and she rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Kaden snapped back at her. This. This was why he worked alone usually. That and when he did, there was no one around to see him make his mistakes. Like falling for a goddamn phobid’s illusions. But even if he knew the possibilities, the risks of the fae they were fighting, once they were in front of him, it was hard to remember that the illusions weren’t real. His pulse peaked as he tried desperately to get the wings off of her. The spider legged wings that were-- Not… there? His hands were going through them and before he could put the pieces together, he felt a sharp jab to his stomach and the breath leave his body. “Putain,” he wheezed out as he doubled over. The sound of cackling filled the clearing as the small, obnoxious creature flitted around. At least someone was having a good time. Kaden braced himself on his hands and knees, trying to breathe properly again. But it felt like the grass was getting bigger, like the blades might slice him raw. Not real, not real, he had to tell himself it wasn’t real as he shut his eyes tight, focusing on getting his shallow breathing a little deeper. It was hard when panic was creeping in. He kept his eyes closed, felt the ground beneath his fingers. “Catch it,” he choked out. “Have to-- Do you have,” deep gasp, “a net or..?” The giggling and glee persisted in the trees. “Can’t catch, can’t catch, nah nah nah nah nah!” Fae or not, Kaden was really looking forward to whacking this little shit over the head. Once he felt like he could breathe again, Kaden sat up and shrugged off his jacket. Not exactly a great net but it would have to do in a pinch.

“Review lessons are still of benefit.” Athena shrugged. “At least, that’s what I was always taught.” He was still trying to get some sort of imaginary something or other off of her but she was glad to see that the knee to his stomach had done its job. She quickly jumped up and dusted off her thighs, before narrowing her eyes at him. Clearly, she should have been doing this all on her own because even though she was inclined to believe that he was a hunter, he certainly wasn’t acting very much like one. Perhaps that wasn’t entirely fair, if he wasn’t a warden he couldn’t be expected to know just as much about fae as she did, but it didn’t make her any less annoyed. She’d just have to channel whatever annoyance she was feeling toward defeating the fae. “No, I don’t have a net.” She said, biting down on the tip of her tongue. Ignoring the incessant whining of the fae, the way that it made her want to claw her skin off, if she focused too much on it. “Yes. Jacket, that’ll work.” At least something useful can come of this, she thought to herself. “If we get it down here, just throw that over it and I can take care of the rest of it.” A malicious smirk crossed her lips as she looked up to the other hunter. “Then it won’t bother anyone ever again.”

“No one asked you,” Kaden hissed. He didn’t know if she was actually a hunter or even more specifically a warden, but he didn’t care. He was tired of little miss-know-it-all already. He was also tired of feeling his blood pounding in his veins, heart racing. Stupid fucking phobid. Maybe if he told himself what he was fighting, reminded himself in the back of his mind, he could push past all the illusions; he could stop worrying that the grass would cut him up and chop him to little pieces. Putain it was so stupid. “If you don’t have a net then why bother telling me my method is stupid?” he grumbled. He lined up the crossbow where he saw flittering in the trees, railing off shots one after another, hoping it would come close. It squeaked and darted back across the way, staying just out of reach. “Hey, you!” Kaden called out. “Ouh, scary big legs thinks he can talk back. What does he say? Are you going to attack the smaller one again? More more more!” it said, cackling as it darted away again. “Come down here and I’ll look right in your eyes. Think of all the fun you’ll have. I’ll make sure.” That seemed to pique its interest and the phobid peaked out from behind a branch. “You promise?” it asked. Kaden was careful to look to the side, away from the glowing orbs staring back at him. “Come closer and I’ll prom--” The fae got overly excited and swooped down. Just as he’d hoped. “I’ll promise to think about it!” he finished as he threw the jacket over the creature, pulling the ends together and trapping it inside. “Got it!” he shouted.

“Free advice. Seems like you might need it.” Athena spat back. She stretched for a moment, reaching her hands above her head. Readying her posture so that she would be able to act as quickly as was required. The man’s incessant nagging was doing her no favors in the concentration department, but every bothersome experience was a chance for greater growth, she reminded herself. Reminded herself again as he had the sheer audacity to make a remark on her not bringing a net. “I have my other ways and I could’ve gotten to it without it wreaking havoc all over this forest.” However, his teasing and nagging were good for one thing. The phobid seemed keen to cause greater trouble and with the man’s near promise - something that Athena had half a mind to give him a run-down lesson about - it flitted down through the tree branches, cackling in a pitch that even made Athena’s ears ache. The other man grabbed it in his jacket and a smirk crossed Athena’s face as she went over to him and grabbed the jacket, holding it in one hand, the buzzing of the phobid’s annoyance more pleasant now. “What should I do with it first, do you think?” She raised an eyebrow, adjusting her hands’ position so that she held tight to the jacket from below as she quickly unwrapped it and grabbed a hold of the phobid before it could fly away. “I could start with the eyes or the wings. Which do you think is best?”

Kaden wasn’t sure what he expected after he caught it. It was a phobid. They were hunters. If his suspicions were right, she was a warden. It should be easy. “What do you mean first?” he said, brows furrowed as she took the fae in her fingers. “Just kill--” Kaden’s eyes caught sight of the wings, twitching and fluttering in panic, hoping to get away, anywhere but there. He saw the wings. Bigger than any insect’s though similar enough. Much smaller than Regan’s. Nearly the same as Rumpleskuffs. “You promised! You promised! Big legs are all the same! Rotten evil tricky! I’ll make you scared! I will I will I will!” The fae’s voice sounded panicked and pathetic. It was hard to think of it as something worthy of scorn and hate or even fear. Then he heard her, the ire in her voice. “Wait what? Start with-- Why would you-- Just--” Just kill it? Should they kill it? It.. Was it harming anyone? Kaden shook his head, remembered his pulse, remembered the screaming hikers and terrified people. “No torture. Just kill it. Show it one kindness.” His voice was cold, stern. This wasn’t Rumpleskuffs. Or Regan. This creature hurt people. It-- It wasn’t the same. “No, no, no! Stop!” the phobid screamed while under her grasp. He clenched his jaw and tried not to feel.

“I mean how should we go about this?” She looked curiously at the other hunter. Athena wholly ignored the screaming phobid. It served it right, to be scared. Particularly when it had already done so much ever since she arrived in the forest, and who knew what it could have done before then. Her brother might have winced at what she was about to do, she considered for a moment. Just like back with the foireaux cat. “I think it deserves to be dealt with in pieces. Don’t you?” She narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Kindness? To this?” She half-spat. What kind of hunters were in this town? What kind of hunter would she be if she showed such a thing kindness? She grasped it harder, blue-painted nails nearly touching one another as she held it tightly. “Stop this! No, no! I’ll make you pay!” The phobid screamed. This had to be dealt with smoothly and quickly, now. With a quick movement of her hands, Athena sliced into one of its wings before running the blade across its eyes. “One kindness?” She looked up at the other hunter. “I’ll put it out of its misery.” She dug the knife right into where she supposed its heart would be, before dropping it onto the forest floor. “Just like you asked for.”

“Just kill it and be done,” Kaden repeated, voice harsher, but even in tone. He flinched at the sight of her cutting through the fae’s wings and eyes, turning away as she tore through it, like it was nothing. No, he was going to watch her, gaze hard, body still as she killed the creature. The wings twitched a moment as it fell on the ground with a small pathetic thud. Anger boiled through his blood, but it wasn’t at the monster, not now. Kaden reached out and grabbed her wrist, the one that had held the knife, and yanked it, twisted it so her weapon fell beside the creature. “Never do that again.” He stood over her, looking down, voice low and even just as before. “We kill monsters, we don’t torment them. We’re better than them.” He let go of her wrist, practically throwing it back to her. “The longer you take to kill a monster, the more time it has to kill you.” Kaden picked up his jacket and put his crossbow on its strap across his back. “Free advice. I think you might need it.” With that he turned and walked away, uninterested in spending any more time with the warden.

“No.” She replied. Athena knew full well that elongated periods of torture could cause more trouble than they could help, but there was something about his attitude that made her crave acting out. Relishing in the lack of comfort that he felt as she did so. She craved the control rather desperately, and this allowed it. He grabbed her wrist tightly and she winced for a moment before pushing the pain down. Responding with weakness wouldn’t do her any favors. She watched the knife fall to the ground, a certain sort of pain shooting up her arm. Work through the pain. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m the only one who could manage this.” She giggled, then, too high-pitched and carefree for the given scenario. “We kill monsters, and sometimes a bit of a lesson needs to be taught.” Her voice was clipped, repeating words that she’d heard in some variation beforehand. “I know. But this thing wasn’t going to do anything to me. When I kill proper fae, I don’t let them stand a chance. Not once, not now, not ever.” She snorted. “I don’t need your advice. I’m plenty fine just on my own.” She bent down to pick up her knife, running her finger along the face of the blade, before giving a shrug. “See you around sometime, Robin Hood.”

[nananaptime]

Hate To Love You

The request for this was made on Wattpad such a long time ago and it’s finally finished! I hope you like it ^^ 

Masterlist Rules

Requested

Genre: Fluff I guess xD

Word count: 1 797

Summary: You really thought he had bailed....again

I could murder him myself.

My feet were splashing in the ever-melting snow, slowly sipping into my shoes which were not made for this kind of weather. We were supposed to meet in school, we were supposed to work on the group project together, we were supposed to cooperate! I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s not the first time Soonyoung has bailed on something important, especially not when I’m involved in said task. His non-existent presence was nothing new but I would not suffer a bad grade on my record nor would I do his work for him, hence why I’m currently finding myself trudging towards his part of town, determined to make him put effort into this project. 

Holding back wasn’t anything I intended on doing as I banged on his front door, knowing his parents were not home and therefore not worried for a scolding from them, I kept on assaulting his door until he opened it, which didn’t happen. I groaned, growing more and more annoyed for every second that passed. In a moment of aggression, I yanked on the handle, only to have the door swing open and silently granting me access. 

All politeness was out the window by now and I entered the house without announcing my presence. I kicked off my shoes and stalked up the stairs, knowing exactly where Soonyoung’s room was due to having paid visits during the parties which he had a tendency to host. Without bothering to knock on his door, I opened it, ready to dive into a rant about responsibility and respect only to be silenced by the sleeping being tucked into the bed. Doubt instantly grew in my body and I took a couple of steps closer to Soonyoung’s sleeping frame. He looked horrid; extremely pale, desperately cuddling into the blanket covering him, trying to preserve the warmth it provided. I then noted the big glass of water on the bedside table and the medicine sitting beside it. The realisation hit me like a tidal wave. 

He was sick. 

My stomach knotted up with guilt and I turned to sneak out, hoping that he would stay asleep and never having to endure the future moments of mentioning this again, However, the grazing of a hand against mine caused me to freeze in the step and I cursed myself, I’d woken him up.

“Y/N?” I slowly turned around, meeting his tired gaze. He rubbed his eyes before sitting up slightly only to shiver and retreat into the warmth of his covers. “What are you doing here?” I debated on how much I should say, seeing how I wanted to be out of here as fast as possible and not suffer the humiliation of such an incorrect assumption. In the end, I ended up telling him the truth. 

“I thought you bailed on me.” It came out as a murmur and I turned my head away as I said it, not finding it in me to look him in the eyes as I admitted my mistake. A small huff left his lips as he shifted in his bed, searching for a slightly more comfortable position which his fever most likely didn’t allow him.

“Didn’t Seokmin find you?” A small chuckle left my lips. 

“You entrusted Seokmin with the task of letting me know that you’re sick? Seokmin can’t even remember what he ate for breakfast.” He sighed as he realised that I was right before falling silent, seemingly pondering an idea of some sort. As he didn’t seem to be saying anything any time soon, I turned once again to leave. 

“Y/N, wait.” Confused, I turned towards him, silently enquiring for whatever it was he wanted to have said. “My parents aren’t home.” I raised my eyebrows, urging him to proceed. He tried sitting up once again, this time making sure the cover still protected him from the coldness of his bedroom. “And I’m too sick to cook any food.” I now knew exactly where he was going with this and I couldn’t hold in the eye roll which my eyes performed. Then, I gave him a look, intending to refuse and leave but the way he looked started tugging at my heartstrings. I groaned internally as I realised I could not leave him to fend for himself with a good conscience. So, I looked at him, not even bothering to look happy about the situation we were in, and agreed. I expected him to let out a cocky remark, pointing out my weakness for the ones in need, but he just nodded, let out a small thank you and shifted into a lying position once again, soon snoozing away. 

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Now, without the annoying energy, lack of devotion and teasing commentary, he was kind of likeable. I shook my head as I took note of my own thoughts, scolding myself for letting my heart get the best of me before making my way out of the room to see what I could use to cook him something.

It took me about 40 minutes to make a soup of a variety of vegetables, chicken and noodles and bring it to Soonyoung’s room. I placed the bowl on his bed-side table and felt his forehead only to realise he was burning up. After taking a look at the medicine he had taken out, I noticed there was no medicine there for lowering fevers, only for combating colds, which I don’t believe is what he was suffering from. He had most likely been attacked by the flu which was going around at the moment and hence, medicine for colds would not do. I gently woke him up and helped him into a sitting position before enquiring for their medicine cabinet. He let me know it was located in the bathroom on the first floor and while I went to get it, I asked him to start eating the soup, hoping some nutrition would help him retrieve some energy. 

He had burnt his tongue when I came back and I just laughed at the lack of wits in this state, to which he whined at me and let me know that he was too exhausted for his brain to be at its full capacity. I popped some medicine into my hand and handed him that as well as the glass of water, urging him to take it and then continue to eat the soup, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth this time. He did as he was told and for a couple of minutes, we were surrounded by the silence of the room, the only sound coming from the slurping of noodles. 

Once he was finished, I noticed he had gained some colour on his cheeks, alerting me of the possibility of a quick recovery. He placed the bowl back onto the table and told me he wanted to get out of the bed. I looked at him, unsure if that was a good idea, only to have him tell me that he wouldn’t be able to sleep either way and was in the mood for a movie. Due to him looking better than before, I decided that it wouldn’t hurt and gestured for him to follow me while inquiring for what movie he’d like to watch.

We ended up watching Finding Nemo which was pretty cute but once Soonyoung fell asleep on my shoulder I questioned the necessity of watching a movie at all. I turned my head towards him slightly, careful not to wake him up, and cursing myself for the way the look of him started pulling on my heartstrings again. 

I thought I’d left these feelings behind long ago…

He stirred, causing me to freeze for a moment, thinking he had woken up. As he started mumbling in his sleep, I relaxed slightly, relieved that he managed to get some shut-eye, even if it was on me. While he kept on mumbling, I realised how no feelings of annoyance were left in my body and the one emotion which had taken over was none other than affection. I wanted him to be okay, I wanted to take care of him until that happened, I wanted to reach out and push the fringe out of his eyes…

He stirred again and all of a sudden my name left his lips in a small whisper. I froze again, and this time I stayed like that, not knowing if I wanted to find out why he said my name. 

He said it again, this time clearer. I glanced towards him, waiting for a continuation. When the only thing he did was cuddle into me more, I let that hope go and tried calming down my heart the best I could instead, not yet ready to let go of the previous annoyance I had for him. 

When he woke up he was more like himself than he’d been since I arrived; the fever was down, the clinginess gone and he looked at me like I had grown two heads. 

“What!?” I asked, annoyed and wanting the weak Soonyoung back, he was easier to handle. 

“I just don’t understand why you would take care of me, you don’t like me!” 

“Well, I couldn’t just let you die all alone, now could I?”

“I wouldn’t die! I would just wait for my parents to come home.!”

“And you would still be sick, you didn’t even have the right medicine out.” 

“I was delirious when getting that, okay!” 

We looked at each other for a while before bursting into fits of laughter, finding the quarrel ridiculous. 

“Wah, you might not be so bad Y/N, maybe we can actually get along.”

“Hah, you would like that wouldn’t you, who wouldn’t want to get along with me.” He stopped laughing at that, looking at me with an adoring smile,

“I would actually, more than you know.” His smile caused an inability in me to form any more words and we just stared at each other for a while before he leaned back onto my shoulder, mentioning how he was more comfortable in that position. I scolded myself as I felt a blush rising on my face, grateful that Soonyoung was unable to catch the falling of my walls. That is until he perked his head up and leaned on my shoulder with his chin instead of his cheek, resulting in my face being on full display. 

“You know what?” he asked.

“What?”

“We should go on a date.” I looked at him so fast that I suspected I suffered whiplash. He laughed at my flustered state before settling his cheek on my shoulder again, mumbling that he’d take that as a yes. 

[writethehousedown]

Trust Fund, Gold Tongue 2/7 (Crygi) - Peridot

A/N: Thank you to everyone who showed the last chapter some love! I’m really enjoying writing this little universe, and I hope you’re enjoying it so far! My interpretation of this prompt is minuscule, but it’s there if you squint, I promise! As always my sideblog is @artificialperidot, and you can also check this fic out on ao3 if you’re feeling extra generous! Hope you enjoy!

Gigi wondered how she came to sit around a table with all four of her parents around one table at the same time. It was a modern day miracle, seeing they all hated each other in some way- even the couples couldn’t stand each other half of the time. But she supposed their family had an appearance to keep up, and she didn’t want to think about how the tabloids would document their secret family hatred if someone leaked the information that they were sitting at different tables in the dining hall. 

The tabloids would be absolutely correct, though.

As a little kid, Gigi wanted nothing more than for her families to come together. At seventeen, she realised that the adults sitting opposite from her were all idiots.

Gigi loved her mom, she really did, but her taste in men was appalling to say the least. Her newest man, James, had only been around for about a month, and Gigi was already anticipating the messy breakup, where she’d have to pick up the pieces on her mother’s behalf, holding her whilst she cried and convincing her to get her life together again. It was a cycle that was used to, and one that didn’t look like it would break any time soon. Her mom cycled through men like tracks on a really terrible CD, and Gigi had never liked a single one of them. The worst of all of them, though, was her dad.

She did not want to even think about him, let alone sit through a three course meal with him every evening. Or that 30 year old with bleach blonde hair hanging off of his arm who had asked Gigi to call her mom. As if.

The five of them sat around the restaurant table in the busy country club dining hall, and Gigi found herself in a world of her own, absentmindedly twirling her straw in her drink and ignoring the chatter of the others around the table. Her parents made painfully awkward small talk between them as they waited for their meals to arrive, something about business finances or their new cars or the stock market. Gigi zoned out - her parents never really seemed interested in including her in their conversations. Not that Gigi would’ve wanted to talk to them, anyway.

She found it funny, though, that none of them would want to be within 50 feet of each other if it wasn’t for her. She was the reason they all ended up at her dad’s country club every summer. She usually lived with her mom in their penthouse, and put up with whatever boyfriends she had, because although it wasn’t perfect, anything was better than her dad’s house. But, legally, her dad was supposed to see her at least a few weeks a year, and so she and her mom and whoever her mom was seeing were all dragged to this hellhole every summer. 

Three months she inwardly reminded herself. Three more months, and then she’d be eighteen, and her parents would finally let her buy a place of her own, and she would never have to set foot in a country club again. She’d been begging to buy a house of her own from the day she turned sixteen, but her parents would hear none of it, telling her that she was far too young to be trusted to spend that much money all at once. They didn’t seem to have an issue when she blew thousands on clothes or cars or house parties all at once, though. The hypocrites.

Her eyes scanned the restaurant around her, searching for a distraction, and she caught sight of the guy she had thrown her drink at earlier - her dad’s friend, David or Dave or something. She noted his change of shirt from the blue polo that had been drenched in pink lemonade, and smiled at the memory. He got what he deserved, she thought. Nothing made her more mad than people who were rude to the staff.

She was sad she had to run away without that girl though. Crystal. She was pretty adorable. 

She hoped she’d see her around again, soon.

Before long, a waiter came by their table and served their food, plates piled high with steak and grilled veg and some sort of fancy sauce on the side. Gigi’s mouth watered - as much as she hated having dinner with her family, the food was never a let down.

She was halfway through a mouthful of roast beef when her mom started talking again, but this time it was to her. 

“You know, Gigi, James’s nephew is going to be spending a few weeks at the country club this summer,” she said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Oh, cool,” Gigi replied, disinterested.

“His name’s Matthew. He’s around your age, too,” she said, nodding and sharing a knowing look with the others around the table. “We were all thinking…maybe the two of you could, you know, go on a date.”

Gigi almost choked on her mouthful.

Go on a what?!

“Um, thanks, but no thanks.” she replied, her voice a little shaky. She could feel her heart start pounding in her chest a little harder and a little faster than she would’ve liked. 

“Oh, Gigi, give him a chance! He’s a nice young man, isn’t he, James?” her mom said, nudging her boyfriend with her arm. James nodded dumbly, before shoving another mouthful of potato into his mouth.

Tension rose in Gigi’s body, her mom’s words ringing in her ears. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but I’m not really looking to date someone right now,” she said, doing her best to be polite and not get too emotional.

“Come on Gigi, you’re almost eighteen. It’s about time you got a boyfriend,” her dad butted in, his tone seeming too aggressive for the conversation. She was surprised that her mom and dad had actually agreed on something for once, even if it was for entirely different reasons. Her mom, deep down, wanted to protect her, for her to be happy - her dad wanted her to be someone else’s responsibility.

And Gigi wanted anything but a boyfriend.

Now would seem like a good time for Gigi to remind her parents that she was a lesbian, but she didn’t particularly want to have another screaming match in a public dining hall. She had tried to have that conversation before, and it didn’t end well. She pictured the way her mom had looked so scared when her dad had yelled and rampaged through their house. How she had told her afterwards to not bring it up in front of her father again. How guilty she had felt for causing her dad to explode like that, and for making her mom so scared. 

Her parents had broken up not long after that. And Gigi never brought it up again.

She had kept her love life completely private from then on, sharing secret rendezvous with girls at parties that she would never see again, and playing the role of the straight girl in front of her family. And, her family put a bandage on the stab wounds and acted as if nothing had ever happened.

But, pretending to be straight and actually dating a boy were completely different things, and there was no way she was going to let her family force her into a relationship. No way.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested. End of story,” she said firmly, her tone cutting, and it seemed to shut them up.

The five of them ate the rest of their meals in relative silence, the tension so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife. Gigi was suddenly thankful for the old saying that it was rude to talk with your mouth full. Gigi kept her mouth full as often as possible.

Dinner came and went, and desserts were ordered, Gigi opting for a raspberry sorbet that was new to the menu this year. Her parents ordered more drinks to go alongside their desserts, and Gigi wished she was a couple of years older so that she could have a few shots to make sitting through dinner more bearable.

Minutes ticked by like hours as she waited for her dessert to arrive, to give her something sweet to distract from the sour atmosphere. When it did though, she was met by an even sweeter surprise.

“One raspberry sorbet?” a voice asked from behind her. 

She looked up to see a familiar face placing the pink dessert down on their table and her heart skipped a beat. 

Crystal. The girl that had infatuated Gigi to the point of provoking her to throw her drink in a grown man’s face. She wasn’t too easy to forget.

Her red curls were tucked behind her ears, and she looked as though a faint blush was creeping over her cheeks. She smiled, giving Gigi a knowing look and a small nod, before walking away from their table, bouncing a little as she walked.

God she was cute.

Gigi was suddenly far less interested in her dessert.

“Uh, excuse me for a moment,” she said, and before her parents could protest, she abruptly stood up from the table and left, set on going after Crystal. She wasn’t exactly sure what she intended to say to her, but just seeing her had flipped her mood on its head entirely, and God knows Gigi needed some serotonin.

Plus, flirting with a member of staff would make her summer a little more bearable. Because what her parents didn’t see was none of their business, right?

It didn’t take her long to catch up to Crystal, and just before she made her way back into the staff kitchen area, Gigi grabbed her wrist and tugged her out of the restaurant, around a corner in the porch where they couldn’t be seen.

Crystal looked a little surprised, and took a second to catch her breath, tucking her hands into the front pocket on her apron. “A hello would’ve been nice,” she said in a slightly hushed tone. “You scared me.”

“Nice to see you again too, Crystal,” Gigi replied, and Crystal giggled softly, her nose scrunching up causing Gigi’s stone heart to melt, just a little. From this close together, Gigi could make out the freckles that speckled the girl’s face, and she thought they made her even more beautiful.

Crystal bit her lip. “Um, I never got a chance to thank you, for, ya know… helping me out earlier today,” she said, scratching the side of her temple slightly.

Gigi smirked, thinking about the way the man looked with his wet hair matted to his forehead like dripping curtains. “It was nothing, really. That guy deserved it.”

“His shirt will be sticky forever now,” Crystal said, putting on the voice of a maniacal evil scientist. “The perfect revenge.”

Gigi chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief at how adorably goofy this girl was. But, she wouldn’t be Gigi Goode if she didn’t take an opportunity to mess with her a little when she saw the chance.

“His shirt is not the only thing I can make wet and sticky,” she said, with a cocky wink and a shit-eating grin, before dissolving into laughter.

Crystal’s mouth fell open in a fake gasp as she pretended to clutch her pearls and scolded Gigi, telling her to wash her mouth out with soap, but Gigi couldn’t help but notice the tiniest blush that had appeared on her cheeks, and the way her eyes had widened for just a second.

Adorable.

“So, uh, who were you eating dinner with? Is that your family?” Crystal asked, looking for a way to change the subject.

“Sadly, yes,” Gigi said with a roll of her eyes.

“Which ones are your parents?”

“All of them.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“It’s okay,” Gigi said with a small chuckle. “Technically only three of them are, because my mom hasn’t married her boyfriend. Like she ever will,” Gigi laughed.

“Your dad owns this place, right?”

Gigi sighed. “Uh-huh,” she said, her voice monotonous.

“Which one is your dad?” Crystal asked, peering her head around the corner to glance at her table.

“The one in the grey blazer.” Gigi gestured towards him slightly, making sure they were still hidden from sight. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t wanna get fired. I need to make sure no one throws a lemonade in his face on my behalf.”

Gigi burst out laughing at that, trying her best to keep her volume to a minimum but not doing a very good job. “Oh believe me, if I could throw a drink in his face, I would.”

Crystal grinned back at her, and Gigi noticed the perfect dimples in each of her cheeks, which somehow made her even more adorable. She found herself drawn to her chocolate eyes, gazing at the twinkle behind her pupils and her long eyelashes that framed them, like they were priceless works of art, which, of course, they were.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and in any other situation, Gigi would’ve made a move. She was never one to wait patiently for the right moment - she was someone that always knew what she wanted, and right now, she wanted nothing more than to cup Crystal’s cheeks and plant a kiss on her lips.

But, she had to remind herself that she was in the middle of a country club, where anyone could see the two of them. And she had a reputation to uphold. She’d need to wait until they were somewhere more private.

Plus, she didn’t want to frighten Crystal. The girl already looked like she was in a constant state of panic as it was, and Gigi thought a kiss would probably tip her anxiety over the edge.

She also wasn’t positive that Crystal liked girls, either, but judging from her messy, curly bob of hair, dyed red, and her nails, short and painted with black nail polish, it seemed a likely possibility.

“I, uh, I should get back to work,” Crystal said, looking away awkwardly.

“Yeah, you probably should,” Gigi replied. Crystal flashed her a pitiful smile, as if to say sorry, that she didn’t want to cut their interaction short, and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder how this girl, this ordinary girl who technically worked for her dad, managed to make her heart flutter with just a simple smile.

But Gigi didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. Not unless she knew she’d see Crystal again soon.

“Hey, are you working again tomorrow?” she asked, an idea popping into her head.

“Yup. 10 hour shift.” Crystal replied, practically groaning.

Gigi smirked. “When’s your break? I need someone to play tennis with.”

Crystal looked taken aback at her proposition. “Uh, I think I have a break at 3ish -”

“Perfect. Then I’ll meet you on the west tennis courts at three,” Gigi smiled, certainty in her tone.

“Uh, cool! I should warn you though, I haven’t played tennis since summer camp when I was like thirteen,” Crystal giggled, looking a little nervous despite the smile plastered on her face.

Gigi raised her eyebrows. “Then I guess I’ll just have to show you the ropes again,” she said, fully aware of the confidence she exuded, and gave Crystal a sly wink, so small that if Crystal had broken eye contact for a second, she would’ve missed it. Judging by the flush of pink on her cheeks, though, she had definitely not missed it.

Crystal grinned. “I look forward to it,” she said with a nod, before slipping back around the corner and going back to her work.

Gigi waited a couple seconds after Crystal left before walking back to her table, making sure to not look too suspicious despite the smile tattooed on her face. When she sat back down again, she was met by the scowl of her father.

“What took you so long?” he grumbled.

“Girl things,” she replied without missing a beat, because she knew that it would shut him up. And, it wasn’t entirely untrue, either.

When she looked down at her plate, though, she discovered that her raspberry sorbet had melted, and was no more than a pink puddle. 

Gigi didn’t mind at all.

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

animaniacs - s1e40: puppet rulers

episode summary: after seeing how small children react to the characters on their favourite tv show, brain decides that he and pinky will be children’s tv characters, too, before cryogenically freezing themselves for long enough that nostalgia tricks everyone into loving them enough to... elect them world leaders.

because people are totally thinking about old cartoons thirty years after they came off the air, right? that’s a thing normal people do.

the rundown:

we open in 1954.

nobody knows when in 1954 though, because whoever owns this calender isn’t ticking off the days. never mind! i’m sure they have more important things to do.

like welding some shit together, or whatever, like this guy is doing. “there. albert einstien’s latest experiment will be a powerful success.” if it’s albert einstien’s experiment, i don’t know why he hired this guy to do it, but i guess that’s between the big man and himself.

turns out the experiment only needs to be “powerful enough to pull five boxcars and a little caboose”, which is fine. fair enough if albert einstien wants to outsource production of his trainset. he’s probably busy being photographed for ridiculous facebook memes that say shit like “masks give you HIV”. 🙄 

meanwhile, as the music swells and the theme tune comes into the musical layers, we see pinky walking towards brain, who is preparing his coffin. it has a little alarm clock on it so he doesn’t miss bill nye the science guy.

“i’m finished, pinky.” he proclaims. he sure is. “with this cryonic capsule, we shall freeze ourselves and awaken fourty years in the future.” which i suppose is a little less morbid than, yknow, being dead. and bill nye should still be on tv, so it isn’t all bad.+

“egad, brain. what will we do in the future?”

“i don’t know, pinky, but it has to be better than what we’re doing now.”

i feel for him. i have never seen these mice in a well equipped cage. would it kill y’all to put some fucking climbers in there??? jesus.

suddenly, some children appear.

“uncle albert,” they cry. “uncle albert, it’s time.” ominous.

“but kiddies, uncle albert is doing an experiment and did you say it’s time.”

ominous! fortunately, “time” here means “time to sit down and watch tv.”

“hey kids!” says the friendly propellor worm on screen. “what time is it?” it is in fact “TIME FOR MEANIE!” as uncle albert and his fluffy brood proudly complain. yaaaay!

YAAAAAAAAAY.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

anyway turns out meany’s a bit of a dick.

pinky and brain watch on as the worm gets beaten to death. they are not particularly interested in the violence taking place, until Tiny Einstien Boy Edition (tinestien?) mentions that he wishes “treacle and meanie was president.”

to which brain makes this face.

hm. this is the face i make at my dentist when he asks to see if i’ve been maintaining my crown. sorry that my last dentist exploded my teeth or whatever. that’s kind of why i’m here.

“pinky, are you pondering what i’m pondering?” i want to take a moment out here to point out how fucking tiny brain is pinky is laying on his chest. horizontal and he is still taller than brain i just/?? he’s so fucking small. pinky could just pick him up. he couldn’t do anything. pinky could fucking yeet him like a basketball. or maybe just give him a nice hug.

anyway it turns out brain finally has a use for his cryochamber! he wants to get himself on Time For Meany and “endear himself in the hearts of children.”

anyway so once those kids grow up and become world leaders, they will remember brain fondly enough in their hearts so that... when he thaws out, they’ll, uh, elect him president. not entirely... foolproof, perhaps? but on the other hand if the nice couple from out of the box ran for joint prime minister i’d be pretty hype about it. out of the box doot doot out of the box.

pinky wants his show name to be “big ears.”

brain is more into the idea of being The Iconoclast, an Unconventional Eccentric Who Marches To A Different Drummer. privately that sounds like every single half-bearded nerd man at uni who basically accused me of having my boyfriend do all my coursework for me. does brain intend to hang around cardboard forbidden planet and tell the puppet girls that they don’t have the right to be into guardians of the galaxy? is brain going to be passive aggressive about that 2:2 i got in sculpting and rigging, thomas?????

“oh. i thought maybe you could be noodle noggin.”

we then cut to the studio, where the Fat Ceo Man wants the puppeteer to come up with new puppet characters for the next show. unfortunately, the next show is in three minutes, so he’s not very happy.

good thing he gets this suspicious package in the mail, eh?

as expected, it’s full of mice.

“oh my gosh!” cries our man, who has never seen a mouse before, apparently. “talking puppets!”

“actually we are two laboratory mice who wish to be on your show as part of an intricate plan to take over the world.”

“oh, wow, these are really good.”

so the boys make it on! they probably gave mr puppet man a religious experience, but we don’t see him again, so it’s fine.

“hold it, meany! everyone must meet our two new friends! this is big ears! take a bow, big ears!”

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

“and i am the iconoclast, an unconventional eccentric who marches to a different drummer--”

“but you may call me noodle noggin.”

you can’t see it very well in the last image, because uncle albert’s calender is in the way, but this is basically every episode. big ears says something, noodle noggin says something else that’s slightly more pretentious, meany hits him with a big stick.

everyone fucking loves it.

(fuck me. i never actually looked at this screencap close up before. why is pinky in a mousetrap?? why does it have their real names on it???? and why the FUCK do i not have a little brain toy in his own tiny wagon??? hello??? socialist police????)

unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and all projects with talking mice in it must be cancelled absurdly early. and an elmyra reboot of big ears and noodle noggin would be pointless, because brain already gets hit on the head in every episode, so eventually brain has to make the announcement.

“this program has been our last show.” he just sort of... says it, and you can tell pinky definitely wasn’t expecting it. he looks genuinely sad.

but not as sad as the children. even mousetrap pinky looks distraught.

the mice don’t care, obviously, and waste no time in jetting back to the Studio Fridge to activate their cryonic chamber, where pinky makes a very interesting point.

“but brain, why are we freezing ourselves at the height of our popularity?

“to stay fresh in their memory, pinky. we must, to paraphrase milton berle, ‘leave them wanting more’. i’ll see you in the future, pinky.”

there are no good frames for that portion of dialogue but whatever! let’s see how well that goes for them.

conclusion:

so the first thing the boys do upon waking up from ice and dust is to broadcast themselves on tv. “remember me?” asks brain. “it’s your old pal, the iconoclast.”

“and his old pal! zort! big ears!”

it’s very cute.

unfortunately these people are less impressed. they just sort of point, in a scary way. brain invites them all down to the tv station to “shower us in praise and material gifts,” and waits for the fans’ inevitable arrival.

“at last, we can write our own ticket, pinky. no longer in glorious suffering.” alright, hubert von vestra! calm down.

which is when the fans show up. hopefully the fact that they are all morbidly obese is like... coincidental, or to show off the fact that they’re all wearing kid tshirts, right? surely pinky and the brain wouldn’t tell me, a disabled person, that fat people are Bad And Losers? surely not.

“at last, my public has come to shower me with gifts.”

“guess again, noodle noggin!”

“huh.”

“you abandoned us!” cries the crowd. “you went away! you ruined our lives!” as brain tries to grapple with the fact that they are not, in fact, worshipping his image (and uploading pictures of him in the garden of mindy dress to e621) they present him with inordinately expensive therapy bills, because america be that way.

“PAY EM.” yells a gruff man with terrible facial hair. pinky and brain decide they would rather not.

honestly, i’m going to have to give this one to brain. sorry, brain. pinky did make the point earlier, and maybe if brain had thought about it, they might have been able to edit the plan a little and have things work out differently?

or maybe he was just tired of getting hit on the head all the time. ask pinky about that one, b.

brain: 3 pinky: 3 outside influence: 5

“quickly, pinky, we have work to do.”

“you mean taking over the world?”

“no. like finding a good hiding place.”