#wasn’t such a coward when he called us ignorant

[hogwartslegacypics]

finally did what we all wanted to do when sebastian called us ignorant 😇

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 177

Now Dan is no coward. He’s not. 

But this stupid child body does have an effect on his reactions to things and honestly it’s a horrible thing that’s too small and too weak for him to use all his abilities. He could barely manage a fireball if he concentrated, yet everything caught fire with a mere outburst! His control was utterly gone, and a tantrum resulted in having to wear a stupid child leash backpack. 

It wasn’t like he was really a child, and it wasn’t like he’d get lost or some stupid shit that Danny would insist. Ugh, this isn’t even fair, technically he was older than him yet was stuck in a smaller body that he kept tripping over! 

Urgh, he’s even insisting on rewarding ‘good behavior’ and shit- must have talked to Jazz or something- because… Oh. No he wants the constellation bear, give! His star bear now, no takes back and, urgh, stupid baby body! 

Well, on the other hand, it’s utterly hilarious how much Danny sputters whenever he calls him Mom, not to mention strangers’ utter befuddlement. He ignores how Danny seems to be trying his best to live up ro the title. 

But! As he was saying, he’s no coward! He’s also not an idiot though, and having no control over his powers isn’t exactly a good thing. It’s really not a good thing when there’s a murderous-looking hero that he thinks he might have maimed in the future- which they apparently remember- staring down at him. So, he has to call in the big guns to fix this. 

“Mom, there’s a creepy fruitloop staring at me!” “There’s WHAT?!” Hah. Take that hero he doesn’t remember the name of.

(Behold the Grumpiest of Babies)

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 1

So figured I could show what else I am working on aside from Salt in the Bones with @clockwayswrites. I still blame Clock for this though, they are way too fun to brainstorm with, and I have too many WIPs already. Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Danny was sick and tired of this city, this entire dimension in fact. And this vigilante family, or whatever they were, were more dogged in their pursuit of him than the GIW or his parents had ever been - all this for a few gizmos.

Danny rolled his eyes and ducked a kick from the most violent midget since Youngblood.

Seriously he was just trying to build a portal home, and it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone. He’d mostly stolen from villains anyway! And Wayne industries was like a multibillion dollar company, they shouldn’t miss a few scraps or prototypes. It would hardly put a dent in their budget.

Midget was back on his feet and had now drawn a freaking sword. Yeah, this was it, Danny needed to leave before bigger and battier arrived. He faked left but then spun right around the probably actual literal kid with the real sword, jumped to the railing and kicked off towards the next rooftop. Ignoring gravity’s pull for a just a couple of seconds was the only reason he landed safely on the other roof.

He felt a moment of worry that the kid would try following him and glanced back, but the child was fuming in safety on the other side, having lost that grappling gun thing he used earlier in the chase, it seemed Danny was safe for now. The kids mouth was moving, probably talking to more of the heroes.

He wasn’t gonna be safe for long, but Danny allowed himself a moment to breathe in relief. Suddenly his breath stuck coldly in his throat and he froze. Impossible! The shades of this city barely tickled his throat, he hadn’t met anything that would even halfway classify as a ghost to his senses. Urgency was like a cold hand around his throat, a desperate longing hummed in his core as he slowly spun trying to get a sense of where - he only managed to see a blur of red before a heavy weight knocked into him slamming him to the ground. The cold mist in his throat was pushed out in a pained oof, and his head bounced first on one thing then another, but that didn’t matter because his core was singing; close, not alone, hug!

Danny’s head spun, his whole body felt pained and smushed. A man, no a freaking tank, was laying on top of him. Body armor dug into his ribs, probably something there was bent or broken and he felt certain that ominous red helmet had left a mark where it hit his forehead. Also his hair felt a bit wet beneath him. Yet that didn’t matter because he was so overwhelmed, warm with hands and feet tingling from the humming joy in his chest. Hug! His core sang again.

Somewhere in the fog in his head he recognized this was no hug, but he hurt, his head was spinning, and he was not alone and he was happy and wasn’t that more important than a bit of pain? Oo o oO

Jason was unsure what was going on.

He’d managed to tackle the elusive thief Dick had so “creatively” nicknamed the Ghost for his ability to go invisible and the inability for them to land a decent hit on him. In fact if he hadn’t seen footage from previous run-ins with the man, Jason would have thought they wildly exaggerated his skills.

After all the man had frozen up strangely when Jason pulled himself onto the rooftop as he listened only with half an ear to the demon brat angrily grumbling in the comms, that he would have had him had he not been a coward who ran away all the time. Their thief was slowly turning around as if looking for something, the green glass of his goggles reflected in the moonlight and for a moment gave the illusion they were glowing.

Jason had not wasted a moment, got to his feet, crossed the distance in a mere three large steps before he crashed into the man - so, he’d halfway expected the man to move and therefore hadn’t prepared to soften another person’s landing. His helmet hit the shorter man’s forehead and his head rebounded and hit the roof with a sound that made Jason internally wince. The next moment there was a snapping sound and a gasp as the man’s ribcage was caught between the roof and Jason - he really wore no armor, just that thin hoodie. No matter what B said about the danger of the stolen items, Jason was really starting to doubt they had a budding super villain on hand.

He immediately made a move to get up, but stopped, a strange feeling of something overtaking him. It took a moment for him to discern because of the dichotomy, but it was… happiness? What the fuck, it wasn’t his emotions, that made no sense. The pits had only ever sent him rage and in rare moments gruesome satisfaction. This was joy, he felt almost like he was floating caught in a wave at the beach, weightless, happy, warm in the sun. He shook his head pushing the foreign emotions away like he would the pit and focused on his dazed perp.

There was something wet glistening in his unruly black hair.

“Fuck,” Jason muttered, thankfully too low for the helmet to project, but loud enough that he got a breathless but insistent “report” back from Bruce where he was clearly hurrying toward their destination.

“I knocked the Ghost down, he’s bleeding from a head wound,” he muttered at his comms as he pulled the goggles up to get a look his eyes to check for signs of concussion, but immediately froze. The goggles, he’d thought it was a trick of the light earlier, but no, his eyes were glowing - bright and green and just a shade lighter than the Lazarus pits. A shudder ran cold down his back. Somehow the foreign emotions were coming from him, Jason was sure of it, but it explained absolutely nothing! Unrestrained joy? Was this some kind of shock response?

More footsteps landed on the roof and Jason didn’t need to look to know it was Bruce with the Brat along for the ride. He finally remembered he’d been trying to get off the other man at some point.

Oo o oO

No, no, no, Danny’s core protested when the other ghost moved away, and he clutched onto what he could grab, which he dazedly recognized as a very nicely muscled arm. The other arm, because human shaped ghosts have two arms (good job Danny), supported Danny by holding onto one of his arms and that was good. Getting upright gave him the worst moment of vertigo, and his breath whooshed out of him. His legs were like jello and didn’t support him, but that didn’t matter, because his new friend had a good firm grip, could probably even hold him up entirely without Danny clutching his arm, good friend, mine. He butted his head into his chest because that was what he could reach and just leaned there. His core hummed so happily he felt like he’d almost shake apart.

Friend.

Mine

Good friend

…

Why no response?…

Hello? Danny was confused, why wasn’t he getting a response. Also why did his head and chest hurt so bad?

“Tt, what is the matter with him?”

The question, delivered in a haughty voice was like a bucket of ice water on his senses. He gasped and pushed away from where he’d been nuzzling some guy’s chest! Alarmed, he stumbled, but dodged the hands reaching for him, to support him, to catch him, he wasn’t sure. There was the big bat and the midget and the tank in the red helmet; the guy who felt like a ghost and he just wanted nothing more than to go back to him, and- Danny shuddered taking another step back, his face was hot and flaming red right now. This was, this was- he couldn’t-

Hiding his powers be damned; he sunk through the roof.

So embarrassing! He closed his eyes fighting tears as he sank down down down, all the way into the ground where they for sure couldn’t follow him. All the while his insides screamed, because he didn’t want to be lonely anymore. Fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was so sick and tired of this city.

So... yeah hope you enjoyed this, now I can reveal why I blame Clock, they said and I quote "Danny, like a cat with catnip suddenly" and now Danny is a cat, what can you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Jason's gonna have to lure this feral ghost in slowly with food and hugs.

edited with link to the next part:next Masterpost where you can subscribe: link

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.

But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.

“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”

The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.

Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.

The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.

For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.

Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.

His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.

———

“Alright, kiddo, good job.”

Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.

“You did great.”

“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”

His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”

Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.

(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)

Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.

“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”

He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”

“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”

Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.

He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.

He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.

As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.

“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”

“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”

“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”

“Hunk —”

Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.

“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”

Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.

“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”

Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.

“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”

Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”

A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”

Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.

“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”

Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”

Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.

———

The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.

Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.

Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.

But he can tell something’s off.

Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.

How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.

Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.

“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).

Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”

“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”

Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.

Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.

“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.

Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.

Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.

He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.

“Can you write mission plans in pink?”

The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.

Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.

“…Why?”

“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it’s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.

He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.

“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”

Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.

“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”

He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.

“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”

Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”

To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.

“You sound like my mother.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”

Lance does.

“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.

“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”

Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.

“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”

The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.

“You prayed?”

“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”

“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”

Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”

Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”

“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”

Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.

“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.

It takes a moment for it to click.

Shiro considers banging his head against the table.

“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.

“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.

“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”

“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”

Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.

“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”

“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”

“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”

Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.

“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”

Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”

Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”

Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.

He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”

Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”

[augiewrites]

“secret admirer” - dead poets society (part 6)

summary: y/n is introduced to the dead poets society and faces a shocking realization

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.2k

previous | next

Morning was quickly melting into the afternoon, and Y/N had yet to get out of bed

Currently, they were staring at the ceiling, thinking about a certain brown haired annoyance. Thinking about how nice his voice sounded when he recited Shakespeare—about how nice his voice would sound reciting the poetry being delivered to them. He wasn’t that bad when Y/N really thought about it.

They needed to stop thinking.

Thankfully, a distraction swiftly entered the room, launching a muffin at Y/N’s head.

“If you’re not going to get out of bed, you at least need to eat something,” Quinn started in on Y/N, “are you dying? Be honest.”

“Physically? No.” Y/N grimaced, “Bran? Really?”

“If you wanted a chance at anything good, you should have gotten out of bed.”

A stare down.

“You’ve been shutting me out, Y/N. Remember when we used to be friends?”

Y/N picked at the muffin, mumbling, “It’s not on purpose.”

Quinn’s frustration turned to worry as they sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know. My parents are on my ass about my grades, I have a fat crush on a stranger, and all my time is being taken up by schoolwork that I couldn’t care less about.”

Quinn smirked at Y/N, “Seems like you do know, bud.”

“I just wish I knew what the end goal was,” Y/N’s voice cracked, “if he even has one.”

“He has to come forward at some point, Y/N. Either that, or he slips up and you find out anyway. If he doesn’t, then he’s a coward and doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

_________________________________________

Y/N ventured out for dinner that evening after spending the afternoon ignoring their responsibilities with Quinn.

They were enjoying themselves until six familiar boys entered the dining hall. Usually Y/N would be happy to see them, but today their presence did nothing but remind them of all the bad emotions swirling around their head.

The group of boys gave Y/N friendly smiles and a few waves from across the room as Meeks broke off and headed their way.

He sat down in the empty seat beside Quinn, blushing slightly.

Meeks gave Quinn a small smile and a nod before turning to Y/N, “Will you be there tonight?”

Y/N pushed some stray carrots around their plate, “I don’t know, Steven…”

“Y/N, you have to come,” a nervous glance at Quinn, “you’ll understand. Might even help feed your soul a bit.”

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but to smile, “Yes, nerd—I’ll be there.”

“You won’t regret this. Trust.”

The boy shot a smile at Y/N, and then to Quinn before leaving the table—returning to his friends that had been periodically sending confused looks across the room.

Quinn was gaping at Y/N.

“What was that? Where are you going? Is he going to kill you? Should I be worried?”

Y/N let out an incredulous laugh, “I think I’ll be fine…not really sure where we’re going, though.”

“To his killing lair, probably.”

“I could take him.”

_________________________________________

Y/N slipped outside that night and was thankful that the temperature had yet to drop below freezing.

They were going to ditch if Meeks didn’t show up in the next five minutes. A guard dog was barking in the distance, and Y/N didn’t need a demerit on top of everything else.

Meeks’ hushed voice calling their name snapped them out of their thoughts. Pitts was trailing along behind him.

“Come on,” Meeks took Y/N by the wrist, “follow us.”

The further the trio moved away from campus and into the woods, the more worried Y/N was that Quinn was right.

“You guys aren’t taking me out here to kill me right?”

The boys laughed with a chorus of “no” and “trust us.”

“You sure,” Y/N grinned, “the cloaks aren’t really helping your case.”

Meeks exclaimed, “It’s cold!” as Pitts simultaneously laughed out, “it’s not a ritual killing if we don’t wear matching outfits.”

“Not funny,” Meeks pointed an accusatory finger at Pitts before looking at Y/N, “we’re here—watch your step.”

Y/N entered the small cave and was met with varying looks of surprise from four other boys.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Charlie blurted out.

Neil stepped forward, pushing on Charlie’s shoulder so he would take a seat, “Don’t mind him, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to be here.”

Y/N gave the boy a smile, looking around the cave in awe, “What is this?”

“This,” Knox outstretched his arms, gesturing around the small space, “is the Dead Poets Society.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N let out a small laugh.

“Here, take a seat,” Meeks guided them to a flat outcropping of rock before looking around at the others with a smile, “let’s get started.”

_________________________________________

After the boys threw a variety of snacks onto an outstretched coat, they recited an excerpt from a worn looking book.

Thus, the meeting commenced.

The boys went around the circle, reading various writings from the book and some of their own creation. Y/N’s heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time.

Todd held out the book in offering, his eyes twinkling in a way they had never seen, “Y/N?”

Y/N took the book with no hesitation, flipping through the pages until it landed on one of their favorites from Whitman.

Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams, I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and hands Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you, Your true soul and body appear before me, They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking, suffering, dying.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear, I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you. O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing but you. […]

The boys cheered—Y/N’s heart soared.

I could easily fall in love with any of these boys, they thought, my poet could be anyone here, and I would be the happiest person on the planet.

Charlie—who had been uncharacteristically quiet thus far—gently took the book from Y/N, standing up as he cleared his throat.

“This poem,” Charlie thumbed through the book before looking around the cave, his eyes lingering on Y/N’s for a beat, “reminds me of someone whom I admire.”

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

Y/N suddenly had tunnel vision, and they barely registered Neil springing into a Shakespearian monologue.

Dalton? That poem—could he really?…

~~~

final part

a/n: the next part will be the last <;/3

taglist: @vvnbxz @edb954

[treasuringizu]

Thinking about how Izuku would subconsciously abandon you for hero work, constantly being late to dates or even canceling. You would understand, of course, being a pro hero yourself. But you would wish that he would make time for you just like you make time for him

I just… need an angst to fluff fanfic about this 😭

- empty heart

izuku midoriya x reader | angst, hurt/comfort.

a/n: it’s not specified that reader is a pro hero so they’re whatever you want them to be🤷🏽‍♀️ kind of ends in fluff…..

wc: 1.3k

you’ve lost count of the amount of times it has happened. lost count of the amount of times you were left sitting alone in that restaurant, waiting and waiting patiently only for him to never show up. lost count of the amount of times you needed him — needed him to be there for you — to show up, but he never did.

it happened so slowly, that you didn’t even notice it until it smacked you right in the face. or you were in denial, pretending that what was happening right in front of your face wasn’t really there. that maybe if you ignored it, it would eventually go away.

it didn’t.

it started with missed calls, unanswered texts that you didn’t think much of. he was late to a few dates, you shrugged it off and gave him a kiss. he didn’t show up for that one dinner with your parents, apologizing and saying that he totally forgot, but he’ll be there next time — you said it’s okay. and that was it.

you can’t help but think that maybe it was because you always let him off so easily that it ended up like this. maybe the both of you are as much to blame for the demise of your relationship. maybe you should have pushed harder. maybe he should have prioritized better. maybe, maybe, maybe. maybe you could have done all of that and it still would have ended up this way.

maybe it wouldn’t have ended up like this, with you packing up your things in a tiny luggage that will have to do for now. with tears streaming down your face and your heart feeling like it got stomped on and torn into pieces.

you and izuku were so close. but he feels like a stranger now. too many nights of him getting home after not speaking or seeing him the entire day. you ignored it, pretended like you were sleeping as he slipped into the bed beside you, your back turned to him. he doesn’t wrap his arms around you anymore, doesn’t hold you. though you know he always knew that you were awake. maybe he liked to ignore it too. you both always hated confrontation.

there were no more i love you’s, no more i miss you’s. no more love. it was there, but it was empty. you guys don’t talk anymore, don’t laugh anymore. no more nights where you stay up discussing the most random things when you both could be sleeping, no more sad movies and holding izuku in your arms while he cries like a baby because a character died, no more him. no more us, you think.

you were getting drained — getting tired.

and again, you hated confrontation, so that’s why you’re packing your things up now, when you know he won’t be home to see you leaving him. so he can’t see you acting like a coward.

you pack your essentials, throw in some clothes that can last you at least a few days, and pack away your heart with it.

and then you’re heading for the door, furiously wiping at your face to the point it hurts — but the handle is turning and it opens before you can get to it. and in comes the love of your life — the stranger you’re now living with.

your heart squeezes at the sight of him, and you take in what you can. his mess of curly green hair — dark and kind eyes to match, the freckles that are scattered everywhere on his face, the freckles you love to count but never get to the end of, as if they’re endless. you trace the curve of his cheeks with your eyes, imagining his lovable smile that melts your heart, his dimples popping out. his lips, that you loved to steal kisses from, as much as you could get.

izuku breathes out your name as he steps inside, closing the door and doubling back at the sight that greets him. his eyes widen, going to your face — the tears that you’re sure are streaming down, and then trailing below to the bag you’re clutching in your hand.

he stumbles forward, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what to say — what to do. and you stand there, hardening your face to not give away any emotions, though you’re sure your tears gives it all. you’ve always done that, worn your heart on your sleeve but tried to hide it as much as you could.

vulnerability — never an option.

“what…” his throat bobs. “what are you doing?”

you almost want to laugh, if not for the hurt he’s showing. “what does it look like?”

“i- what?” a plethora of emotions flash across his face. he’s shaking his head, dropping his duffel bag on the ground — he’s freshly showered, hair slightly damp on his forehead. he must have showered at his agency.

you rub your thumb back and forth against the rough handle of your bag. “i thought you’re supposed to be on patrol?”

he eyes your hand where it holds onto the luggage. “got off early. kachaan… he’s covering for me.”

“oh…” silence. you stare at each other for what seems like forever, your feet rooted in place.

it’s when you move your hand to wipe at your face that izuku breaks the silence, saying your name. he takes a step forward, faltering when you back away in response. he frowns, “why do you have your bag packed?”

you don’t answer his question. “what are we doing, izuku?”

“what- i… what do you mean?”

you want to scream. you want to break down and cry while he holds you in his scarred arms. “what are we doing!” your voice cracks, but you don’t even feel embarrassed as you feel another wave of fresh tears.

he knows what you mean. his own eyes are glassy, you note. “i don’t know. i don’t know.” his fists clench at his sides.

this time you do laugh. “exactly. you don’t know.” your heart breaks even more. “i think.” you pause, taking in his expression. “i think i have to go.”

“no you don’t.” his hand reaches for you — to hold you, but he must rethink his decision because he stops midair, letting his hand swing back as he gulps. “you don’t…” his voice is a whisper, quiet.

you nod your head, firm. “i do.”

but then he moves forward again, unstopping until he’s right in front of you, and then suddenly you’re engulfed by him, your senses overtaken. he hugs you, hard. squeezes you and that’s when you feel his sharp intake of air, and then his body is shaking as he holds you.

and it’s funny, you think, that this is what it took for him to hug you like this again. hold you like he doesn’t ever want to let go.

“please.” you can feel his heart breaking along with yours as he breathes into the top of your head, as he holds you tighter.

you start sobbing again, gasping for air as you fist his shirt in your hands, burrowing into him.

“we can fix this.” izuku repeats it over and over again, as if he’s trying to convince himself as well. pulling away, he looks you in the eyes — letting you see the emotions swarming around in his. “we can.”

you look at him — really look at him like you haven’t in months. you look at the tears that are now falling down his face too, using the back of your hand to wipe them off and somehow mustering a tiny smile when he closes his eyes and shudders at your touch.

you think about all the times he’s left you hanging, all the times you needed him and he just wasn’t there. but then you think about the times he was there, standing right by you and holding you up when you couldn’t stand anymore.

you think, that if it’s for him, you can try harder. let him have your heart again.

“we can.”

[hazelsmirrorball]

Spiderman’s Biggest Fan |  Jaime Reyes part 4

summary:  Jaime Reyes is the biggest spiderman fan. His girlfriend on the other hand is Spiderman's biggest hater. 

pairings: Jaime Reyes x Spiderman! FemReader 

a/n:  Part 4 baby! Hope you guys are enjoying this little series.  I know I said this was going to be the last part but I’m going to do one last part because 5 is my lucky number. Sorry in advance

warning: English isn’t my main language. Angsty and kinda sad. Not edited

[MASTERLIST]

part one. part two  part three part five

Aunt Marisol was dead.

The last ounce of family she had was dead and she left like a coward. Her mom and dad were gone before she had consciousness. Her uncle Ben died before she could even graduate high school and now Aunt Marisol, the only person she had left was gone. She had left her to root under piles of blocks. The person that raised her and took care of her most of her life was treated like shit. 

Y/n was a murderer. Even though she didn’t throw the bomb after her, she knew that the cause of it was her own fault.  She felt guilty for her aunt's death, if she weren't bitten by that damn radioactive spider she would be with her aunt right now, chatting about God knows what. If she would’ve organized herself and her life better she wouldn’t be dragging other people into her problems. There was no time to regret her actions, because that for sure wasn’t going to bring Marisol back. All she had of her were two things, the fight two hours prior to her death  and her words stuck in the back of her head. 

With great power comes great responsibility.  

Aunt Marisol didn’t recognize the person she had become but in all honesty. She couldn’t recognize the person she had become either. The real her would’ve stayed with Aunt Marisol. She would’ve, scratch that, She should be with The Reyes family, she should be showing her face at Marisol funeral, she should be mourning her aunt's death but there she was, avoiding everything and everyone. She hadn’t heard a thing from The Reyes family, not because they weren’t communicating with her, her phone had been blown up with text messages she decided to ignore, not ready to face anyone, specifically Jaime. 

Y/n in the past three weeks was houseless, her secret was out for Milagro to spill at any second, villains were on the loose making Palmera a big threat to civilians. She was on the verge of dropping out of grad school. She also assumed she was fired from her job and she didn’t have a clue if the Reyes family was okay since she didn’t want to anything, she didn’t want their pity or the mutual sadness, she couldn’t deal with that right now. 

With great power comes great responsibility, yet right now Y/n couldn’t even deal with the responsibility of keeping herself afloat , let alone save  a whole city. She finally accepted that she had lost it.  

It was clear that her priorities weren’t straight, she was aware of that. But all she wanted to do was stay in a corner while the funeral service started. Y/n had no intention of talking to anyone. She didn’t feel like hearing people's pity stories. She was used to it already growing up without parents made her get used to peoples sad eyes and pity glances. It didn’t help, so why even pay attention to them. Half way through the services Y/n managed to take her phone out distracting herself from the cries she could hear all over the room. 

As she scrolled around her eyes locked with a pair of  yellow eyes glowing towards her. Her eyes focused on the report that was glowing from her phone as she felt shivers down her spine remembering what Karen said. She should’ve called for backup when Karen suggested it. He could’ve helped her and maybe there could have been a chance she survived. Seeing him made her feel more guilty than before. A constant reminder that Marisol was dead and it was all her fault. 

Blue Beetle. 

The rising super hero that had shown up out of nowhere to save the day. Y/n never really trusted the Kord legacy and weirdly enough, Blue Beetle was associated with them. Which in her head meant that Blue Beetle wasn’t one to trust. But who could blame her? Ever since he showed up nothing but chaos came to the Palmera citizens. Something that Kord enterprises was known for doing so it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if he was associated with them and their evil origins. 

Her eyes glared at the screen in front of her not noticing how Jaime sat next to her quietly waiting for her to notice. Her thoughts snapback to reality as she felt Jaime rest his hand on her thigh. Her eyes wandered towards his face, noticing the tear filled eyes. Y/n looked at him with a sourlook. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. She couldn’t break right now. She was going to keep Jaime safe. 

Jaime had a family to take care of. He was already dealing with grad school, work and his family. Having her in the mix made things worse, he had recently lost his dad, his house and now Aunt Marisol. Y/n couldn’t risk someone else being added to the dead list. 

“Can we please talk?” Jaime managed to get out as he extended his hand towards her. Y/n softly nodded holding his hand while heading to the exit noticing how the Reyes family eyes followed her. She shocked her head as she looked at the exit avoiding their eyes. 

As Jaime and Y/n headed outside both of them sat on a small bench outside, none of them daring to break the silence surrounding them. Y/n played with her hands as Jaime heard Khaji Da telling about Y/n's off demeanor. 

“How is everything going? Where are you guys staying?” Y/n asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence surrounding them.  

“I guess we are as good as it can get. Jenny actually helped us with a place to stay while we fix the house” Jaime replied softly as Y/n grimace as the name of Jenny Kord  got brought up. 

“Well, I’m glad”She replied as she played with her lips softly not knowing what to say. 

“You know, I know this is a lot for you but I really want to help you, Y/n. But I can’t help you if you continue to push me away. I know this is all of a sudden but you can’t keep pushing me away. I was really worried about you. I thought you died too!” Jaime exclaimed as his voice broke.

"I just..." before Y/n could even continue talking Jaime stopped her words.

"I know this may sound dumb but I think you need to hear this right now. I know for a fact Spiderman will find those people that got aunt Marisol and he will do the right thing."

"Jaime, for fuck's sakes! The only thing you talk about is that damn Spiderman. Fuck him all he does is fuck peoples lives off. If he were actually good, if any hero was actually good, there wouldn't be any crime, but Palmera is getting fucked by the second and your little Spiderman or that damn beetle haven't done a thing. Open your eyes Jaime. The only moment where heroes have actually done anything is in the damn comics your read, beside from that they are not to be trust"

Jaime stared at her agape not knowing what to say. He never intended for this conversation to take the route it was currently in. He wanted to tell Y/n to stay with them. He wanted to help her, not fight with her outside of a funeral home.

Y/n closed her eyes in pain knowing what she had to do. As much as it was going to hurt the both of them she knew it had to be done now, for their safety and relationship. Y/n stayed quiet for a few minutes much to Jaimes dismay. 

“I think it’s best if we broke up” Y/n replied nonchalantly as she looked him dead in the eyes. She watched as Jaimes face dropped and more tears threatened to spill as she stayed with a neutral look on her face making Jaime even more hurt. 

“What?” Jaime's voice broke as his eyes widened, not believing what was going on.  Y/n took a deep breath and turned to the side not wanting to see his broken face, knowing that she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I’m glad that you came here to show support and everything. I’m grateful for everything we have done as a couple but  right I think it’s best for us to take a break Jaime. There’s a lot of things going on and I need time” 

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I just told you about opening up to me and not pushing me away. That’s what you are doing right now. I can’t help you if you are constantly pushing me away. I’m all that you have left. What the hell happened to forever”  Jaime exclaimed  angrily, getting up. Y/n focused her eyesight towards the sidewalk in front of her not wanting to face Jaime. 

“I’m not asking for your help Jaime. I’m telling now that maybe us, this, wasn’t meant to be forever. That’s something you need to get through your head. Now, as I said, thank you for showing up. I’m sure that Aunt Marisol appreciates it, but I need to go back inside to talk to people. Goodnight Jaime” Y/n replied calmly, giving her back towards Jaime as tears fell from her cheeks hearing the cries escaping Jaime’s lips. 

With great power comes great responsibility.  

Jaime was right. Spiderman will find those assholes that killed aunt Marisol and she was going to do the right thing. Even if it took to kill them in the process.

That was Y/n's new purpose in life.

[MASTERLIST]

part five.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Joel and Ellie were your little family. Until life made them believe you abandoned them. Now, back in Jackson, seems like they’ll never forgive you. But by Halloween, you’re clean from them. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬_ Halloween themed, post-season 1 (Jackson era), asshole!Joel, mean!Ellie, sweetie pie!reader, lovers to enemies, angst, our baby reader is basically bullied by Ellie (luv her sorry), since I’m anemic, reader is anemic too (like in my series lol), mentions of poor health in general. 𝐀/𝐍_ in honor of 1989 TV coming, part 1 is clean, if this doesn’t flop, out of the woods is part two.

My Pedrito playlist || index (+ fics here) || bookstagram acc

The doors of Jackson rarely opened, besides when patrol happened. And when they did for another reason, two things usually happened: gossiping and great news.

Well, not always. But for most of the time, that’s how it worked. For Joel, it didn’t matter a lot. Ever since he came back to Jackson with Ellie, he had changed. Well, again, not a lot. He remained serious, reserved, and a man of few words. Except with Ellie, he hadn’t accepted it out loud, but he was some paternal figure to the kid.

And the maternal figure was long gone; You.

A young sweet woman who appeared in Kansas looking for medicines. Who made Ellie happier and safer until she gained Joel’s trust.

And who made him almost fall in love.

Almost, because you decided to abandon Ellie and ignore what Joel pleaded you to do; take Ellie to the Fireflies along Tommy the first time you three came to Jackson.

That night, Ellie cried and yelled at him, but she was beyond angry with you. She called you a liar, weak, selfish, and other hurtful things. Then Joel also let his rage out on you. He said a lot of things, but saying you weren’t brave, and that he should’ve never trusted you…that kept reminiscing in his head occasionally. Maybe he could’ve handled everything better, but that didn’t change anything.

The next morning, when you came to the stable to say goodbye, you left a mess of sobs and tears.

Two words finally shattered you; shameless coward.

And the two ignored something for months till the present; They never gave you the chance to explain what was happening.

When they came back, you were gone. Joel didn’t ask, and neither did Ellie.

They both questioned it, especially the girl.

Joel rarely thought about you. But when he did, he spent hours at it.

Questioning would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

He missed you, but he wasn’t brave enough to admit it. Instant karma, he was a coward who couldn’t admit what he did in that Fireflies hospital, and he couldn’t accept how wrong he acted with you.

He didn’t feel that karma yet.

Until the doors of Jackson opened. And among some group of people, you came in.

Tommy knew everything. He even tried speaking with his older brother that snowy morning. But Joel didn’t want to hear your excuses from the mouth of Tommy.

With a simple glance from him, Joel was left alone as he saw his younger brother walk towards the group of people who had arrived.

Some of the crowd came to greet the new visitors, Joel saw Maria helping you get down off the horse. And he finally was able to see you.

Time hadn’t passed across your face. You remained with a sweet and gentle smile. The very short hair you had now was a shock. Joel had been used to your long braid from every hard day you spent together. He remembered a night where you were cold and he offered to join him in his sleeping bag. You apologized for your braid getting in his way, but he said it was okay.

When did everything go wrong? 10 months and seeing you again made him feel strange.

There wasn’t time to think about Joel or Ellie when you arrived.

To you, their present parade was unknown.

So unknown, that you were in the same town as them once again.

“You didn’t answer our radio signals for months. We were so worried!” It’s the first thing Maria says. You can only smile and shrug.

“I’m really sorry. Jeremy and Lia lost connection in a little fight with infected, and they couldn’t risk anything” A lot had happened. And you felt so empowered from having the guts to leave for so long.

“Oh. God knows everything that happened out there, right?”

“We have a lot to talk about. Where’s Tommy?” You ask smiling. Then you make some minutes to appreciate how much the town had changed over seasons. The trees had turned orange, red and brown. The smell in the main entrance was like cinnamon and caramel apples. And there were a lot of fall decorations. When you turn back, Tommy Miller is there to greet you.

“Right here!” The man appears and you have to greet him with a hug.

“You look great, kid. So, did it work?” There’s a big wave of happiness that invades as soon as he asks.

“Yes, I’m free from it” the marriage sighs relieved.

“Guess it was worth it,” Maria says patting your shoulder.

“Take a rest now. We’ll talk about everything in dinner” you agree with Tommy.

You want to ask if he has heard something from Joel. If he succeeded with Ellie to go with the Fireflies. But you don’t. You’re not ready to hear if he found something. Whether it was a home, happiness, or a lover.

Cause although neither of you ever talked about it. You never confessed your feelings for him. He never showed a sign that he might have loved you back. So no, you were no fool to ask that question to Tommy. Same thing for Ellie. You never revealed you loved her like a sister or even a daughter. You never admitted that for many months. You had acted along with Joel and the girl like a little family.

No, it wasn’t acting. They had genuinely been your family.

But that era was over.

You made your choice. And you still believed you were right. There was only one mistake you made.

Revealing the news to them first and then never being able to share the cause of it. Breaking that little girl’s heart and letting down Joel. It still haunts you.

But the time to go over that was approaching.

…

It wasn’t snowing time yet. But the temperatures were about to drop significantly. Enough for a jacket and sweaters.

There was a pair of heel boots you left in that little house Maria and Tommy offered you before leaving the town.

So, it was time to show off that pair of boots.

The way to the dinner hall was short. Some people greet you and ask how you’re doing now. It feels like rebirthing. Being able to have a second chance in life. But the memory of your little family gone and broken because of you makes you stop that little celebration of life early.

Someone must be doing gravy. Because it smells like Thanksgiving, in the middle of October. Some people are in a little line to get warm punch with cinnamon and fruits. Your mouth waters and a smile appears on your face.

You want to eat and laugh. You are eager to talk to Tommy and Maria.

The first couple with mercy who took the time to listen to you and help you.

An old woman who had been in the kitchen since you arrived for the first time smiles at you and asks you to grab a tray of food.

When you turn to the right to have some food, you are literary punched in the face.

At least that’s how it felt. Because that same night you had to encounter face to face with the two ghosts of your past; Joel and Ellie.

With you being static, they notice you finally.

Ellie shows clear shock, but soon she makes the sign of shock disappear from her face. Deep down, she wanted to hug you, she wanted to tell you everything that happened. But she refuses.

Joel wasn’t ready to see you so close that soon. But he remains stoic as usual.

“Ellie…” you attempt to vocally recognize her.

She firmly holds her tray, empty, and somehow, she still looks angered at you. Which makes you nervous.

And you don’t dare to look at Joel in the eyes, so you avoid it.

“You’re back…” she spits out. And you have some hope that she will be willing to listen to you.

“Yes. I had to go because-” she rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t say I cared, or I wanted to listen” That hurt a little. Ellie could be very tough, and you really had hoped she would try to talk.

“Oh…I-” but she stops you again.

“What? You thought we would be friends again? Let me remind you… YOU abandoned me and Joel!” The lump in your throat gets tighter, but you swallow it firmly.

“Please, I’ve never explained it” you suggest, but Ellie seems too proud and stubborn as usual.

“Oh, save it. We’ve been through enough shit to listen to you too” If Joel wanted, he would’ve scold her, but he didn’t. Which hurt you even more.

The girl leaves her used tray in the dirty dishes and leaves.

You want to drop the tray when you finally eye Joel.

He looks better. Same grey hairs in the same spots. You were so glad to see him healthy, but this wasn’t what you imagined it would be the first re-encounter.

“Joel-” you try to reason with him. He wants to savor the way you gently call him. It makes him remember all the good memories he made with you. All the nights you made him smile, when you annoyed him with Ellie, and the nights were he was able to hold you a little.

But that’s over. You are not a priority anymore. Just Ellie.

“She’s right, though” and just like that, he also left. Without even glancing at you, barely brushing your shoulder with his. It was cold… and it hurt like hell.

The old lady at the counter smiles apologetically at you, and you smile back. She sees some tears rolling down your cheeks but doesn’t say anything.

…

A week passes between awkward exchanges. You are babysitting Tommy and Maria’s baby when Joel arrives to visit his brother. So, you had to leave early.

You started working in the garden, helping to harvest enough for the cold season. So, when kids would join once a week to help, Ellie would ignore you.

And when it was movie night, you were having fun until Ellie arrived with her new friends. Or when you were having a drink in the saloon and Joel had to be there. You catch him staring once in a while and it freaks you out.

You debate whether to write an apology letter or do something for them. Because you feel like you can’t be happy at all when things haven’t gone through makeup with them.

But it all comes down one afternoon.

The council of the town suggested having a Halloween celebration. With a costume party and pumpkin contest. So you needed extra help with the harvest.

Maria had set up some people, including Joel and Ellie. It was a low key moment to have some opportunity to get you three together.

You were digging your hands in the dirt to take out carrots and green onions. There’s a little hat covering your head, and you have to use some tools to work.

Completely ignoring but highly aware of Joel and Tommy talking afar, continuously turning to look at you and then going back to talk.

To be honest, that was the first day when you started getting tired of their mean attitudes toward you. Their mean glances, cold comments and sarcastic hints.

Some people left their baskets beside you so you could later wash the vegetables and take them to the kitchen.

And it was Ellie’s turn.

“Here’s the basket” she coldly says.

“Thanks, leave it here. And be careful, please” She noticed your cold tone attack back, and it surprised her. But also bothers her and makes her grow more stubborn.

“Whatever you say” Maybe Ellie didn’t mean to drop the basket so harshly. But she does, dropping all the vegetables and others from different baskets too.

“ELLIE! I told you to be careful!” A lot of people turn to look at you and the girl.

“I said I was sorry, stop fucking yelling.”

Joel appears beside her. Ready to fuck everything up even more.

“Hey! Don’t yell at her” When Joel raises his voice at you, you freeze.

“She’s a kid. You’re an adult” You know it’s enough when he continued.

“ENOUGH!” Finally, everyone’s attention is on you three again.

“Calm down, y/n” Tommy tries to calm you, but you won’t rest in peace till you yell back at them.

“NO. I’M SICK OF THESE TWO!” Ellie immediately regretted being so stubborn, she remembered you could also be as mean as her.

“How many times do I have to say it? I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t want to abandon you two.”

“And no. I’m not a selfish coward. Because I was diagnosed with anemia, and I was fucking dying. So, choosing to stay to fight for my life wasn’t being coward.” Neither of them expected it.

“I’m done with this psychological punishment or whatever.” You finally take the gardening gloves out, looking so enraged.

“…y/n” Joel calls you, knowing that he can’t startle you more.

“You don’t want me to yell at your bratty kid? Do it your fucking self, Joel” he’s taken aback by the way you push the gloves against his chest, passing past him and sprinting out.

The man sighs, holding the gloves and looking at Tommy, who only shrugs. Knowing that it would end up happening either way.

…

Joel learns a lot of things that night.

You started feeling sick a little before arriving in Jackson. You never tell him or Ellie because you three had already other problems. And by the time you met Maria and spent an afternoon with her, you had fainted in the shower.

The doctor said you were likely suffering from anemia. With the lack of food, strong menstruation, and low blood pressure, you had been carrying with it for months, but as usual, there was a breakpoint.

The doctor suggested you go to another town where you could get iron injections, so you agreed. But that meant having to separate from Ellie and Joel.

Tommy showed him some pictures the doctor took of you to show as references for the other doctors.

You had giant bruises on the back of your legs, with yellow, green, and purple shades.

It cracked Joel. Hearing Tommy say how you cried to him and Maria how you never meant to hurt Ellie or Joel. That you loved them two as your family, finally made Joel’s eyes get crystallized.

You left around early spring, some weeks before he came back with Ellie. And for a long period, as you left with other people of Jackson, nobody had news. Until you appeared looking better.

“I fell in love with her, brother” Joel admitted. Even when forever, he said you were younger, that things would never work out.

“Why didn’t you let her explain?” Joel sighed, drinking a deeper shot of alcohol.

“I was so mad, that she was leaving Ellie behind. I just- Why she didn’t also ever say a thing about being sick? I would have given everything for her.” Tommy smiled sadly.

“That’s why. She didn’t want to worry you. I-… I think she also loved you, Joel” The man closed his eyes and imagined what could’ve been. Maybe you two would be okay if things had happened differently.

“Tell Ellie. Then go with y/n and let everything out. This is your chance, brother. Be happy, love and rest now” Joel nodded slowly.

He had one chance…

…

Jackson looked beautiful decorated with pumpinks and dry leaves everywhere.

The streets are literally empty because everyone must have already been at the party. There’s a gorgeous sunset painting the town, and you can’t wait to walk across the street with sunset.

You know you’re late. As much as you can, you hurry to get out of the house. Maria and your other friends got you a Dorothy costume from The Wizard of Oz. You had another pair of red boots, and everything ended up fitting perfectly. You looked pretty, with your everyday chain in your neck, red lips, and half-braid hairstyle.

At the end of the stairs to your door, Joel and Ellie are there.

“Oh no.” you sigh. Completely calmed, opposite of your outburst in prior weeks.

“Please, just leave me alone now. I’m over this. I won’t take any of you bitching around me” you spit locking the door from outside.

“Look, we didn’t know-“ Ellie starts, but now you interrupt her.

“No, neither of you knew anything. I can tell you both struggled after I stayed here. But I don’t wanna know either, I realized I’m grateful now, even if that meant losing you two” The way you said it, and how you locked your eyes with Joel’s, he knew what you meant.

“Both of you can rest now knowing I’m at peace with my decision. I know what I did, and I’m proud of myself. Both of you were wrong, I’m not weak, I never was” They can choose any words quickly before you leave.

This is not the last shot Joel will give to have you back. He promises it as he watches you walking peacefully across the street.

You don’t look back. You feel some relief, this is a new era. After months drowning in guilt, wondering if you really were that much of an evil woman to abandon them. But now, you know you’re clean from them.

_____________________________

Idk part two or what?

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 3 - “Pillow Talk”

Summary: Katsuki is “forced” to tell his parents about his girlfriend. Later during the night, he shares his true feelings with Y/N.

Warnings: Swear words, that’s it!

Season 1 💥 Season 2 Chapter 1 💥 Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Mitsuki’s mug falls on the floor as she takes in the view in front of her.

It’s not like she wasn’t sure these two will end up together eventually and there was also that phone call with Katsuki which made his son’s intentions with this girl obvious, she just didn’t think her boy will actually do it so soon. Plus, they acted more like two bickering siblings, teasing each other through the whole evening. Even though they were sharing a blanket they didn’t move towards each other at all. Mitsuki was sure they have a long way to go before the time feels like right for them confess to each other.

So… this… in front of her… was a massive surprise. Mitsuki stopped breathing when his son looked at Y/N with that confused and longing look. She froze completely when Y/N looked back at him. She has no idea how much time has passed since the impromptu staring contest but when she blinked herself back to life the two were kissing on her sofa, in each other’s arms while the movie rolled on the TV, completely ignored by the whole family.

Mitsuki didn’t mean to drop her mug and ruin the moment; she wanted to wait it out and then start yelling profanities to his ungrateful son of a bitch son who forgot to tell her about this massive change in his life.

“I’ll clean that up, honey.” Masaru jumps up from the sofa, leaving the soon-to-be battleground, the coward.

“Katsuki fucking Bakugou.” Mitsuki sneers. “Didn’t you forget to tell me something?!”

“Oh shut up, old hag.” Katsuki rolls his eyes while Y/N tries her best to hide under the blanket. “Stop staring and watch your fucking cheesy movie.”

“Oh, you mean the cheesy movie that made you do cheesy fucking shit on my couch that ended up in a make out session right in front of your parents?!” Mitsuki says, not believing his son’s shenanigans.

“Jesus, I kissed my girlfriend, put my head on a fucking spike!” Katsuki retorts, offended. She’s gonna kill this boy.

“Katsuki, that’s not the problem here.” Y/N mumbles under the blanket.

“Then what is the fucking problem?!” Katsuki yells, utterly confused. Mitsuki still can’t believe his son listens to someone.

“You didn’t tell her we are a couple! I knew this is a terrible way to tell them. Your father already ran away.” She sighs.

“Why didn’t you say so?!”

“Like you ever listen to anyone you fucking madman!” Y/N appears under the covers now; apparently she’s had enough time to get over her embarrassment.

“That’s true.” Katsuki deadpans and looks between the two ladies with a confused face. “Now what.”

“Oh my god, you are insufferable.” Y/N sighs again. “Mrs. Bakugou, I am dating your son.”

“We ain’t dating.” Katsuki retorts and you look at him with a confused look on your face. “We are in a serious relationship so get used to her cuz she’s ain’t going anywhere. Don’t bug her with your wedding dress designs though, she might freak out.”

“Are you not freaking out?” Y/N asks, utterly confused now.

“Why would I? It doesn’t matter if it’s now or in a few years, it will eventually happen, we might as well get over with it.” Katsuki deadpans. Mitsuki can’t help but snort at that.

“Really romantic Katsuki, can’t wait.” Y/N rolls her eyes but there is a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Okay, you menace, I’ll make it so fucking romantic you will cry your fucking eyes out. You just wait.” Katsuki clearly took it as a challenge which is funny and sad at the same time but to be honest, you knew what you’re getting into when you said yes to be the madman’s girlfriend; you might not have cheesy stories to tell your kids but funny ones?! You’ll have a shit ton of those, that’s for sure.

“That’s it.” Mitsuki throws her arms in the air. “I’m bringing out my wedding dress ideas!”

“MOM!” Katsuki yells after his mother but it’s a lost cause; the book is in her hands already.

~•💥•~

As the sun goes down and the world gets dark, another uncomfortable conversation is about to happen.

The conversation about…

“So, Y/N is sleeping with you, right? I ain’t gonna wash the sheets for no reason, work smarter not harder and shit.” Mama Bakugou looks at you two. Well, this is awkward.

It’s not like there is any shame in not sleeping together yet, one way or another, you haven’t been together for that long, but it’s still such a sensitive topic and you are quite sure your boyfriend does not want to have that conversation with his mother.

“Whatever he wants, I’m fine with both.” You mumble quietly. Katsuki rolls his eyes and tries to play it cool.

“Get ready to get your ass kicked, Menace.” He smirks. What the fuck does he mean by that?! He was fine the last time you shared a bed! And before… oh wow, you actually forgot you spent a few nights together already due to a a mission that went terribly wrong. The mission ended up with you two making out on Katsuki’s office desk though. Your cheeks heat up as you remember his soft touch in the middle of the night, on the day he got quirked by the villain, Anguish; and the time he pulled you close and inhaled your scent to calm himself after a nightmare, a day prior the incident.

“Uhm… wait until you wake up on the floor, Blasty boy.” You try to smirk back, but you probably only make yourself look like a foolish teen trying to flirt with the coolest boy in the class.

Mitsuki jumps into your conversation.

“I’ll ignore you two bantering like you’ve never slept in the same bed before.” Mitsuki says, her hands up in the air in surrender and moves towards her room to retreat for the night.

“Oi, we’ve slept together before.” Katsuki retorts, offended, yelling after his mother with a red face. “I ain’t scared to share a bed with my woman! Put in your earplugs, just in case.” Katsuki retorts and you roll your eyes; that’s a fucking bluff but what can you do with his fragile masculinity? It’s a part of him, let’s be honest.

“TMI, son. Good night.” She looks at her son one last time with one brow raised mockingly.

“Fuck off, hag.” Katsuki spits and makes his way towards the bathroom. “Let’s wash up.” He stomps away aggressively, pulling you with him for some weird ass reason. You stop in the middle of your tracks; Katsuki needs to take the chill-pill. Right now.

“Katsuki, calm down. First of all, you have no clothes to change into. Second of all, I’m quite sure you don’t want us to wash up together, but correct me if I’m wrong.” You grin while Katsuki rolls his eyes aggressively.

“You are still a fucking menace.” Katsuki grumbles as he changes his route to go back to his room instead.

“And you still like me.” You tease but his answer makes your insides churn in an uncomfortable way.

“I don’t like you.” Katsuki announces, his voice strong and unwavering; they also sting like a bitch. You’re rendered speechless. “Yeah, think about that.”

You will… definitely… think about that.

~•💥•~

“So… why did you act like a thirty year old virgin in front of your own mother, Katsuki?” You ask while Katsuki shuffles as far away from you as possible on the bed. It can’t get more awkward than this; your mind is still clouded by his cruel words and Katsuki… is being Katsuki. Rude and distant. You can’t believe this man was kissing your scars just a few hours ago, kneeling in front of you like you are the most valuable treasure the world has ever seen.

Well, family does that to people sometimes, you guess. You can love and appreciate your family but sometimes, it’s just hard be yourself around them. You can only hope his facade will slowly crumble as Katsuki takes a few deep breaths and settles in the bed.

“I don’t fucking know.” Katsuki grumbles. “It was so fucking awkward to talk about this with her. She always makes me feel so fucking small. She always does that and I hate it.” He shuffles to the side of the bed so you can’t see his face. This might not be the comfortable conversation you’ve been looking for, but seeing Katsuki’s vulnerable side is so rare you feel genuine gratitude towards the whole situation.

“She loves you. So much.” You mumble into your pillow, moving your body to the other side to face his bare back. It’s full of scars, probably rough to the touch, but you would do anything to be able touch all of them, slide your fingers over the broken tissue, one scar after another until you trace every single one on his body; you want to remember them all, have them carved into your heart so you can see them even when your eyes are closed and your mind is fuzzy. “She worked months on those wedding dresses, Katsuki. Months. One of them had small explosions embroidered onto the fabric which only you could see; it looked pure white from the distance. She took me into the family without a single fucking question, because she trusts you. Some people suck at showing affection and love, and it definitely runs in the family, but Katsuki, you are so fucking loved here.” You sigh, your hand reaching towards his back unconsciously. You take your hand back in the middle of the movement, terrified of scaring him away; vulnerable Katsuki must be handled with care and caution like a wounded wild animal; one single mistake and the softness is replaced by sharp teeth and aggressive growls.

“I can’t do it. I don’t know how. I can’t see it either. I can’t see someone loving me, there’s nothing here to love. I’m a fucking mess. I don’t know what I’m doing and I fucking hate this feeling.” The end of sentence is muffled by his pillow but you can hear it loud and clear. This whole situation reminds you of the day he got quirked and you hate it. Really, really hate it.

“Katsuki, can I touch you?” You ask hesitantly. Katsuki nods but doesn’t move towards you so you put your hands on his back and trace the scars, just how you wanted in the first place.

“There is so much to love, Kats.” You smile and Katsuki’s body tenses under your touch. “For instance, today you made me stand up for myself and ask for the food I like. You made me feel like I can have what I want. You reassured me you want me in your life forever. You looked at me like I’m the best thing in the world, while we watched that stupid movie with your mom. You kissed my scars like they are something to cherish and not something to hide. You gave me your favorite old T-shirt to sleep in.” You smile fondly.

“How do you know it’s my favorite T-shirt?” Katsuki asks, his voice deep and tired.

“Even though it’s freshly washed it still smells like burnt sugar.” You admit and take a deep breath to inhale the sweet scent. Katsuki doesn’t move towards you, he’s still facing the wall instead, but he takes a deep breath and sighs, some of the tension leaving his body with his exhale.

“When I said I don’t like you… I really don’t think I do. I don’t think it’s the right word. It doesn’t feel right.” Katsuki mumbles. Your hand stops on his back and your breath hitches. You have no idea where is he going with this; is it a good or a bad thing? Fuck, you are really tense.

“Describe it.” You whisper, snuggling closer to his back. He tenses for a second, but it doesn’t last long.

“I don’t like people in general. They annoy me. I always hated them, I hated how it was necessary to be surrounded by them to stay on the top; when I was a child, I kept a few idiots around just to have some people by my side… Just to bully the shit out of Deku and share the blame. I hated them. I thought I hated Deku even more, but… I really don’t. He annoys the shit out of me but he’s been the one constant thing in my life, the one person who stayed by my side even when I fucked everything up. When I was attacked by the sludge monster, those fuckers just left me there to die. But Izuku… he tried to save me even though he was very weak back then. Even though I told him to go and die, he decided to die for ME. And even then, I still resented him, the whole idea of him being my closest friend. I fought against it and made his whole life miserable, yet he stayed. I might have apologized to him, but I’ve never said thank you. I can’t do it.” Katsuki sighs, deep in thought. “Then Eijirou came along… that fucker was a true menace; I yelled at him so much yet he only grinned and looked at me like it’s a fucking praise. I hated him so much for being a nuisance, I thought he’s nothing but another useless idiot who’ll run away from me with the first chance he’s got. Then he saved my life. It was so fucking dangerous, Y/N, but he did it anyway. Then you…. Fuck.” Katsuki’s voice wavers. “You just barged into my fucking life, yelling and clawing at me at every available moment, then turned my whole fucking life upside down and I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. All these fucking feelings are choking me. I don’t know what to do with them. I thought I have everything I wanted except the number one title, but then I started to feel like something’s missing and hated you for it. I still do. You made me want all the things I thought I’ll never have. You opened up these fucking doors and I don’t know what to do with them. I know I should be thankful, but I’m not there yet. But one day, I’ll tell you how fucking thankful I am that you pulled me out of my misery. It’s like the world was black and white and you painted it with fucking colors, but they hurt my eyes so much, even though it’s so pleasant to see them. I don’t like you, Y/N. The word is too shallow. It means fucking nothing and you are way more than that. I feel like if this would be just a dream and I’d wake up from it, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. It’s like a part of you lives inside me and I’m a fucking zero without you in my life. I can’t see myself without you Y/N, and it really fucking terrifies me. You are my weakness. You are the bane of my fucking existence. You are something I’ve never wanted but I can’t live without. You are really important to me. A part of me. That’s what I feel. I hate it.”

You don’t know what to say. Your face is wet with tears, ugly sobs bubbling up as you repeat his words in your head, slowly understanding the implications of them.

You want to pour all your feelings into him, kiss him until he understands how much you love this side of him and how thankful you are for his existence. You want to go to bed with him every day, exchanging vulnerable secrets with each other under the blanket of the night, safe and content in each other’s arms.

“Are you crying?” Katsuki finally decides to show his face, turning around so you can see he him rolling his eyes. If it wouldn’t be so dark you would see how red-rimmed they are. “You are such a sap.”

“Oh, shut up, Kats.” You murmur and push yourself closer, your arm slowly snaking around his ridiculously thin middle. When Katsuki doesn’t pull away, you rest your head on his chest, snuggling impossible close until you are nothing but a mess of limbs. None of you say a anything after that, all the unsaid words swirling around you in the shape of tiny blades, they carve into your heart, quick and painful, but you try your best to resist.

I’m in love with you.

It’s not the right time to say it, so you bare with the pain in your chest and close your eyes; you take a deep breath, your mind already hazy from the scent of burnt sugar.

It’s a good kind of pain, because you know that one day, you’ll be able to speak freely about all of this and he’ll say it back.

And when that day comes, you’ll be the happiest person in the entire world.

Another day, another week, another month, another year… it doesn’t matter. You are willing to wait for eternity if it’s needed.

“Good night, love.” You mumble half asleep, not even aware of the words stumbling out of your mouth.

“Yeah. That’s the word.” Katsuki mumbles back, but you are way too sleepy to understand it.

The sleeps take you quickly in the safety of Katsuki’s arms and you don’t remember the last time you’ve slept so soundly through the night. One day, you need to thank Katsuki for that.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- This chapter was so cute 😭😭😭😭 (I’m also fangirling because I wrote this a few weeks ago so I kinda forgot how cute it is 😂) I love how Katsuki finally confessed in his own weird way.

- The way he described his feelings is actually a reference for the wedding chapter in first season where Y/N asked him how would he describe his dream partner. He literally said the same thing back then 😭

- Also, if you haven’t read the first season: Katsuki tends to talk a lot in bed and it’s easier for him to speak freely about his feelings before or after sleep so most of the emotional conversations will probably be in bed in the later chapters as well. The bed and the darkness is Katsuki’s safe place after all.

- The next chapter will be 18+, so if you are underage/not comfortable with that kind of stuff just ignore next week’s chapter; there will be a brief summary in the chapter after for those who decide to skip it! I’m trying my best not to make this season too explicit but Katsuki has his mind of his own and he just does things? (I don’t know how normal people write, but for me, my characters have their own mind. I had so many plans in the past that I had to scrap because I felt like that’s not what the character would do in certain situations. I’m a weirdo, I know.) When these two get their shit together there will be less of this kind of content, so don’t worry!

~•💥•~

Taglist: @sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish

[throneofsapphics]

Hi I love you I hope you’re okay

Will you please write how reader is struggling with an ED and manorian or rowaelin figure it out and help her?

Thank you and mwah

keeping the demons away 

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Rowan and Aelin figure out how to help you. 

Warnings: eating disorder, rowan having no tact, toxic parent, not proofread  

A/N: thank you for the request! I hope you’re doing okay <3

It wasn’t exactly that she didn't want to eat. In fact, she wished that she could - that she could hit that level of normalcy and ease everyone else seemed. But, everytime she went to pick up her fork, her mothers voice would echo in her mind; you can’t have that, that’s not good for you, if you eat that you’ll die young, and the image of her snatching the fork and plate away from her- dumping half of it in the trash, played in her mind. 

She would pick up a fork, forcing the food to her mouth and hiding her grimace. A few bites later and you’d be done. It came and went in waves, sometimes you’d be able to eat regularly for a few months before it would “come back” as she called it. Each time she thought you’d finally beat it - that you’d finally conquered the demon resting on her shoulder - it showed her that it was more resilient than you’d hoped.  

But - she was so good at hiding it after all of these years. Good enough nobody had noticed. Or she thought. 

“You haven’t been finishing your food. Recently.” Rowan commented one night.

“Not hungry.” she answered automatically - the excuse she gave when anyone commented on it, and normally worked. But, Rowan woke up that day ready for a fight. 

“You haven’t been hungry for a month?” Aelin shot him a glare, but he ignored her. 

“I eat.” She countered through gritted teeth. 

“Less than half of your food.” 

“Rowan.” Aelin warned. 

“I’m fine.” She aggressively stabbed a potato, raising it to her mouth with an indignant look on her face. 

“Now eat the rest of it.” 

Her knuckles went white around the fork, pink starting to spread across her cheeks as she felt the tips of her ears burn. Then, Rowan and Aelin were caught in a staring contest, communicating in that strange way of theirs. She took the chance to shove her chair back, rising to flee the room like a coward. Without looking at her, Rowan’s hand closed around her bicep, tugging her back down to her seat. 

“Did you think we’re stupid enough not to notice?” He finally turned to her. Aelin winced. 

“I’ve never said you’re stupid.” She commented dryly, trying to force some amusement into her voice. This conversation is the last one she wants to be having today. Or any day. In fact, it’s the thing of her nightmares. 

“Every couple of months, you switch back and forth. You’ll eat normally, and then barely touch your food.” 

“That’s none of your business.” She finally snapped at him, shaking off his grip. 

“If something’s wrong with you, I’d say it is.” 

“Nothing is wrong with me,” her voice rose. 

“He didn’t mean it that way,” Aelin said quickly. 

“Then what way did he mean it?” She ignored Rowan completely, speaking to Aelin instead. 

“We want to help,” she said gently, “we care about you.” 

“I’ve been trying to fix this for years. What makes you think you could?” She could tell that, but she was past the point of anger, past the point of reason and talking quietly or nicely. This thing that happens to her pisses her off beyond reason, and coupled with Rowan’s complete lack of tack or subtlety, it sends her over the edge. 

“So you admit there is something wrong.” 

“Rowan. Shut. Up.” Aelin said through gritted teeth. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he did. “Just, tell us why. Please.” 

She’d never been able to deny her anything, especially if she said ‘please,’ so the whole story came tumbling out. The things her mother used to say and do, how it’s like a small demon on her shoulder, how the memories replay her mind and as much as she try she can’t get them out of her head.” 

“Your mother’s an idiot.” 

“Excuse me?”

He sighed, and pointed to some of the food on her plate. “That won’t make you die young. It’s fine to eat any of this, your body needs it.” 

“I know that. It’s not that simple.” Aelin pursed her lips, looking at Rowan. To him, it probably seemed that simple. Hungry? Eat. Like everything could be fixed with a few words. “It’s been like this for years, it won’t change overnight.” 

“Then we’ll help you.” Aelin decided. She looked at her, wanting to shrug off her help and insist she could do it on her own, but once Aelin set her mind to something there was no stopping her so she resigned herself to two fussy fae watching over she for gods-know how long. 

-

“I’m hungry.” Aelin announced, midway between lunch and dinner, and reached out a hand to you. “Come eat with me.” A small smile curved on her face. She carefully marked her place in her novel before taking her hand, letting her drag her to one of the smaller hearth rooms. Cozy, warm, and non-imposing. Not a dining or sitting room, not a designated place for eating, just somewhere … comfortable, was the best way she could describe it. She disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a tray loaded with all of the snacks either she or Rowan had noticed her eating. 

The thoughtfulness of it brought a smile to her face. 

Then, she brought out the competitive side of her - saying she wouldn’t be able to catch a grape or a piece of chinese, or other things in her mouth. Before she knew it, she was full - and laughing, picking up the poor pieces of grapes that didn’t quite make it to her mouth. 

“We could leave them for the cats.” Aelin murmured, pointing to one of them. 

“Do cats even like cheese?” 

“Bait for the mice.” She shrugged. 

“There’s no mice in the castle.” She protested. Not that you’d seen, and she hoped there weren’t any.  There were good and bad weeks, but the bad ones became less frequent - and they seemed to notice it before you, sometimes. Like they’d picked up on the signs of it. She knew when they had, because they’d get extra fussy - Rowan staring at her until she finished her plate, or Aelin dragging her into Orynth to try some new food from one of the vendors. But, she didn’t complain. Their tactics kept that little demon at bay, and her mothers voice out of her head.

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie was…struggling to say the least. And by the end of the first week of sticking around this city, he was completely out of ways to rationalize what the fuck he was still doing here. 

Indianapolis was just supposed to be a pitstop after visiting Wayne. Then, he was supposed to see Chrissy in a few days, spend some time in San Francisco before jet setting around the world for his year-long vacation. But instead here he was, avoiding Chrissy’s calls, opting instead to take the coward’s route of sending cryptic texts and reassurances that he was fine. Despite the fact that he’d canceled his flight a few days ago. 

And for what? Some hot guy he had only seen twice? That he couldn’t even get past first base with?

And while technically it was the best date of his life, that didn’t exactly warrant whatever the fuck he was doing here. And that wasn’t even mentioning all of the fucking lies. 

It was safe to say that he was floundering over here. Which was so fucking stupid. He was Eddie fucking Munson for God’s sake, not some lovesick highschooler. And he was sure that there were many easier flings to be had in his immediate future if he just left. This was when it was time to abort the mission right? He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and that was that. 

So why was that so hard to accept? Why was he so fucking obsessed with this dude? Eddie had no fucking clue. Well…maybe he had some clue. Because Steve was funny. And he was smart, adventurous, and interesting enough for Eddie to want to know everything about him. Not to mention painfully attractive. And then add in being a complete sweetheart on top of everything else. 

All Eddie knew was that he wanted to see him again. And leaving now felt…wrong. Because Steve liked him. He obviously liked him, or at least Eddie really hoped he liked him. He at least liked him enough to give him his number. And answer his calls.

They had been talking a lot in the past few days. Historically, Eddie had always hated phone calls, especially when a single text could usually save you a half an hour of awkward small talk. But with Steve…it was different. Everything with Steve was different. They didn’t even have to be talking about anything important. They spent an hour and a half the other night debating over plot holes in the Lord of the Rings franchise. 

He had been calling him from the hotel’s room phone, adding in yet another lie about forgetting his cell in his non-existent fumigated apartment. But he didn’t feel too guilty about that one. Especially since he went through the extra effort to buy a new real (fake?) cellphone. One that he had purchased specifically for talking to Steve with. Because no matter how much he liked the guy, he wasn’t breaking the cardinal rule of keeping his real number a secret. Not after the insane shit fans sent him the last time it accidently went public.

No, he did the much saner thing of dropping eight hundred dollars on a smartphone and an extra phone plan that he’d only use to talk to the dude he’d been dating for less than a week. 

He really was killing it with the circular logic these days. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore. This whole…thing had gotten away from him. And it was becoming a touch too insane for Eddie to keep rationalizing the lies. And it wasn’t even his usual brand of insanity, this felt almost clinical. 

But that didn’t stop him from dialing Steve’s number the second his new account was officially activated. 

It rang twice before Steve answered, “Hello?”

God, even the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie shiver. 

“Hey it’s me,” Eddie said like a moron. Like Steve would recognize his voice after one date and a handful of calls-

“Oh Eddie, hi!” Steve said, and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s so weird. I was literally just thinking about you. I’m guessing you got your phone back?”

It was the smallest bit disconcerting, that just the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie’s heart beat like crazy. He was kind of used to being the guy who made people nervous, not the other way around. Though he had to admit, it was a little exhilarating to be on the other side of it.

“I did. And you were huh? What were you thinking about?” Eddie purred, more than a bit proud that his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.  But if he was ever going to fuck this guy he needed to amp up the charm.

But unfortunately for him, Steve was very good at throwing him for a loop, “You know those Afghan Hounds with the really long hair? Well I just saw a black one that I swear looked exactly like you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, loud and unbidden, “God, you really know the way into a man’s heart don’t you? Who doesn’t like being compared to a dog?”

“It was a very pretty dog,” Steve tried, “Extremely cute.”

Eddie laid back on his bed, smiling at the ceiling like an idiot, "You think I'm pretty?"

He couldn’t see him, but Eddie could swear that Steve was rolling his eyes before saying, "I think you know you're pretty. You’ve seen a mirror before right? Y’know, the shiny things that show your reflection?”

God, he could be such a little bitch. Eddie freaking loved it.  

“Well now you’re just making me blush,” Eddie laughed, hoping that it came off as a little sarcastic instead of painfully honest. 

“And I bet that’s pretty too. So what's up?"

Oh y’know, just obsessively thinking about you near constantly, “I was just wondering when I would get to see you again.” 

"Well, my sister's going to be at her girlfriend's place tonight. How do you feel about coming over? I know it’s late but-”

“I’d love to,” Eddie interrupted, already excited. If that wasn’t a green light for them going further Eddie didn’t know what was. In a few hours it would be nearly midnight. And Eddie was more than down for a booty call, “When?”

“Maybe a few hours? I can text you the address. I’m sorry that my schedule is so fucked, but y’know. Night shift.”

“No worries. Guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Looking forward to it.”

From the latest chapter of this fic, inspired by this post

[drowninghell]

Just like a storm

Raphael x Fem reader

Jeez longtime no see folks! So sorry about falling off the face of the earth, life got in the way and I’ve been struggling to even write for fun! So here! Take my first piece in months, unedited but I hope you all enjoy! Have a nice day! 👍

Minors do not interact

Angst fluff

Unedited

The night was rough, there was a static like quality, the misty rain fell in torrents. Light enough that you barley felt it upon your face but heavy enough that within ten minutes, your clothes would be saturated. A gale weaponised the water and the dark clouds above were lit up like a tinder box. Vicious forks spanning out along the sky, jagged and angry in their movement . Then, the deep rumble that reverberated the world , the rumble that silenced the bolts of lightning.

“ I’m not doing this anymore.” His gruff voice was raised, loud enough to hear over the tail end of the thunder, loud enough that it felt as though her soulmate was screaming it at her. Physically recoiling. Tilting his head downward against the rain her turned away from her. He turned his back on her.

“ that’s it then? One fight and you are out, just like that?! Since when have you been such a coward! “ Rage coursed through her , strong enough to rival even that of the red clad terrapin. White light flashed across her face, illuminating her features, the features he was so besotted by. As quickly as the harsh light came , it faded.

Then came the rumble. Nose scrunched, Raphael turned around again. A sharp breath being inhaled, his brow knitting together, chest to chest he stared her down. “ I’m not a damn coward! “ his voice was riding just like that temper of his.

Clash , lightening struck.

“ are you sure about that! Running away! Not telling me what is going on? You can’t do this! You can’t do this to me!” She hissed. “ I ain’ doin this to ya I’m doing it for ya’” He mumbled, backing down. There was hurt flashing in his eye, hard to see with his scarred lip hooked into a snarl.

(Y/n)’s relationship with Raphael was young, around the nine / ten month stage. The stage where the newness has worn off, when the couple begins to mould together , see their differences and their ability to go the distance. Things where going great.They fitted each other. They didn’t have to grow into the relationship,they both slotted together like those missing pieces of a puzzle.

Until about a month ago. The woman was caught as collateral damage, roped into business with the soul purpose of hurting Raphael. The thoughts hummed through her head, how bad the beating she took was, how cold she was, how she had no idea how long she have been missing and mostly how she wasn’t even worried for herself, but for him. If something happened to her, she knew he’d never forgive himself. Her darling dearest would become consumed with anger, that boiling rage that motivated him so, it would eat him, leaving very little left of the man she’d fallen in love with. What a disservice to the world, to deprive the world of the man she fell in love with.

He backed off as soon as she was on the mend, as soon as the bruises faded and began to yellow, as soon as Donnie removed the stitches from her brow. She noticed it straight away, she tried to soothe his guilt, to temper it. Nothing worked. It got to the point he couldn’t even look at her. She confided in Leonardo and he confirmed her suspicions on the sudden distancing.

He started by ignoring texts and phone calls, ghosting her for days on end. Making plans anytime she came to see him.

Hence how they ended up here.

“ yes you fucking are! What are you so afraid of!” Her resolve was crumbling, that strong voice wobbling with the reality that she could lose him. “ raphael, please, don’t do this to me, to us.” Her voice quietening. His anger was crumbling too, his eyes widening as his brows raised. His lips in a down turned frown as he took a step back. Physically recoiling at her words. As though catching himself he pulled the brows down back over his eyes and turned in his heel. Walking away without a word, a hand splayed flat on the wall, ready to make his descent into the alley below.

“ I’ll never forgive you! “ she shouted, anger taking over reason, she loved him, adored him.

Those words made him stop. He could feel his heart drop into his stomach, he could feel the anxiety shaking his limbs, the tears burning behind his eyes.

He turned around then, relaxing that hurt with anger, like a hurt dog biting back. “ forgive me for what huh’? For takin’ care of ya, for doin’ What’s best for you!” His voice was loud, he was shouting at her now, the cracks in his tone didn’t go unnoticed as he stalked towards her.

“ no! For making me love you!” She screamed right back. Squaring up to him as he did her. Tears flowing freely.

He was silent for a moment as he stared at her, this was the first time she had said that. They where so easy going, both not really the” let’s define us “ type.

“ you nearly died.”

He said. He needed to let it go, all this anxiety and rage, the suspense and nerves he’s been bottling up. She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. There was a long pause, she opened her mouth to speak but was cut off. He had to take his time, to think before he spoke , to not just blurt it out.

“ you wanna’ know what I’m so afraid of , fine.” He began to pace, his head angled so he was looking at her.

“ I’m afraid that there is gonna be another time, another day and I won’t be able to get there.” His hands where restless by his side , fists clenching and relaxing repeatedly “ I’m afraid that just being associated with me is gonna get you killed” he shook his head, a large three digit hand wiping the rain from his face. “ I’m scared you are gonna get yourself killed being with me. It’s not a risk I’m willing ta’ make.” His accent heavy, the Brooklyn ringing strong.

“ well that’s not your decision to make.” She whispered , he still heard it. He felt

Unheard and he had To get his point across,, she moved to

Be right infront of him. She reached out and grabbed his hand, he

Didn’t move out of her grip. Instead his two hands came to cup her features. “

You Aren’t listening ta’ me! Y/n! I’m scared of everything, I’m scared to move! I’m

Scared to be away from you! I’m scared any time I know your in your apartment by yourself! I’m scared to be near you! And it’s your fault! I let you in! I don’t let people In, you knew this! “ he dropped his hands to his side, a tear dropped from his cheek. His antsy behaviour continued as he recommenced his pacing.

“ guess what Raphael! Nobody makes my decisions for me! No one! It’s my decision to be here , to be with you! “ she was so ardent, so passionate as she forced herself into his space. He looked looked down his nose into those tearful eyes. “ I can’t-“

“ no stop it! Stop it! I’m here, it’s not just You anymore, im here and I’m staying alright! You ain’t getting rid of me that easy alright darling.” Her face softened, standing on her toes she cupped his features, like he did hers. His big hands framing hers. His eyes so sorrowful, she smiled through the little tears pooling. “ I want this, I want you. Please have me. “ she whispered quietly. He said no more as he pulled her into his plastron, a tentative hand holding the back of her head as she melted into him.

Both their bodies relaxing with a long exhaled breaths, ridding the anxiety from their bodies , sinking into each other she let him lean down and scoop her off her feet. Just so the big bara could give her a proper squeeze. His insecurity of being a good protector snuffed out as he felt her return the squeeze, his heart swelling in his chest. Their lips found each other, it was slow and passionate, heavy and filled with salty tears. That argument had the, both thinking they could never be like this again, and god did they savour it.

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 2/?

Prev | Next

When Danny’s parents had recommended they hide out in Gotham for a while, the protest had been on the tip of his tongue. Gotham was Batman’s territory. Danny didn’t want to risk it.

“Batman doesn’t allow metas,” Danny had said instead of what he should’ve.

“But honey, you won’t be using your powers. Besides, there’s so much ambient ectoplasm that it would be hard for the GIW to hunt you down even if you accidentally use your powers for a short period,” his mother explained.

“Yeah, Dann-o, you need a place with rich ectoplasm, and Gotham city has the second highest amount of it aside from Amity.”

“But Batman is part of the Justice League. If they ignored us before, it’s because they’re fine with what the government is doing.”

Both his parents looked at each other, “We know, sweetie, but it’ll only be for a few weeks. Just enough time for you to recharge.”

For use to recharge, went unsaid.

So, Danny had given in.

Seeing his birth father in his full Batman suit, he regretted not telling his parents the truth. All of this could’ve been avoided if Danny hadn’t been a coward.

The only reason they could be here was that they knew of Danny’s half-ghost status and were going to hand him over to the proper authorities. His slow heartbeat almost reached an average person’s level out of fear.

Danny watched silently as his little family prepared to fight the Bat clan. All to defend him.

Behind Batman’s shadow, a small figure dressed in muted reds, greens, and yellows came out. Damian.

Danny felt the stab wound that had long since healed and disappeared throb on his back.

“Jack, you take Nightwing and Red Hood from afar with the ectoblasters. I’ll take on Batman and Black Bat. Kids, you guys support us in the GAV however you can. Do not leave this vehicle, understood?”

Danny studied all their determined faces. His mom could’ve been back at Fenton Works pouring over data and writing papers. His dad could’ve been inventing new ghost gadgets and fishing for ghosts through the ghost portal while eating fudge. Jazz should’ve been in college.

They gave up their lives for a boy who wasn’t related to them by blood.

Danny took the keys to the GAV and phased through it. He locked his family in and ignored their cries of alarm.

He refused to put them in further danger.

Danny walked up to Batman and Robin, his shoulder straight, “I surrender but leave my family out of this. Call the GIW and any other hunter you need to, and I’ll go quietly.”

Behind him, Danny heard his family scream out in outrage and horror at his words. He ignored them. Looking at Batman straight in his white-out eyes, Danny put his hands up so he could be led away.

____

Bruce had no idea what he would find when he came for his previously unknown son. Whatever it was, this wasn’t it.

Danyal was holding his hands out as if ready for them to be handcuffed, and the Fentons were kicking and screaming in the RV (at least, Bruce was pretty sure it was an RV).

He looked around the scene and figured that having his whole family suited up and ambushing the small family was probably not a good idea. He was better than this. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was a bad idea?

He should’ve just come with Damian and maybe knocked on their door instead of scaring the shit out of them.

They had been ready to leave, he justified it to himself.

You could’ve put a tracker on the vehicle, the logical part of his mind told him.

Bruce didn’t voice any of this or let it show on his face.

“Danyal,” the boy flinched.

“It’s Danny,” he said with anger in his voice.

“Danny, we didn’t come here to fight or…arrest you.” Bruce would later figure out why Danny thought that “We just want to talk.”

Danny looked at him in disbelief before eying Damian and the rest of the family. Everyone else started fidgeting, looking uncomfortable. Bruce knew they were coming to the same conclusion Bruce had.

They had been too hasty and let their emotions rule them.

“So, you’re not here to arrest me.”

“No, why would you think that?”

Danny’s face shut down of any emotion.

“No reason,” the boy answered.

“If this is about your meta powers, I know it seems like I hate metas, but I don’t. I don’t want them here because they would be in danger from my rogues.”

Danny stayed silent. He looked back at the Fentons; they were still trying to get out of the vehicle while spewing threats at Batman and his family.

Danny did a hand signal, and they calmed down a little though they were still tense and finding ways to get out.

Danny sighed.

“Akhi, I’m sorry.”

Danny froze; it looked as if he wasn’t breathing.

“I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve come with you. I shouldn’t have…I’m a horrible brother and a worse person.”

“Dami,” Danny whispered.

Damian started crying. Big fat tears fell from his cheeks (cheeks that still held baby fat to them). Bruce watched in horror as his youngest fell to his knees. Damian had always been the least emotional of all his children, so when he broke down crying, almost none of them knew what to do.

Danny stepped forward before stopping, “Oh, Dami.”

Danny didn’t make any other move. A part of him wanted to comfort his younger brother as he used, but he still remembered the feel of cold metal going through his back. He still remembered the feeling of betrayal as his baby brother left him a growing pool of his blood.

So, he did nothing. Danny stood there as his younger brother held himself and cried out his regret.

Danny couldn’t find it in himself to forgive his younger brother.

He knew Damian had been brainwashed (he had been six!), but Danny had been a child, too. He had sacrificed so much for Damian, and his brother betrayed him. It was hard to forgive even when, logically, he knew it wasn’t Damian’s fault.

(It was Talia’s, Ra’s; not Damian’s)

But emotions weren’t logical, now, were they?

Emotions are useless, Ra’s’ voice rang through Danny’s head.

Shut up.

“What now,” Danny asked as Damian calmed down.

Batman looked at him and then at his family behind them.

“Now, we talk.”

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo

[kxhbee]

Love From You

Part Three

~ Rowan Laslow x Reader

~ Friends to lovers

~ Fluff, light angst

~ 1,680 words

~ You fell first but Rowan fell harder

~ Not my best work

~ Not proof read

Key:

~ Y/N: YOUR NAME

~ Y/L/N: YOUR LAST NAME

~ A/N: AUTHORS NOTE

A/N:

I’m so sorry this took longer than I wanted! I wrote an alternate version of this (specified in bottom a/n.) and I’ve had a pretty busy week. But here’s part three! There will be a part four :)

Distracted by all the happiness you were feeling right now from finally talking to Rowan and even having his hand in your own, you completely forgot about the plans you made earlier.

This includes the person that’s standing right outside the Nurse’s office, gaping at the people in front of her.

“Oh. My. God.” She squeals. “You finally spoke to him.”

“Enid…” You can already hear the secrets that are about to be shared and the things she’s going to say to embarrass you, as if you preordered them. God it would be useful if I could pre-hear what Enid was going to say. That way I could embarrass her before she gets a chance.

“It was about time. I didn’t really want to hear ‘Oh my god,’” She puts on an impression of you. “E, I wanna talk to Ro so much but I don’t know how to start a conversation with him. I’ve written so many stupid letters it’s insane.’” She grins at her impression, clearly proud of her accuracy and success in embarrassing you.

Your face goes red when Rowan’s face appears in your line of vision. He’s smiling softly and his head is tilted so he can see you.

“Ro?” He asks, a light blush sitting on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Enid.” You say sarcastically. “I’m walking Rowan to his dorm now. I’ll meet you back at my dorm.”

“Okay then! Have fun! I’m sure all that kissing practice will come in handy now.” She winks and skips away humming, a bag of soft drinks and snacks swinging from her hand.

“Oh my god, please ignore her, she lies for fun.” You turn away from him to hide your face. Enid didn’t waste one second.

“You called me Ro?” Turn around and look at him Y/N for God’s sake. Stop being a coward. You turn back to him, and his soft smile is gone. Instead, a smile wider than you’ve ever seen on him is on his face. How has my face gotten even hotter??

“Maybe…” You smile back, beginning to walk down the hallway. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No…” He mumbles shyly. “I like it… I’ve never had a nickname before.”

“Seriously?? Your family never gave you one?”

“I don’t count ‘Ro-barb’ as a nickname. Courtesy to my mother and her… odd choice to nick name me after a rhubarb.”

“What?” You chuckle. “I think that’s adorable. My one wasn’t any better, I got called “Pumpkin-Bumpkins” by my sister for 6 years straight. And still counting.”

“Still counting?”

“Yep. If you meet her at the parents day she will ruffle your hair.” Using your unoccupied hand, you reach up and ruffle his hair with the most aggression you can. Gotta make it seem like the real thing. “Just. Like. That”. You draw your hand back, smiling. He really does look adorable when his hair is messy.

“She must be an older sister then.” He says, returning the smile again. “Will she really do it that aggressively?”

“If you thought that was aggressive, you’re in for a treat,” You make a turn onto some stairs as you talk. “and you’re right. She’s about 20 now. She used to come here. Mind reader. One-of-a-kind.” You wave your hand around dramatically.

“I’ve never heard of a mind reader Nevermore student.”

“Yep. Would’ve been cool if I got her powers. All I got was some shit I can’t control.”

“You can’t control your powers?”

“Nope. I don’t even know what they area So far I’ve… accidentally set fire to my desk at my Normie school- the one I was at before I transferred here, because I was stressed about a surprise test, smashed a glass souvenir with my mind because I was disappointed that I got expelled from said Normie school, and some other stuff.”

“Like throwing me across the room with your mind?”

You stop and gape at him.

I forgot I would need to have this conversation.

“Surely you didn’t believe that I thought a fencing sword did that damage.”

“Aren’t you mad?” You ask cautiously. All this work to get to a friendly point with him is about to go out of the window…

“Are you kidding? From your reaction I assumed that you had no idea what you were doing. Of course I’m not mad.” He stated matter-of-factly. “I could never be mad at you.” He mutters the last part under his breath.

“What was that?” You ask, a teasing tone to your voice.

“Nothing…”

“Right… anyway, it’ll happen less. I’m taking extra lessons so we can figure out what the hell is going on. Hopefully I stop sending you flying across the room.” You wink at him.

He laughs nervously, his cheeks turning a light pink.

“Well if you need some more help… I’m here? I mean, I can’t help as much as the teachers can but I can help in some way.”

He stops walking and stands out the front of a dorm door, letting go of your hand. You can’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

“This is my room… um… thank you, Y/N. For everything you did Today. That includes throwing me across the room.”

You laugh.

“You’re welcome, Ro.” You watch his face go slightly redder at the use of the nickname and you smile at him. “And thank you, for the help offer. I’ll definitely take you up on it, especially if it means I get to spend more time with you.”

Smooth Y/N. Good job.

“That’s great then! I’ll um… see you around.” He opens his door but you put your hand on top of his, which was resting on the doorknob.

“Wait… sorry if this is sudden, but can I,” You take a breath in. I won’t get a yes if I don’t ask. “Can I get your phone number?”

Silence. He looks down at your hand that’s still resting on his and you pull it back. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him. You’re about to apologise but he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Just um… just give me a second. I don’t have it memorised.”

You pull your phone out and hand it to him. He pushes his glasses, which had fallen down a bit, up higher on his nose. Every single thing that this man does leaves you weak at the knees. Surely it’s not healthy to love the way someone does every little thing. Like the way he takes his blazer off when the Greenhouse gets too hot. Or the reflection his glasses leave on the walls, tables and floors when the sun shines on it. Or the way he loops his handwriting when taking notes. You’re completely starstruck by him, but are you complaining?

It takes you a while to realise that he’s done. He holds the phone out to you, waiting for you to take it.

“I’ve also put my instagram in there… I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh! No that’s okay, I’ll follow you right now.” You tap the ‘request follow’ button on his profile and look back up at him.

“Wait… stand still.” You open the camera app and point the camera at him.

“I need a contact photo for you… smile! You can take one of me too.” He smiles awkwardly. It catches his personality perfectly.

“Can’t we… take a selfie?”

“That’s an even better idea! Come.” You pull him close and wrap an arm around his shoulders, holding up the peace sign. It’s your go-to pose, as is most people’s. Rowan looks up at the camera and smiles again, but this smile seems more genuine. You can’t help but notice the light touch of pink lingering on his face. It ties the photo together well.

You send the photo to him and finally say goodbye, feeling happier than you have in a long time.

“You guys are so cute.”

“AH WHAT THE FUCK.”

Enid laughs.

“How long have you been there? I thought I was meeting you at my dorm?”

“I got bored so I decided to catch up with you.”

“Did you even make it to my dorm?”

“No.” She says, holding the bag up so it’s level with her face. “I got bored.”

“Okay. Fair enough.”

“So… you and Rowan, huh?”

“Oh come on. We’re just friends.”

“You held hands.” She points out.

“We hold hands.”

“Point taken.”

__________________________________________

After making sure the door was closed, Rowan leans against it, sliding down to sit on the floor, the photo that Y/N sent to him open on his phone. Someone wants to be my friend. Someone actually wants to be my friend!

It’s been far too long since Rowan had made a friend. He’d tried- of course he had tried. But he had zero luck, so he believed he was destined to be an outcast.

Until someone showed up with their perfectly enchanting smile and threw him across a room.

“What was all that about?”

Rowan scrambled to his feet, turning his phone off as fast as he could.

“Oh. Hi. I thought you were at fencing.”

“Just came back.” Xavier throws his helmet onto his bed and takes a seat at his desk.

You can see the complete difference in personalities between Rowan Laslow and Xavier Thorpe just by looking at their shared room. It’s split almost perfectly down the center, with two desks on the same wall. Xavier’s desk looks like the rest of his room- there’s clutter everywhere; clothes, books, pencils, a towel draped over his chair, his school bag sitting messily on the floor, and his bed is unmade. Rowan’s side however is much neater. His books are stacked neatly in a bookshelf, his drawers contain all of his clothes, cleaned and folded, his pencils and pens are ordered neatly in pencil holders, and his bag is sitting on a shelf above his shoe rack.

They could not be more different. Which is exactly why Rowan is in full belief that he and Xavier Thorpe will never be able to get along as friends.

“So. What was that all about?”

A/N:

Hi! The alternative I had drafted was one where Xavier opened the door and saw Y/N and Rowan before he let go of your hand, and started teasing you guys. If you’d like the alternative let me know!

I’m also planning to build a friendship with Rowan and Xavier, and I’d like to put Wenclair in this fic but I don’t want to upset people who don’t ship them, so I’ll think about it before I add them.

This wasn’t proof read, so I’m sorry if it’s got any errors.

Hope you enjoyed :)

- Kai

[zileans-big-cl0ck]

Hello! How u doing?

Can i ask for some DarkCosmic! Jhin x gn! reader headcanons! Im crying fr there is barely Jhin content. Im so happy i found your blog, its so damn great <33 ilysm!! Take care :D

✦–Dark Cosmic Jhin x reader short story.✦ SFW

✦Demos on their way to provide Jhin content for you, because Jhin enjoyers deserve everything that’s the best.

✧ prompt: ✧ just some headcanons that are placed in the Cosmic/Dark Star alternative universe.

✧ champions: ✧ Jhin, the Virtuoso (Dark Cosmic).

✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral (no Y/N used).

✧ author’s note: ✧ I’m afraid it turned out more like a short story than headcanons, but you must forgive me, the whole Cosmic universe is just so emphemeral and majestic, it called me by itself to write something like this, frfr. Like, I literally have Dark Star Kha’zix as my main theme, just because it’s the most aesthetic skin in the entire game. ANYWAYS, guys, hit me up with any ideas for Jhin content, because I’m gonna take care of it, I PROMISE. And don’t worry about your asks, I’m really writting them, I’m just a bit lazy and slow. As always, please ignore any mistakes.

masterlist

The Cosmic Court has lost Jhin’s light. He has fallen into the Dark Star’s trap, embraced the inky space. Now, bestowed with new starfire powers, he conscientiously begun to claim the Universe as a canvas for his artwork.

Jhin’s corruption quickly escalated, cosmic frame mirrored the cells of his mad and abstract concept of reality. It all belonged to him now. He could create anything or make nothing from the absolute; proclaim the universe with a new virtuoso as a cradle of twisted nebulas, incandescent galaxies, blurred across the black reality.

His hunger grew alongside claiming more and more stars, his four emphemeral hands - two filled with the energy of relinquished Cosmic celestial, the other two greeting the omnipotent might of the Dark Star - working, reaching, grabbing, painting, spreading.

These hands, he reached them once for a brand new Galaxy, fresh and pure, uncertain of the destination it should met. It could be turned into something truly gorgeous, breathtaking, beyond anything a simple mortal could ever comprehend. He wanted to ensnare this light, capture it at its most enduring state, and then squize it in his claws, paint the infinite darkness of expanse by its entrails.

But Jhin hesitated. It wasn’t just another impotent Galaxy drifting in space, awaiting its dull end, that would come in eons. It was another Celestial being, alive and in their youth, unaware of the ongoing war between the Dark Star and its corruptants and the Cosmic Court.

He approached, though there was a concerning aspect in their apperance. Like a whirling black hole that he employed to create artworks greater than himself, the artist behind.

Discovered when he found himself closer, he realized that he misses the feeling of gliding freely between plantes, with stardust sweeping through his ephemeral cape. Emptiness surrounded this poor Celestial, ubiquitous darkness and black background only in the sight. It was almost pitful, to look at something so lonely, with no items to craft and work and paint. But Jhin was an artist, which entailed that he felt and saw more, curiosity rised achingly in his cosmic body.

And he obtained them, because Jhin, empowered by the power of the Dark Star, always got what he desired, what his longing soul cried for. Firstly, it was a move made from pity; soon he became covetous, as he saw other corruptants becoming jealous of his new pet. The old, disdainful wraith, Mordekaiser, jeered, demanding his own cohort of enslaved Celestials. ”If Jhin can have one, why won’t we create a whole army of it? Why should we meet constelations with cataclysms, instead of claiming them as our own?” he asked, encouraged by the coward, Xerath. But Jhin decided to mercifully ignore his acquaintances, as the Herald, Thresh, didn’t stop him - his own twisted mind hided his soft spot for some kind of pets.

Jhin admired his new companion’s loyality. They decided to stood by his side, and he was positive they would be loyal even in the end of the Cosmic Court, end of the Dark Star and the whole Universe, just because he had freed them from the nothingless of their corner of space.

He uncovered that he had no desire of consuming nor devastating the Celestial into a new piece of art, just becausae of their purity and mellowness. When born in a dark emptiness, their being couldn’t soak with the benightedness that kept buisy the minds of others. He could bathe them in his own ideas and beliefs.

Neither Mordekaiser nor Xerath could order him to leave his new partner - they became his inspiration, his only appreciated audience. Their word was valued by Jhin more than the ardous asks from the other corruped cosmic titans.

They weren’t ordinal. They were found in a repugnant darkness, embraced by no stars, no nebulas, only ceaseless nothingless. It was almost calming, like the dim insides of the Dark Star, which were consummate, persistent, always hungry for more. Jhin admired it and wanted to show his pet the whole Universe, the beauty he could rip from constellations, melt them to his will.

He often became pensive, milling the thoughts that consumed his mind, pushing him into the greatness of his immense conciousness. They could listen to him for eons about the convoluted twists and strings behind his art. But he would never talk about his past and the Cosmic Court. And they were never malicious enough to force him to confess that.

The whole Galaxy was yours. Jhin was the reason the sanctimonious herold of the Dark Star, Thresh, has brought the rightful owner, the true heir of the devouring force of this Universe, Lux, so she could claim the throne. And by this way, the Virtuoso obtained favourability of his master - the one that gave him the powers. It let him spread the superficial chaos, proudly pace through space with his new companion, his beautiful galaxy, his devotion and destination.

Because Jhin was never reserved; if he wanted the whole Universe to belong to him, he would accomplish this task even without help of the Dark Star.

[tinietaehyun]

The Case of The Detective’s Game [5]

[Detective!Taehyun x Assistant!Reader] [Part 5] [The Case Series]

Pairing: Detective!Taehyun x assistant!reader [ft. Beomgyu]

Genre(s): mystery, thriller, romance, angst, fluff, lovers to enemies!

Contains: mentions of blood, violence, gaslighting/manipulative behaviour, death.

Link: The Case [Series] Masterlist

Summary: His eyes gaze at the screen of the security footage on his laptop. Paranoia fills him. He had to investigate further. You were acting different, ever so slightly different. Perhaps a normal person wouldn’t have caught the subtle difference in behaviour, but he could. It was his job after all.

He watches as you scurry back to your seat before he enters into the office through the footage. The detective’s lips form a cruel smirk, “Oh, and here I thought you’d last way longer than Yeonjun.”

———

Note: This chapter is a lot more dialogue heavy! So apologies 😭 I hope it isn’t too draining to read!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taehyun drags his nose against the curve of your neck and he inhales feeling comfort in the scent of your usual perfume. Your grip wasn’t as tight as usual. Your eyes definitely sparkled but it looked forced. Every conversation with you felt like a challenge nowadays.

This left the ace detective wandering what was going through your pretty little head? What was making you act ever so slightly different? The other employees in the detective’s office obviously couldn’t notice your difference but he could. Often times he could read you like a book; it was amusing how transparent you were.

Though nowadays, you seemed to keep your book closed; even to him. He didn’t like it. You’d tell him all about your day even the minor details that he didn’t care about. He thought it was absolutely endearing that you loved him that much. It was cute.

Taehyun was never fascinated by the concept of love. Sure, he’d felt lust before though he hadn’t much experience in relationships. He just… never had time. He didn’t like the idea of having to commit to someone; what if they betrayed him? What if they turn out just like his father and mother did? Perhaps not to that extreme but still. He was better off alone.

Perhaps he was merely being paranoid. After all a person always changes throughout time; it’s inevitable. Though, some small part of him thinks back to Yeonjun. It was the same with him; these minor little changes. Well, look how that turned out.

The so called best friend of his backstabbed him. Sure, what he was doing was a crime, he couldn’t deny that. Though, all he had to do was blissfully remain ignorant? Was that so hard?

Although Taehyun came off as cool and suave to his employees and the press, he himself knew he had perfected that facade to the maximum. The chivalrous and brooding ace detective of Seoul with the face of an angel. Hm, he loved hearing praises.

Though in reality, Taehyun was simply content with gaining success. Gaining money. Gaining power. His connections with the mafia left to him by his disgusting father made life much easier though he would never admit it to himself. He made sure to end the lives of those who dare threaten to tell everyone about his family’s link to the mafia and underground.

The young detective peers back as you unravel yourself from his grasp and give him a smile. His heart pangs, you were gleaming brightly at him but it didn’t feel the same as before.

Did he feel guilty about using you? No. Not at all, after all, emotions only get in the way. All Kang Taehyun sought was the thrill of being on top, controlling the city and its law like a puppet with strings. He also felt a strange contentment of having you wrapped around his fingers.

He was a coward when his father first gave him that gun to practice shooting on a poor recruit who didn’t listen to orders when he was nine. He still remembers that gunshot like it was yesterday.

He used that same pistol to put a bullet into his dastardly father’s brain one thunderous night. Taehyun smiles to himself.

Taehyun thought perhaps that was the day he got addicted to the adrenaline of holding the gun up and holding all the immense power over someone. Power that all his life he was denied.

He now had power over the law, the criminals below. He was walking on treacherous line of both justice and evil. He wore both masks.

All Taehyun had to do was keep the cycle of convictions and crimes going. Wipe out people who decided to do a little too much snooping in on the famous detective and make sure to have the police grovelling at his feet.

Taehyun was an incredibly sharp man, his intuition was his main weapon. His eyes pierce through you as he gazed at you aimlessly typing away on your laptop.

He just wanted to satiate his paranoia. He was sure it was a waste of time, after all you were hopelessly head over heels for him.

You had to be.

Taehyun had carefully crafted the perfect version of himself. Knew your details, your likes and dislikes. He knew just what to say and to do to make sure you were melting into his arms every time. That your precious head wouldn’t start wandering about unnecessary matters about his past.

Your question about his mother and his childhood was already too much in his eyes. Though he knew if he held back that information, it would seem suspicious to you. You were his beloved girlfriend and assistant after all. So he let you know despite the urge in him to keep his mouth shut.

Sometimes the young detective ponders from when did he cross the border of sanity to insanity? From out of necessity to sadism?

Perhaps he was just like his father after all. Not that he cares, of course. He only wanted to live for himself. Sure he was manipulative, but that was the only way he knew how to live.

Everything had to be within his control, everything had to be predictable. He has to be one step ahead of everyone, every time.

His mind races back to you. You were up to something and he didn’t like it. He was going to investigate regardless. It was in his nature after all. He was sure you weren’t stupid. Yeonjun had already planted the seed for everything. Surely you didn’t follow the path he had set now, had you?

After all, you promised him hand in hand that you’d never betray him. His eyes flicker to the CCTV in the corner of the room. He’d often check the cameras himself; there was a security guard for the office anyway but still he’d always check the cameras when he had time.

His glance is aimed back at you. He remembers seeing you rush out of the profiling room. What were you doing in there? It was from there his paranoia lit the flame of investigation. He had to find out what his precious girlfriend was up to.

His lips twist into an amused smile; it was careless of you to forget about the CCTV cameras installed. Though, it was more so to catch any theft, it happened to catch you. It was also what help him catch Yeonjun snooping around his desk. Though, he has to give you credit, you weren’t stupid enough to touch his desk. Or maybe you were just a coward.

His feet make a turn to the profiling room. It was a good thing his agency’s profiling software had a server backup. Only the heirs of the Kang family knew about the hard drive backup. His grip tightens on the pen drive in his clasp.

Let’s see what you were searching up about.

——-||||||——-

“I’ve got a meeting too, so I’ll close up. You’re meeting with a friend right?”

You nod awkwardly; I mean it wasn’t a complete lie. You considered Beomgyu a friend (mostly). You smile, “Yeah, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen them. I wanted to catch up for awhile after work.”

Beomgyu wanted to meet up claiming he had a few tasks of utmost importance for you to carry out. He wanted to personally brief you on it. With how serious he sounded over the phone you realised he wasn’t playing around.

Taehyun glances at you and gives you smile filled with warmth. His hand cups your cheek, “You want me to pick you up afterwards? My meeting isn’t very long anyway.”

You shake your head as you caress his hand on your cheek, “No, no Taehyun. You deserve to get home and rest. I’ll be taking the bus home anyway.” You let out a small laugh.

He leans in and you close your eyes. You hope he wouldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating right now. His breath ghosts over your lips and you have to refrain from stiffening up. Act natural.

Taehyun’s hand cups the back of your head tenderly and he places a delicate kiss atop your forehead before parting. His places his hands into the pockets of his brown long jacket with a playful smile, “Alright, love. Call me when you get home.”

You would have swooned before but now you weren’t sure if he was being genuine or was this simply all his facade. Nowadays it was getting harder and harder to tell. You had to remain focused. A tiny sliver of you still adored him. You had to crush that part of you.

You nod, “Hope your meeting goes well, Taehyun.” His eyes glimmer, “I’m sure it will; thanks.” A shiver goes through you as he gives you a smile. Why did that make you feel uneasy?

With that, you leave and go to meet up with Beomgyu. This time your meeting spot was another café in a more suburban spot. It had more of a indie/hipster aesthetic and you felt awfully awkward seeing all the teens there crowding to get a post for their Instagram feeds. I mean you would too, it’s a lovely place, it’s just that you didn’t have time.

Your eyes sparkle as you see a familiar dark brown haired man sat at one of the outdoor tables sucking on his drink straw aimlessly dreaming away. He sported a more casual look today- wearing a beige short puffer jacket with a white shirt underneath and baggy trousers. You smirk at him, “Not looking so professional today, officer.”

Beomgyu groans placing down his drink, “Ever since you found out you’re never gonna let that go are you.” You grin mischievously, “Nope.” He snorts, “Well to answer your observation, dear detective. I don’t think it’s a great idea to appear in my uniform when we’re trying to blend in.”

You roll your eyes, “I wasn’t serious you know.” Beomgyu pouts, “Yeah, I’m not being serious either.” You both end up laughing and you peer through the menu as he begins to talk. “I wanted you to collect Taehyun’s fingerprint. A few other things too.”

You almost choke on your own spit at the words. “I’m sorry?” He scoffs, “You heard what I said. I need his fingerprint.” You deadpan, “What you just want me to go up to him and ask: ‘Hey can I have your finger print for no particular reason?’” Beomgyu cackles, “Oh come on, you know I don’t mean like that.”

“I might as well tell him I’m investigating him.” You groan. Beomgyu snickers, “Oh come you majored in forensics. You just need his finger print off some surface he’s touched. Maybe get him to touch something of yours, like a file or something. Then you can use the dusting compound to transfer it onto the sheet.”

You glare unamused, “Yeah, well I know that duh. I’m talking about how the fuck do I get him to accidentally touch a surface. He’s not stupid.” Beomgyu innocently peers at you, “Well detective, that’s not my job. That’s yours. You work there after all. You’re also his girlfriend. He trusts you right?”

You think back to his interactions with you. You find yourself nodding, “…yeah he does. I think so at least.”

Beomgyu hums, “Great, try to get two full fledged fingerprints. Be careful though, don’t get caught.”You nod and you murmur seriously, “Why do you need them? Are you comparing them to anything?”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “Taehyun seems to know how to avoid the forensic eye. He most likely wears gloves when handling bodies or weapons.” You sigh in frustration; Taehyun was too detail-oriented. He doesn’t slip at all.

Beomgyu hums, “But, remember. His finger print is already on our database, as is everyone’s. However I want physical transfers. To add to the file. Additionally, I want you to try and get more evidence. Perhaps at his home or desk.” You groan, “I feel like I’m doing all the work. Dangerous work, no less.”

Beomgyu deadpans sarcastically, “Well you don’t expect me to just walk into your office and start snooping around do you?” You mutter, “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

You both become startled as a car pulls up beside you both. Your face immediately drains into a pale colour. That car. That fucking car. No fucking way.

The sleek black car; an expensive model no less. The number plate which you knew far too well. Beomgyu stiffens up, “What?”

The indicator light turns off as the car smoothly parks next to the pavement. You feel extremely dizzy; you couldn’t even strike this off as someone else’s car. You knew that number plate like the back of your hand.

You shakily stammer peering at Beomgyu, “T-Taehyun…” Beomgyu’s eyes dilate exponentially and his jaw laws tightly. “The fuck?,” he whispers tensely.

You side eye the car that seems to be momentarily still. The car door opens revealing your boyfriend as suave as ever. His handsome looks turn heads from the other café customers and passer-by’s.

A nervous swirling and nausea hit you. How did he get here? Was he trailing you? Shit, you should have been more careful. Perhaps, you should have moved your conversation inside the café despite how crowded it was.

Taehyun peers around nonchalantly. His eyes lock onto yours and he gives you a bright smile. You feel Beomgyu’s energy change. The way his eyes darken; they showed rage. His friend’s killer was right in front of him. You couldn’t imagine how sickening this felt for him. His fists were clenched to the point where his knuckles turned white under the table.

Taehyun confidently walks over- his hands in his pockets. The star detective was delighted to grace your meeting. His murky eyes meet yours as he murmurs, “Hey love.” You had to keep your composure. You inhale as you say, “Hey, what a surprise, Taehyun? What are you doing here?” You leap up feigning adoration and taking his arm into yours.

A wretched look of disgust crosses Beomgyu’s face before he discreetly hides it with a cordial smile. Your heart pangs. Taehyun’s eyes swirl with various emotions as he intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is tighter than usual.

To be honest with yourself, you had never felt so frightened in your life. You were so terrified right now. You felt like crying. Fear wrapped around you like a tightening vice making it difficult to breathe.

His honey tone cuts through the tense silence as he murmurs looking at you, “My meeting ended early, one of the officers I intended to meet with got called for an emergency dispatch. So, I decided to go I wanted to get my usual pastry before going home. I did say I have a new favourite café, no?”

Oh fuck, he did. He always gets breakfast from a café he always mentioned. Surely it wasn’t this one. It was too far away from work. Then again he does have a car… fuck; he must be lying right now. This is way too much of a coincidence. He had to be trailing you!

He peers at you with a cocky smile, “Fate really is something. What a coincidence to see you here.” You feel faint. Taehyun peers down at Beomgyu sitting, “This must be your friend. I didn’t know it was a guy.”

You clear your throat, “This, uh, yeah.” You hope he wouldn’t recognise Beomgyu from the park. It was improbable considering Beomgyu had a hood covering most of his face. You force a smile, “Yeah, we’ve known each other for awhile.”

Taehyun makes himself comfortable in the chair next to yours; you shakily sit back on your chair. Taehyun sat between you and Beomgyu. You see Taehyun’s eyes gleam as he reaches his hand out to Beomgyu, “Good evening, I apologise for intruding I hope it’s not too much trouble. My name is Taehyun, y/n’s boyfriend.”

Beomgyu takes his hand and shakes it. He murmurs, “It’s a pleasure. An honour in fact.” Your brows raise. Taehyun hums, “Why’s that?”

“Taehyun Kang right? It’s practically a household name. I never thought I’d get the chance to meet you personally,” Beomgyu smiles; his eyes dance with dark emotions. You could tell he was holding back with all his might.

Taehyun’s lips form a smirk making you want to throw up. His eyes suddenly pierce into you making your heart rate soar. “Love, I didn’t know you had such good connections.” You nervously laugh, “Huh?”

Taehyun’s grip tightens on Beomgyu’s hand as he shakes it and he murmurs, “The son of Busan’s police commissioner, quite impressive. It should be my honour, actually.”

Shit, shit, shit.

Beomgyu stiffens and he immediately plays it off as he laughs gleefully, “Ah yes, you recognised me. Impressive, I shouldn’t expect any less of you detective.” Taehyun smiles back, “Thank you. I’ve heard of some of your feats in Busan. Your sense of justice is rather profound.”

“I’d like to think so,” Beomgyu answers. Taehyun hums peering at you, “You never told me you had such a high profile friend, love.” Beomgyu laughs, “We haven’t known each other for that long.” You nod along, “Yes, you know I’d have introduced him to you sooner or later. We only met a few weeks ago.”

Beomgyu smiles, “Yeah, it was at the Blooming Café; we stood in the queue and complained about the wait times. Then we found out we both worked in law enforcement and hit it off.” Taehyun’s leans back crossing one leg over the other. He places his elbow onto the table with a nonchalant expression, “How lovely to hear. A police officer and a detective, a classic duo as old as time. I’m glad she has such good company.”

You hum pleasantly, “I remember not believing that you were the commissioner’s son for a few days straight.” Beomgyu laughs along, “Yeah, I had to even show her my ID card.” Taehyun hums, “How amusing, I suppose that’s the detective in her. Believes what she sees not what she hears.” You nod clasping your sweaty hands together. God, you just wanted to evaporate off the Earth.

Taehyun appears to have a bored expression before abruptly standing up. “Well, I don’t want to intrude for too long now. It was nice meeting you Beomgyu. I’ll be off to purchase my pastries and get home. I think I’ve gotten what I needed to get done today.” Beomgyu curtly nods slightly getting less tense. You stand up with a smile, “Alright Taehyun.”

Taehyun steps closer to you and places a hand on your back. His eyes gaze deeply into yours and his lips morph into a serene smile, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow. As I said, call me when you get home.” You nod, “Of course, bye Taehyun.”

He doesn’t return your goodbye as he walks past you. You slouch as Beomgyu stares at his retreating frame into the café.

Beomgyu slices through the silence brutally, “He knows.”

“What!” You harshly whisper. Beomgyu glares at you, “I-I don’t think he knows what exactly we’re up to but I think he can tell that we’re up to no good. There’s no fucking way he’s here by sheer coincidence.”

You nod, “For sure. This café is too far from work. Surely not right?” He nods, “It seems to suspicious. We have to move our meetings elsewhere. How about my apartment?” You nod immediately, “Anything but outside. That’s fine.”

Beomgyu sighs, “He definitely suspects something. This is going to make everything so much harder. You’re gonna have to be extra careful.” He looks at you tenderly, “Please look after yourself. We don’t know what conclusions he’s drawn from this.”

You murmur, “I think it’s better if we retreat and don’t meet up for awhile. I’ll continue the investigation on my own for now.” Beomgyu reluctantly huffs, “Shit, we’ve gotten too careless. I’ve monitored his patterns and routine, he shouldn’t really be in this part of the city that often. Fuck, this feels like we’re back to square one.”

You shake your heads determinedly, “There’s still a chance. As you said, he may just have a minor suspicion. I have to clear it. He’s not the only one who can wear a mask.”

An awful sense of dread fills you. You had to part ways with Beomgyu for a few weeks and continue the investigation on your own. Taehyun was far too intelligent for his own good. You weren’t sure if you had what it takes; though that wasn’t going to stop your efforts.

You wonder how you were going to get his finger print and rummage through his desk.

———||||||———-

Your eyes covertly peer up at the cameras in the office. You knew that the security guard could see if you rummaged through Taehyun’s desk. You weren’t stupid of course (perhaps a little oblivious at times,) but you had no idea how to snoop around Taehyun’s desk without getting caught by the cameras. It just wasn’t feasible and you weren’t willing to risk your entire investigation.

It had been a few days since Beomgyu and Taehyun’s encounter. You didn’t sleep that night. Just like you promised, you called him that evening. As usual, you talked and he uttered sweet nothings into your ears. He seemed unaffected at work too, treating you as he always did.

It was anxiety-inducing. How nonchalant he was. Did he truly not care or was he simply acting? Perhaps paranoia was getting to you.

Taehyun walks in finishing up a phone call and gives you a flirtatious smile making your weak heart skip a beat. You flash a smile back and murmur, “You’ve been busy today.” He hums pleased, “Indeed, I have. I’ve submitted some finished files to the police and also it seems the workload has decreased. Crime rate has dropped over the last month.”

You gleam, “I’m so happy to hear that!” He nods, “Petty crimes such as thievery and such are still the same but I’m talking about violent crimes of course.” You nod, “Right, right.”

His eyes twinkle at you and his face appears to have a charmingly playful expression, “I was thinking, you’ve not been to my place yet, and you’re birthday is coming up in two days. Why don’t I cook us up a romantic home dinner?”

Your cheeks warm up and you stammer, “Oh, T-Taehyun, you really don’t have to go that far. You’ve been working non-stop these days, it’s only fair you get rest.” He hums, “There you go again thinking about me instead of yourself. Allow your boyfriend to treat you. Plus, I’ve been thinking of wanting you over at my place for awhile.”

You splutter pathetically. What did he mean? He’s been thinking about this for awhile? He’s inviting you to his home; his most private sphere. This was the exact opportunity you needed!

You gleam at him and pull him into a hug. You needed to further earn his trust. He wraps his arms around you snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. He murmurs, “Excited are we?”

You murmur wrapping your arms around his neck, “Of course, it’s the first time I get to see where the famous detective lives. Not only that, I get a whole dinner cooked by you.”

His lips curl into an attractive smirk, “Yeah? Dress up real pretty for me won’t you?” Your cheeks heat up at his seductive gaze as his fingers playfully tap at your waist. You murmur, “Mhm.”

You had to survey his home and see what you could find. This was an insane chance!

“Time?” You inquire. He hums thinking, “Around 6pm, I should be finished cooking by then and all dressed up.” You hum delighted, “Perfect.” You couldn’t let go of this chance.

Soon after your affectionate moment, you and Taehyun retreat back to work for the next few hours. You mostly end up doing administrative work (which was awfully boring by the way), whilst he was walking around and on the phone for awhile occasionally sitting down at his desk to write notes.

He frustratedly clicks his tongue as he ends up moving a pile of papers to the side. Taehyun had been out of the office a lot nowadays meaning he didn’t have time to clean up his desk as per usual. Thus, his papers and files were building up. He absolutely hated mess. You tentatively question, “Hey Taehyun? You need help?”

He peers at you, “With what?” You point at his desk. “It’s really messy. You seem frustrated. I know that desk has been bothering you for the last few days.” You couldn’t push too hard, you had to pressure him just right. He wasn’t an idiot.

Taehyun runs a hand through his maroon locks, “So much mess, it’s gotten so bad. Usually I don’t let it get like this. It’s atrocious.”

You giggle slightly, “You’ve been more outside the office than in, it’s only natural.” He hums, ��I suppose.” His eyes peer across the messy desk and peers at the time on his phone, “My shift ended half an hour ago. Yet I’m still here, this is dreadful.” You smirk, “You shouldn’t be saying that detective. You should love your work.”

He mirrors your smirk and stands up abruptly making you startled; “Oh I do.” Though you had become more confident in your facade, sometimes Taehyun still scared the absolute shit out of you. Taehyun’s gaze sharpens as he hums, “Well, my dear assistant. Since I’m off schedule now, I happen to have a task for you.”

You raise a brow, “That is…?”

“Clear my desk, you’re staying until 6pm today right?”

Holy shit! He rummages into his pockets and tosses you a bunch of keys, “These are keys to some of the drawers in my desk. Make sure they’re locked. Any miscellaneous papers put them in the first drawer. Don’t snoop around too much, I’d prefer some privacy you know.”

“Are you going then?” You ask with precaution as you stand up. This was awfully convenient. You didn’t trust it. There had to be some sort of catch. Taehyun didn’t often let people touch his desk. He hesitated before when you touched his desk, so why now?

You didn’t want to get too cocky with your investigation. It could backfire. Already going to his home was a big step in your books. There was still the issue of the security cameras; although, on camera you’d have an alibi that you were clearing his desk (not snooping of course.)

Surely, the ace detective didn’t trust you that much did he?

Taehyun answers your question; “No, no. You don’t think I’d give you a chore like that and just leave right? I’ll be reorganising the files in the archive room. Not all of them, just section A. Can’t have you doing all the work now, can I? Plus, I can’t let any other employees in there except you and me.”

You slowly nod. You felt uneasy. You felt as though life was taunting you. It shouldn’t be this easy to get to Taehyun’s desk. “Are you sure? I know how particular you are about the placement of items on your desk.”

You were asking more so for your doubt than his. You felt scared. It was as if he was handing out a golden spoon to you. Taehyun smiles at you, “I trust you. I know you’re not foolish enough to snoop around.”

“….right, right.” You laugh awkwardly. He hums, “Even if you did, there would be no problem.” You feel yourself stiffening, “Why…?”

Taehyun gleams a little too brightly for your own comfort, “I have nothing to hide.”

So now you find yourself sat at his desk. You begin sorting through the papers and shredding unnecessary ones. You cautiously notice the camera and make sure you movements don’t look too suspicious. You begin to open the drawers one by one. Some were locked (to which you used his keys) and others were not.

There were various papers all from bills, post-it notes, receipts and mini notebooks. You covertly flick through the notebooks under the desk trying to spot anything of importance.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Some of the drawers were even empty! Wherever you looked, just useless information. Your eyes zone in on the last drawer and you spot nothing but a crinkled and creased map of Seoul. You fish it out and peer at it (not for too long though). Various circles were drawn on it. This had to mean something. These points were so random.

You quickly take a picture (albeit the quality was utter shit,) nonetheless it was somewhat clear. You finish tidying his desk and sit there basking in both your delight and fear. You suppose it wasn’t a total failure. You send the picture of the map to Beomgyu.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead. It was as if you were walking on a bed of needles. You smile as you decide to check up on Taehyun in the archive room. He peers over his shoulder and hums, “Finished?” You nod.

He goes out to have a look and releases a pleasant hum. “Much better, though I think have to move some of the stationary holders around.” Taehyun takes your hand delicately and places a kiss atop the back of it; “Thank you, love. You’ve done me a big service.” His intense eyes meet yours. You still feel uneasy yet you go along with it. You had a feeling he still hasn’t cleared you of suspicion.

——||||——

Two days pass by uneventfully. Your birthday was a day you should be eager for yet here you were sitting in Taehyun’s living room filled with anxiety. Something about being alone with Taehyun in such a private place would have made you brimming with joy but now, you were terrified.

You kept Beomgyu’s number and the police’s number on the ready. He told you he’d be up and ready to answer at all costs. He seemed more frightened than you were. You remember his words from the phone call yesterday night: “Don’t hesitate to call me at anytime. You hear me? Don’t ever think about hesitating. You feel you are in danger. I’ll be there.”

You shudder; you really hoped nothing bad would happen. It didn’t seem like it; Taehyun seemed to be in a happy mood. He was busily cooking away in the kitchen for the last half an hour as you awkwardly begin to look around his living room at the various items. Strange…he had no pictures anywhere. It was blank.

You peer cautiously in the hallway and the blood drains from your face. You spot a used pistol displayed on the wall; alongside a few of what seemed to be hunting knives. You peer up at the display. You mind runs into overdrive, this could have been a murder weapon. Perhaps not the knives. A pistol is what ended Yeonjun’s father. This pistol seemed well worn out and used. How many more guns did he have?

“Y/n! Where-?” You hear him call out and rush back to the living room. You awkwardly laugh, “Sorry, I was just wandering around. I’m so eager to see what your decorative taste is. Curiosity got the better of me.”

“What’s your verdict then?” He asks straight-faced. You stammer sitting down at the small dinner table, “Minimalist with touches of rustic decor.”

He smiles coldly whilst placing the food down, “You didn’t happen to see a pistol on display did you?”

You murmur, “Ah yes, I wanted to ask about that.” Taehyun settles down opposite you, “It was my father’s pistol. A beautiful model. Lots of noise however.” You nervously laugh, “Oh, right.”

He asks you to help yourself to the food and you both begin to eat in a heavy silence. You didn’t like the atmosphere one bit. Every bite of food felt weighty to swallow despite how amazing it tasted. You peer at the small cake with ‘Happy Birthday!’ written on it. You were definitely not happy.

Taehyun scrapes his fork against the plate as he watches you eat. The irking sounds irritates your ears. Your grip tightens on your own cutlery. He hums calmly, “Why did you come here?”

You stop chewing for a moment and peer up at him wide-eyed. You harshly swallow as you stammer, “What you do mean? To celebrate my birthday…with…you?”

Taehyun lets out a laugh; his brown strands fall across his forehead. It contrasted his pure white satin button-up shirt he wore tonight.

You felt awfully nauseous. He asks once again, “No, tell me why are you really here?” His eyes have a sliver of malevolence glossing over them. You drop your cutlery; you have to compose yourself. You slowly repeat your answer and his lips curl into a twisted smile, “So that’s how you want to play, love.”

Your heart palpitates at a rate you think is faster than light. “What do you mean?” You question trying your best to remain brave. Taehyun hums, “Okay, okay, I can play your game.”

You heart drops instantaneously. “Taehyun…what…” you stammer. Taehyun grins to himself, “I have to give you credit. You’re not a coward. You chose to play the game instead of running away like Yeonjun. In fact you were brave enough to set foot into my home by yourself.”

The world around you seems fuzzy. Adrenaline rushes into your system detecting the alarming danger of his tone. “I suppose it is that Beomgyu’s fault is it not? Instigating you and what not. I should have known Yeonjun’s legacy wouldn’t have died out so easy.”

You remain silent. How did he know? No, of course he would know; he’s Kang Taehyun. Your question should be why are you still alive right now?

“If you know why didn’t you stop me?” You murmur coldly.

“I find it amusing.” He responds. You splutter as rage fills you, “…what?”

“I find it endearing that someone as inexperienced as you, thinks they can bring me down.”

You clench your fists, “Fuck you.” He hums, “You’re lucky I didn’t poison your food, no?” You feel your entire body wretch.

“Why…? Are you toying with me?” You angrily snap.

Taehyun hums standing up and beginning to nonchalantly clear the table, “You’re rather special to me. You’ve outsmarted me, I thought I had you wrapped around my fingers but I guess not. I can say, I’ve grown oddly fond of you.”

You grit your teeth, “Aren’t you going to kill me off? Like you did Yeonjun?” He chuckles, “Ah, you’re still hung up about that?”

A sadistic expression crosses his face, “Why, are you scared?” You shake your head, (of course you were.)

You abruptly stand and snap, “Answer me!” Taehyun murmurs calmly, “I won’t kill you.” His tone was eery. “I won’t kill you, so no need to sleep with your eyes open, love.” You tremble in a mixture of rage and pure unadulterated fear.

Taehyun peers at you with a sickening smile, “Although, let’s keep playing this game, detective. Detective vs detective. I’m interested to see how far you’ll get.” He was confident in his abilities. Perhaps overly so.

“Oh, one more thing.” He taunts, using the knife to slice into the cake. He slides a small saucer with a cake slice over to you. It clatters loudly against your plate.

He leans across the table and gives you the coldest glare you’ve ever seen. A solemn expression that sends chills through your very being.

“For breaking your promise. Consider this your very last birthday.” Your legs buckle and tremble. Tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh and,” he sardonically smiles, “You’re fired.”

————————//////////////////////////////———————

[PART 6 COMING SOON!]