#( only GAVE 5 CAUSE I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION 5/5 STARS WAS THE IDEA. NOT THIS HOCUS POCUS )

[boosnotes]

Pastries for you

Ren Amamiya/Akira Kurusu x reader

Genre: fluff Warnings: suicide joke and poison joke A/n: ok, now im into persona cause obviously i get interested in trash (lovingly). the lack of x reader stuff from this fandom is impressive, its either old or headcanons, which theres nothing wrong with that but i need a fleshed out one shot from time to time. also persona 5 theater play/musical slaps. pls tell me this isnt too ooc

You walked through the hallways furious, your steps resonated through the hallway as you thought about what an asshole they were. It wasn't even romantic! You gave food to all your friends, they all knew that, but that fucking dick took it the wrong way. The bag of pastries was wrinkled under your hand now, still edible but not as nice looking as before.

Without realizing, you were already on the roof of the school, prohibited even if it had the lack of people you needed now. The fresh wind carried the autumn air, and sticks and leaves were using it to fly around the world. You went to your usual hiding spot, knowing that it'd be a bad idea to be out in the open and run the risk of being carded. As you climbed over the roof of the entrance, all your energy was causing on the arm muscles as they did the task with difficulty, no matter how many times you did it, it was always hard but rewarding, you were met with another student with ebony hair and glasses.

You stopped in your tracks, not knowing if you were in trouble or not, and you froze. As you both uncomfortably stared at each other, the only thing moving was your hair from the wind and the fabric of the clothing. He broke the silence with a chuckle. "Are you going to stay like that?" He said humorously. You blushed and made a pathetic attempt to hide it away; despite that, you continued climbing nonetheless and then sat with an evident distance between you two. He didn't seem like one of the bad ones, that's what you said of your so-called "friend" though.

You peered over him; he seemed average enough to be anyone, while if you focused enough, the mixture of both soft and sharp features made him attractive, giving him an air of maturity while still looking gentle. The glasses obscured your vision of him a bit, reflecting against the sun and making him shine. He looked like one of those TV stars from k-dramas, fair skin and long legs, his messy hair giving him the perfect amount of roughness to not be categorized as the nerd type despite the glasses. It was cute, but it all seemed manufactured, exactly like a TV protagonist from K-dramas.

"You sure like staring," he commented again, his voice was so velvety you could almost melt into it; it matched him nicely with his face. He was now facing you, leaning back against his also lanky arms. You didn't react to him, you were occupied, from where do you know him? He sure wasn't in your class. He was alone until you came. He surely must be a loner, a reason for you to never have noticed him in the past. Popularity wasn't exactly in your alley, not being part of it nor being interested in the ones who were, the most popularity you ever got was whenever you made a fool of yourself, like the little situation your "friend" made.

"You seem familiar…" You tilted your head, your brain tried to process the two years you had been in this establishment, scanning all your memories for him but failing. Or not. Maybe you have seen him on social media, but you doubt it, you don't check the one you use with people you know in real life. It felt like you had him on the tip of your tongue, never fully flavoring the memory but having the faint taste of him existing. "Which class are you in?" That was a reasonable introductory question, no one would blame you for not recognizing people from other classes.

"I'm second year, class D, Ren Amamiya. Nice to meet you," he said formally, a bit too formally, the type of formality only the people who didn't want to get in trouble would use. Your brain slowly started remembering something, rumors that were probably an exaggeration, like all rumors. Before you could stop yourself, your mouth blabbed.

"Oh, the criminal, right?" you said nonchalantly. Immediately, you felt like the idea of throwing yourself from this roof was extremely reasonable. Before you could try to make up for those words, he laughed, if it was at you or the question was lost to you, yet you took the not getting beaten win. You murmured some indistinguishable apologies, he waved them off as his laughter calmed down; this relaxed aura he carried was sticking onto you, he seemed the type to calm everyone down by just being near.

"It's alright, I am the one from the rumors, it isn't as bad as they make it seem to be. But yes, I am the new student." he was shy about confessing this; he was hoping he could at least get someone who didn't know about his record and just be a normal student with normal friends. Destiny has already made clear that those were not their plans for him: getting beaten until exhaustion with accusations and scared looks. The only one who tried talking to him, apart from his blond friends, was the journalism club. He's still trying to form a friendship with them, especially the president, with whom she is most forward.

"Oh, ok." You tried to play it off, though you were now more certain than ever that the rumors were just rumors. He seemed like an angel, the ideal guy. You nodded off for a bit with a forced smile, then the gauche silence settled back in. Ren had lost hope of becoming friends with you, you had the same reaction as everyone, uncomfortable yet trying not to show it. Now he was sure he had to stop hoping, the reaction only seemed more painful when there was one.

The texture of the paper from the wrapping of the pastries between your hands made you remember you had them, your focus going back to the reason why you made them and how it turned out; it soured you to no end. You should get them out of your grasp as fast as you can. You looked to your side again, he wasn't looking at you anymore; gods, his side profile was beautiful.

"Here, take this." You handed out the food to him, anyone would appreciate free food, right? He turned his head to look at you again, then at what was in your hand. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, his mouth gaped before speaking.

"What's-" he started questioning, but you cut him off before he could flesh his question. He hadn't even tried taking it, so you outstretched your hand more, gesturing to the wrapping with an obvious and kind of annoyed look. It's natural to question whatever was happening, on the other hand, you just wanted to get your stupid pastries off your conscious.

"Pastries, I don't want them, so you have them," you spoke matter-of-factly, it only weirded him out more, though now he was taking it with more humor, as his features softened and turned up with a cheeky smile. His formal attitude, slowly vanishing into a suave confidence, was more truthful than the act he put up until now.

"Are they poisoned?" his body was now more turned to you, focusing his attention back again at the newest person on this roof. The sun no longer shone against his glasses, his grayish-bluish eyes at full display. New information, you didn't hate him or were uncomfortable; you were just embarrassed. It made a weight on his chest lift a little; he felt lighter with you, no longer having to step on glasses with everyone.

"Sadly, no." You sounded defeated, your patience was wearing thin after the long day that hadn't even come to finish. He tried to hide a smirk, he found it humorous how the situation was unweaving; it would be against his principles not to continue this lighthearted scene with no jokes or teasing. "Prove it then."

"What?" You were taken aback, slightly scrunching your face for a millisecond.

"Take a bite or I will not trust you." his tone was egocentric, his confidence increased as he saw you falter for a minute; he took advantage of that second and decided to swipe you off your feet and stand high.

"I'm not-"

"It's dangerous to accept food from strangers," you huffed as you moved yourself nearer him, his grip on the jam pastry firm on the air, waiting for you to accept his little challenge. You moved your head towards it and took a bite, the jam and cream sticking to your face messily, and the dough crumbling to the floor. You both chuckled at this, your hand moved to clean the residue from your mouth, and he looked into your eyes for a moment, making sure you were on the same page and none missed anything, before taking a bite from the same place you did, his cheeky smirk tantalizing you.

The day may not have been so bad, the food lit you up, though not in the way you were expecting. The awkwardness from before has vanished, leading the way for a relaxed talk with the mysterious raven-haired schoolmate.

[marchyslove]

That Smile

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

It’s our one-year anniversary and I have no idea where he’s taking me. I see a blanket in the back seat, and I know it’s going to be something romantic because that’s how he is. He’s not one of those over-the-top romantics, but he has his moments.

We pull up to a big open park, not many people around but it’s dinner time so no surprise there. He got out, almost sprinted around the car to get the door for me.

~~

*11 months earlier*

“So this is your place.” It’s exactly what you’d expect of someone like him, big, fancy, granite countertops, leather sectional, open spaces, a balcony with a hot tub and some couches. Rich people might not always look rich when you see them out on the street, but once you see where they live, there’s no denying they have money.

“It’s beautiful.”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “thanks, I’m not around enough to make it look the way I’d want it to, but I was thinking in the summer I might move some stuff around… make it more home-y.”

I eyed the guitar in the corner, ‘cliché,’ I thought. So many douchebags have guitars on display with no idea how to play them. So I challenged him to it. “you play?” “Yea, I do.” “Are you good?” “I’ve got a couple songs up my sleeve,” he said with a chuckle.

I plopped myself on the couch and pretzeled my legs, staring at him eagerly, “well, by all means, I’d love to hear one.” He didn’t hesitate, walked over and picked up the guitar, he came back and sat right next to me.

“any requests?”

“you know any Clapton? Cliché I know, but I love his music.”

“not cliché at all, anything specific?”

“surprise me.”

In an instant I knew the song, my favorite. When I was younger my mom and I would always listen to 70’s and 80’s radio whenever we were in the car together. Softer, slower music, played later in the day. Then there was bedtime radio that started at 9 at night. It would always start with “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.

He must’ve noticed the smile on my face, because he started smiling too. “You like this one?”

“Love,” I answered, almost too quickly.

His smile grew.

He had one of those smiles that could make flowers bloom, or make babies stop crying. It wasn’t perfect by any means, even a little crooked, but it made fireworks go off in my stomach.

“It’s a great song, and easy enough to learn cause it’s slower. Not too many different chords.”

“It’s one of my favorites. The lyrics are incredible.”

“Can you sing?”

“Not even a little bit, I’m so bad.” Trying to find something to change the subject I started glancing around the room. My eyes went to the balcony. I got up from the couch and went over to the door. I felt a presence behind me. “We can go out if you want.” So I opened the door and step outside.

The warm, summer breeze felt like a hug. I walked around a bit, glancing at the lights and down at the street below. “Careful,” he said as he took a cautious step towards me. I didn’t realize how much I had been leaning over the edge. “Heights never really scared me.” “Well that’s good, but still… careful.” “I always am.”

I looked up; outside the city the stars were a little more visible. “Beautiful,” I said under my breath. Again, I felt a presence behind me. “You big into astrology?” “Only enough to know my star sign, and that it apparently fits me well. Beyond that, I just like to look at the stars.” “Do you know the names of any of them? Or constellations?”

My confidence grew a little bit. My summers laying outside in the grass playing around with the app on my phone that labeled the stars if you point your camera at the sky were finally about to pay off.

“That one is Sirius. It’s the brightest of them all.” “That’s easy to remember. That’s one of the dippers right?,” he asked, pointing up. “The big dipper, the little dipper is right there, and over there is Ursa Major, its shaped like a bear.” “That means there’s an ursa minor, right?” “Very good work detective,” I teased jokingly, pinching his cheek. He gave a giggle and winked at me. My heart skipped a beat.

“So you know a decent amount about stars?” “I know where they are and how to find them, I don’t know much past that.” “Impressive,” he said as he kissed my cheek.

~~

We walked for a little bit towards the center of the park. He carried the basket; I had the blanket. “I’ve never heard of this place.” “I had to do a bit of research to find it.” “Any reason you chose this park in particular?” “You’ll see.” There’s that smile, after a year I still get the same fireworks when I see it. I glance over at him, and he’s already looking at me. “What are you looking at?” “My girl,” he said with a wink.

He stopped walking abruptly. He looked up at the sky, then around the park. Looking back at the car he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He put down the basket and looked through his phone for something. “Are we stopping here?” “One sec, I have to check.” “What’s the difference between here and 5 feet away?” “You’ll see, but I have to make sure we’re in the right spot.” He put his phone back in his pocket, took 8 steps forward, turned back towards me and grinned, “here.” “Fair enough,” I walked over.

He laid out the blanket, put the basket on it. I hadn’t seen him pack the basket; I actually only saw it for the first time when he picked me up today.

He opened the basket and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. I sat down and started pouring. “Shit, give me one second,” and before I realized what was happening, he was running back towards the car. I took this opportunity to sneak a peak in the basket. Chocolate covered strawberries, little triangle-cut sandwiches, a little bin of grapes, some crackers- “no peaking!,” he yelled as he made his way back to me. “Too late babe.”

He was carrying four pillows and dropped them when he came over. “What are these for?” “Comfort, we might have the blanket, but it won’t be comfortable without the pillows.” “Yea, I guess I could’ve put that together.” “I mean if you had an idea of doing more, the pillows will definitely help,” another wink.

He had all the makings of a douchebag, on the surface level. He has that superiorly confident look to him. The way he walks, he doesn’t think he’s better than anyone, but that’s the vibe you get from him if you judge him solely based on looks. If you saw him on the street you might think he was the biggest fuckboy on the planet, but then you talk to him.

He’s goofy, in the best way. He’s smart. You wouldn’t think it, but he’s better at quick mental math than anyone I’ve met, and he knows geography like he’s traveled the entire world himself. He likes to talk about anything and everything. On our first date we spent an hour talking about different birds we’d both seen, and our favorites. He likes loons because they sound funny, I like bluebirds because of their beautiful color. I didn’t have much interest in birds until that conversation. Now every time I see a bluebird I think of him. My family went on vacation last month and we rented a lake house. Every morning I’d hear the loon calling and think of that smile.

“Hey you, whatcha thinking about?,” he poked my cheek, I snapped out of my zoned out state, “you.” He turned away a little but I saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. He had pulled everything out of the basket and tossed it to the side. “Grapes?,” he offered, holding one up in front of my mouth, I opened, and he placed it in my mouth gently, like it was fragile. The sun was starting to set, that’s when I realized there were no lights around. All we had was a tiny lantern he had pulled out of the basket. The view we had of the sunset was incredible, I hadn’t kept track of time on the drive here, so I really had no idea how far outside of the city we were. “How much research did you do exactly?” “Alright to be fair I asked a buddy if he knew any romantic spots and after I got him to quit joking about sex, he gave me a few. Then I googled them and found this place.” “It’s beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you.” “Oh hush-,” he interrupted me with a kiss.

We ate as the sun set, starting the strawberries just as the last bits of golden light dipped below the horizon. He turned on the lantern.

The glow lit up his face, he was really handsome. His skin looked so smooth and he had those long eyelashes that all guys have, it made me jealous. That smile, again. He kissed me, again. He shut the lantern off while we were kissing. He pulled the pillows over and put them behind us, he laid back and spread his arm out. I laid down and put my head on his arm.

He kissed the top of my head, “Sirius,” he pointed toward the star. “Glad you remembered,” I teased. Another wink. He pointed up again, “look.” As I glanced up, there was a light that shot across the sky. “A shooting star. I’ve never seen one,” he was staring in awe. “Make a wish.” “I don’t need to, I have you.” I rolled my eyes, “you are such a cheeseball.”

We laid there pointing out the different stars and constellations. “You’ve been studying,” I glanced up at him. “I wanted to impress you,” he stated, followed by another kiss. I’ve never seen the stars so bright and clear. “Is this why you were so stingy about the spot?” He looked down at me, “I needed to make sure the view was clear so we could see everything.” Like I said, he’s not a huge romantic, but he has his moments. We kept watching the stars in the most comfortable silence. Then, almost as if he let it slip out accidentally, he whispered, “I am so in love with you.” I waited to see if he’d say anything else, but he was quiet, a nervous quiet. “Ditto,” I giggled and glanced up at him. And, without fail, there it was again, that smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay be nice! It's my first work, and like I said- I don't consider myself to be much of a writer. I hope you guys like it, I kept thinking about the idea and wanted to give it a shot! I purposely left names and too-specific details out so people can think of whoever they'd like, and hey! feel free to add the person you thought of to the tags if you reblog, I love stuff like that! Maybe I'll write more if people like it enough :)

If you like it please give it a like and reblog, it would be much appreciated!

[jikookiekosmos]

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

[realcube]

LEAVING MIDORIYA

part one (nsfw) | part two 

tw// mentions of toxic relationships, drinking & mention of a bombing

honestly, if you were given enough time you probably could’ve figured it out on your own — without the assistance of a psychiatrist — but exactly one appointment later, you were left with the disheartening realisation that you weren’t having ‘bad dreams’ and the marks on your body weren’t inflicted by yourself during slumber. eventually, the fact set in that it was your sweet, gentle fiancée who was the cause of all these things. 

this whole time, you were under the impression that you were the problem, that there was a malicious part of you that wanted to paint deku out to be some sort of villain; and now you were finally made aware that a villain is exactly what he is. 

it was a hard conclusion to come to but the initial wave of relief you felt was enough to make you act on it quickly, as the more you waited around and let the fact sink in, the more you doubted whether or not to take action. but reasoning isn’t what you need right now, you just need to get away from him. 

where will you go? you had no idea, but any where away from him is good enough. 

midoriya didn’t even get enough time to try fill your head with even more lies. you came marching into the apartment with the intention of ignoring everything he says and simply pack your stuff so you can leave. no matter how much he screamed, begged or yelled, it was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall hence he eventually gave in, leaving you to collect your things in peace as there was clearly no way he was going to get through to you. 

you left without another word — not even a goodbye — and you were sure to sneak your engagement ring out with you. although it made you sick to look at, realistically you might need the cash since as soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment with your shit in bags, you were officially homeless. 

no need to worry though, you had arranged to stay the night at a friend’s house until tomorrow morning, then you could catch the train to your parent’s. from there, you’d stay with them until you manage to find a new apartment within your price range. 

one problem; your friend just texted you saying that they have to retract their offer because their landlord doesn’t allow over two people to sleep in the same dorm, and they already have a roommate. very unfortunate but hey, what can you do? plus, they apologised and offered to pay for your hotel but you reassured them that their money wouldn’t be necessary. 

now sitting outside your old apartment complex, scrolling through your phone looking for the nearest hotel. since both you and deku were well-paid pro-heroes and bought a penthouse in a rather affluent area, it was no surprise that most of the hotels that were reasonably close were from 4-5 stars.

although a 5-star hotel room for one night really wasn’t necessary, the post-breakup adrenaline was telling you otherwise. it also told you that treating yourself to a shopping spree, getting wine drunk at a bar and then shuffling back to the hotel with mcdonald’s take-out was a great idea! 

those emotional discussions you had with complete strangers must’ve really gotten to you because when you opened your front camera to take some pictures, you immediately grimaced at the sight of your mascara staining your cheeks. you were lazing around in the hotel lobby surrounded by name brand gift bags — waiting for your room key — looking like that? how embarrassing. 

quickly wiping away your tears, you put on a pair of designer sunglasses you brought earlier to shield your smudged eye-makeup from the world. not that you cared what anyone in this damn lobby thought of you anyway, you were only going to be here for one night, after that you would never see most of these people again. or at least, that is what you thought.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw flashing lights which prompted you to take out your earbuds but once you did, you instantly regretted it as all you heard was screaming and yelling from the entrance. looking up, you noticed an average-looking guy wearing a skull tank top resembling the fashion sense of a middle schooler, being followed by a mob of screaming fans, paparazzi and gossip channel reporters. 

“dynamight! thank you for everything!”

“you deserve to be number one!” 

“we are here at scene, pro-hero dynamight has just been seen entering what appears to be his five star accommodation, wearing his signature blac--”

the loud noises were suddenly muffled as the doorman shut the entrance behind him, leaving things just as they were, except now there was a muscular blond man encircled by bodyguards staring daggers at you.

in any other situation, you would’ve just tried your best to ignore him but some of that liquid courage was beginning to get to you, so your reaction was to snarl right back at him, yelling across the hall, “take a picture, why don’t ya? it’ll last longer.”

only upon processing your reply did the man finally snap out of his trance and storm up to, being hastily followed by his guards who looked as though they were ready to throw down at any given moment, so of course you cowered back in your seat, apologies waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill until his face was hovering centimetres away from yours. 

your throat ran dry at his unexpected action, your eyes scanning over his chiselled features through the tint of your glasses. in a turn of events, you were now the one speechlessly staring at him. then, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat, causing the shock to show on your expression. 

“i knew i recognised you! you’re stupid deku’s girlfriend- fiancée or whatever; i saw the invite for your wedding in my mail and i just got a look at your face before i threw it away. small world.” the blond continued to laugh, talking to you as if you were an old friend of his despite the fact you’ve never seen him before in your life, “anyway, you like a hot fuckin’ mess. where’s deku?” 

why was he talking to you so casually? and how dare he say that!

“first of all,” you started, peering over your glasses to gaze at his face without the rose tint but to no avail, you still had no idea who this man is. using the soles of your palm, you pushed him away by the shoulders as he was a bit too close for comfort, but that resulted in all his guard looking at you with murderous glints in their eyes. “deku and i broke up--”

“when?” he cut you off

“let me finish.” you glared at him, fixing your sunglasses, “we broke up this morning. secondly, who the fuck are you?”

the man looked like he was ready to burst out laughing once again until he had a visible realisation, “eh, well, we’ve never met before but i’m sure deku has told you about me. if not, you’ve probably seen me in the news; i saved around a thousa--”

“no, i’ve not watched the news for, like, the past six months.” this time, you cut him off with a mischievous smirk which you tried your best to conceal.

“bitch! let me fuckin’ finish!” he barked, then had a sudden change in demeanour as he let out a sigh, momentarily silent as he scanned the surrounding area, “i’m bakugo. kastuki.”

your reply of a blank stare spoke a thousand words.

“y’know, dynamight.”

who?

“the number two hero!”

nothing.

“the one who saved that whole airline from blowing up just a week ago! c’mon, it was all over the fuckin’ news!”

“you look like a hotter version of my old maths teacher. oh, and i’m (y/n) (l/n).” was the only verbal response he was able to get out of you, even after all his explaining.

“why do you i feel like you are sayin’ that just to piss me off?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, followed by a sharp inhale which you assumed was an attempt to calm himself down. his carnelian eyes darted around the room, halting once he raised his arm to view his watch. his brows knitted together as he read the time, forming a concentrated look which was short-lived as his face was quick to relax, emphasised by a slight shrug as if to say ‘i’ve got time’, before slumping down on the couch next to you. 

“so why did you and shitty deku break up?”

“i may be a bit tipsy but i’m not just gonna tell that sorta stuff to a complete stranger.” each syllable felt like it had to be forced out one at a time, but you’d rather that than slur you speech as bakugo seemed like the type to poke fun at you for it. 

“i just wanna know how badly he fucked up this time.” bakugo smirked, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to turn and look at you, “eh, i don’t think we’ll be strangers for long.” 

there was a certain purr in this voice which sent blood rushing to your cheeks as you never expect someone like him to come on so strong. not that you were complaining, i mean, being in his presence during a time like this felt like a gift from god but you weren’t going to let him know that. it’d only add to his already massive ego so you decided to ignore his suggestive behaviour, opting to show disinterest instead, “hm, you think?”

it was almost comical how fast bakugo’s cocky smirk fell into a frown. honestly, he wasn’t used to people that he flirts with rejecting him, considering that he rarely ever makes moves on anyone. so, now what did he do? due to the foreign nature of this situation, bakugo felt as though he was left with no choice but to bargain, since he’s far from a quitter, “oi, what that supposed to mean?”

you shrug.

bakugo clicked his tongue along with a roll of his eyes before he said, “how ‘bout this; i pay for your room tonight and in exchange we can get to know each other tomorrow.”

“i can pay for my own room though.” 

bakugo deadpanned, he honestly thought he had won but apparently not. perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to hit on someone who had just gotten out of a relationship but whatever. “you’re impossible.” he spat, getting up from the couch and marching away, presumably to his room.

he tried to brush off the encounter like it never happened, reassuring himself that he didn’t have to think much of it as he could get with anyone else. plus, you’d probably come crawling back to him, begging to fuck once you get over deku anyway. 

and he was half right.

eventually, you came to the realisation that both you and bakugo have one thing in common — a hatred for deku. and as it turns out, hatred provides a good groundwork for friendship. 

[deans-baby-momma]

Truth or Dare-Part 8/20

Summary: The Winchester sibling trio has been through so much in the last decade. From the night of their parents’ 30th wedding anniversary party where Sam and Dean eased Y/N from her innocence to Sam becoming a happily married lawyer with a kickass nurse of wife to the three of them now living in the same town they grew up in under the same roof where each of them came of age.  Y/N is a working mother of three,  her days spent helping the townsfolk make proper and suitable financial decisions while bustling about escorting her two oldest to school and her youngest, Mary Ellen, to daycare; Dean’s garage is the premiere body shop for classic restorations and  car maintenance; people from other state’s bring their vehicles to them to be repaired. Business at Winchester Wheels  is booming; Sam is the legal council for Winchester Wheels and has been since he moved back home almost 5 years ago. He has his work cut out for him dealing with the people Dean pisses off and threatens to sue the garage on at least a monthly basis.

After one lust-filled night, the siblings become more than family.  They become lovers. The three of them, together and separately.

One big loving family.

So when Y/N’s boss calls for her to take a much needed vacation, the six of them hit the road. What will happen? Will it bring them closer together or break them apart?

W/C: 1556

Warnings: talk of body changes, SMUT, fluff, Sammy being “saucy”

I would be lying to say the idea of being Dean's one and only, to know that he was bound to me, isn't enticing and exhilarating.

Although, even now we are already practically a married couple. We basically live together; he hardly ever goes to his apartment and never sleeps there. He is in my bed, snuggled up to me each and every night. We raise our children together, making sure all their needs are met. We have sex. Sure sometimes Sam is involved but there are times when Dean and I get some one-on-one time. And let me tell you, as passionate as it is with both of my brothers, when it is just Dean and I, it's more sensual, more intimate.

So, yea I let jealousy get its claws in me tonight and that monster made me believe that I wasn't enough for Dean. I'm such an idiot.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, looking down at my lap. "I got jealous."

I look up at my lover through my lashes and see the smirk on his face. Cocky bastard!

"Don't be so smug asshole," I tell him but the sides of my lips lift. "It hurt. I thought you were tired of me or that I wasn't enough."  

"You will always be enough for me and I will never, ever tire of you," he tells me as he slides off the bed to the floor and walks on his knees to me. "Lisa was exactly what you called her, a whore. Hell, her pussy has probably been fucked by so many dicks, it'd feel like a hot dog in a hallway."

I couldn't help but laugh at his analogy. Dean Winchester sure had a way with words sometimes.

"You're probably right. What about mine?" I ask, feeling those desires creeping back up my body. "I'm sure I'm not as tight as I used to be. I have pushed three humans out of it."

Dean smiles up at me and lifts his hand,  pushing my hair behind my ear.

"Baby girl,  your pussy feels exquisite. Squeezes my dick just right. They, uh, they shrink back after you give birth. Not right away, but eventually."

"What?" I laugh. "How the hell do you know that?"

Dean blushes and clears his throat. "I might have done some research when you were pregnant with Isabella. I wanted to know what I should expect."

"So I'm still tight?"

"Well not as tight as before you gave birth, but baby you fit my cock like a glove. Sammy too. Hey, we talk!" he defends at my raised eyebrow. "We don't always just talk shop at work. I know about what happened when you tried…."

"Okay. Okay," I cut him off, feeling embarrassed about the time Sam and I 69'ed the first time. I actually tried to deep-throat Sam and actually ended up puking on him instead. The man's dick was lengthy!

"Y/N?" Dean says as he looks into my eyes. "Can I please make love to you now?"

I nod and breathe out, "Yes. Please."

Dean puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down, capturing my mouth. He immediately requests access that I grant it by parting my lips for his tongue to snake through. 

I can already feel my clit tingling as I squirm on the chair, trying to find some friction. Putting his hands on my hips he stills my fidgeting; his tongue battling against mine. 

He pulls me from the chair and I land on his thighs as he sits back on his heels. 

“Can’t wait to get inside you,” he whispers against my lips. 

“Can’t wait to cum on your dick,” I reply. 

Dean pulls my legs to wrap around his waist and somehow manages to stand up from the floor with my body wrapped around his. I squeak and curl my arms around his neck as I deepen the kiss. 

He lays me gently back on the bed, never breaking the connection as he lays right beside me, his hand running up and down my body, squeezing periodically. 

We slowly work at undressing one another and when we are both bare, he takes no time in taking his spot between my thighs. 

“I love everything about you Y/N,” he tells me, looking into my eyes. “I love your voice, your laugh, the way you walk, the way you talk. I love watching the way you take care of my children, the way you take care of me and Sammy. I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d want to do any of that with. 

“You have had my heart since I was 16 years old and realized how I felt about my little sister. It might be wrong but it felt so right. Now,” he continues after bending down and pecking a kiss on my lips. “I’m going to enjoy fucking you into this mattress because I really love doing that.”

“Go for it,” I respond and promptly turn my head to the side, burying my face in the pillow and screaming as Dean slams into me. He is fully sheathed and throbbing inside my pussy and it feels so good. So good!

“Move! Move! Dammit Dean, MOVE!”

Dean obeys and begins a hard and fast pace, pumping into me over and over. His grunts are just as loud as my moans and whines.

“Fuck! Baby girl, this pussy will be the death of me. Goddamn, it’s so tight; squeezing my dick so good. Oh, you’re close aren’t you? You gonna cum on my dick? Yea you are. Come on. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you. Let go.”

A sharp thrust causes the tip of his dick to hit that one good spot inside and I see stars! I cum so hard that I think I forget how to breathe, how to do anything, as my climax rushes through my body and releases around him.

“Fuck, Y/N. You squirted all over me,” Dean says in awe. Once I get my bearings back, I become aware of just how wet it is down there. The squelching sound as he keeps thrusting into me is heard throughout the room, along with the slapping of wet skin. 

Dean’s pace begins to falter and I know he is close to his own orgasm. “Fill me up Dean. Put all that cum in my pussy. I want to feel it leaking out of me for days. Come on, cum inside me, all over me, wherever you want. Mark me as yours!”

Dean growls. He growls like a bear right before he wraps his arms around my back, causing me to arch. His hips are going at a maniacal speed as he grunts and pants in my ear. 

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, as he pushes in as far as he can, his whole dick inside my cavern as he throbs and spurts and spews; his cum splashing against my walls and filling me to the brim. 

We lay on the bed, still joined for what seems like hours. Dean’s dick softens inside of me but he doesn’t move. His body on top of mine keeps me grounded and I lay there and think about what happened tonight. 

Dean and I had our first official date as a couple, he took me to a nice buffet and then at the bar he tried to impress me by breaking the record on a mechanical bull. I got jealous and went off on some bitch who was trying to flirt with him, to us coming back and him professing his undying, unyielding love for me and telling me he wished I could be his wife! 

I get pulled from my reminiscing as Dean pulls out of me with a squelch. I immediately feel his cum running out of me and down my ass to the sheets. Dean looks down and smiles. 

“I love seeing you pour my cum,” he says then hops up and goes to the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans me up and then wipes himself off before throwing the rag back into the bathroom.

We climb into bed together and he pulls me close; my head on his chest and his arm wrapped around me. Our hands join on his abdomen and we just lay there, cuddled together. 

“I’ll try not to get jealous again,” I whisper and kiss his skin.

“I like it when you’re jealous,” he says. I raise my head and look at him, confused. “Shows that you do care, you do love me. And it leads to some ah-mazing sex!”

We laugh and I return to laying on his chest. “I have to agree there.”

When we do finally doze off, we are closer than ever before.

There is a knock on the door between the two rooms way too early for my liking, but I can tell by the impatient rapping it is RJ, ready and raring to go. 

Dean and I get dressed before opening the door and rejoining our family. Sam gives us both knowing grins, which I later find out is because he heard us fucking and actually jacked off to the sounds.

Thankfully the kids all slept through it all. That would be a terrible way to start a vacation! 

A/N: Lil fun fact for you. The analogy Dean uses for Lisa is something my brother-in-law said once and it kinda just stuck with me. He was an idiot. R.I.P. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.5

The A+ Day...

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 2320

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

You get to spend the day with the Avengers. Should you be excited or scared? Well, Steve is by your side, so...

Warnings: swearing, FLUFF, Steve’s friends being Steve’s friends… go figure

Story masterlist

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You were very comfy and very warm. Maybe even too warm. Also, your covers were moving behind your back and that was a bit odd, but you blamed the sensation on the morning confusion. Your bed smelled nicer than usual too. You nuzzled closer into the moving warmth, content it stilled its movements.

Except that after that, it talked.

“Sorry to wake you,” the comforter whispered hoarsely and it was like a shot of adrenaline to your veins, making you jolt fully awake, sitting up straight, causing your head to pound with the swift movement.

That was Steve’s voice.

Because you were sleeping in Steve’s bed.  

“Are you okay?” he asked lowly, but you couldn’t respond right away. The memories came rushing back to you, messy but warmly fuzzy images of last night.

You had danced with Steve. Steve had kissed you. Steve had kissed you a lot.  

Your lips unwittingly curled up in a smile despite the abrupt wake-up process. You heard him moving at your side, sitting up as well, so you turned to him, still grinning in perfect contrast to his concerned face.

He looked adorable with his hair sticking in every direction, a bit sleepy expression on his face, and he was also still very much shirtless. You were sure you woke up to heaven.

“Sorry to freak out. I was just… ugh, confused for a bit,” you explained, keeping your voice on low level just like he did, worried you might disturb the peace. “Good morning, Steve.”

His face cleared of worried wrinkles and he charmed a smile for you. “Morning, doll. Slept well?”

“Very. You?”

“Yeah.”

You just stared at each other, grinning like fools, eyes sparkling. You must have looked ridiculous, but you didn’t care. Subconsciously, when he released you from the lock of his eyes, your gaze wandered over him, appreciating the lack of clothing. How could person have a body this marvellous? You knew it was probably the effect of the serum, but gosh. What a view.

Good morning indeed.

You noticed a blush spreading down his neck and quickly snapped your gaze back to where it was decent. But hey, when you were offered a view like this, you simply had to make the best of the opportunity!

Steve seemed a bit sheepish, but you couldn’t help but notice that a new glint appeared in his irises, something in the way he was watching you back that gave out that maybe, you weren’t the only person to enjoy the situation at hand. It took you a second to realize why that was – you were wearing his clothes.

You remembered Ryan telling you about what it felt like to him, seeing a girl – or a guy in his case – in his clothes. Like a flag on a flagpole, mark of ownership on a conquered land, he had told you.

No funny business had happened between you and Steve last night, but the thought still made your face hot all over. To cover your embarrassment, you ducked your head to Steve’s shoulder, resting your forehead on it.

Steve tensed at first, but quickly recovered and sank his fingers gently into your hair, very carefully caressing your scalp, wary of pulling at your hair and causing you pain. You hummed in appreciation, instinctively brushing the nearest patch of skin with your lips – an inked patch of skin. You smiled against your will at that. Your words. Your ridiculous first words to him.

His breath caught in his throat at your bold move, but a kiss landed at the top of our head, so you figured you didn’t overstep.

“How much do you hate morning breath?” he muttered, sounding a bit embarrassed.

“Not particularly…?” you answered, not sure where that headed.

Looking back, you really should have understood what he was asking. Then again, the pleasant surprise of his fingers gently finding your jaw and tilting your head so he could kiss you right on the lips, warm and soft and sweet, was worth the lack of your brain function. You melted, your palm finding a way to lie flat on his very bare chest, feeling every expansion of his ribcage, his skin burning. He deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair enough to make you notice and boy, did it do things to you. You sighed into his mouth, content and yet needy for more, a second from climbing into his lap, too fast development be damned.

Just as you were out of breath, he released you, his thumb drawing a soft circle on your cheek. It was cliché, but your fingertips were literally tingling with euphoria and excitement.

“Wow,” you breathed out, still feeling his breath tickling your lips as he had barely moved away. “Can I stay another night? Can I be woken up like this every morning?”

He gave a breathy laugh, making your eyes snap open, and you could see the blown black of his pupils, the gleam of wanting more now diluted with giddiness.

“Can’t say I’d complain,” he admitted with a lopsided smile radiant on his kiss-swollen lips.

God, he was so handsome. Had you mentally noted he was handsome before? You still couldn’t believe it.

“That an invitation?”

“I mean, if you convince Tony…”

“Oh god, I take it back,” you groaned, falling back to the sheets dramatically, rewarded with Steve’s light-hearted laugh.

He laid down on his side then, propped on his elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Thank you for staying.”

You let out what surely was a very unattractive snort. “’Cause not having to go home and not having to hail a cab in the middle of the night was a real sacrifice…”

Steve was fully grinning now, dropping a playful kiss on your nose, which caused you to giggle.

“I know, my lady. Let me make up for the hardship you had suffered through with making you breakfast.”

“You sound like Thor. Also, offering breakfast to a girl? You are a dangerous man, Steve Rogers,” you stated, the stupid smile simply not disappearing from your face no matter how much you tried to get it under control; so you gave up on that. “You seem to know just the way to my heart.”

“I sure hope so. Are you coming with the adorable bed-hair or do you want a minute?”

You gasped at the cheeky comment, grabbing the pillow by his head to smack his stupidly perfect skull.

His laughter filled the room and you felt like the happiest person on Earth.

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When Steve led you to the communal kitchen and dining room ten minutes later, you were surprised to find three people already there. Clint was sitting at the bar, his head resting in his palm, a mug of coffee hazardously close in your opinion, just in case he would actually fell asleep and faceplanted on the counter; Bruce was sitting nearby, watching over him, while Natasha was standing at the cooker, making…

“Are those pancakes?” you gasped, your stomach instantly reacting to the smell, making you squirm in humiliation. Steve at your side chuckled, while Natasha grinned at you.

“Yep. There’s enough for you too. Unless Steve wants to impress you with his own cooking skills,” she teased and winked at him. He smiled bashfully in return.

“I mean… maybe next time? Since you already started…”

“Oh-ho, so there will be a next time?” Clint wolf-whistled, startling you with both the question and sudden sign of life.

“Let them be…. Coffee?” Bruce beckoned to the pot. You bit you lip bashfully. You didn’t want to be rude, but coffee… “Or maybe tea?”

You lighted up. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

“I’ll do it,” Steve hurried before the other man could rise from his seat. He pecked your temple. ”You go sit.”

“Yes, sir…”

Looking around, you weren’t sure where to. Between Bruce and Clint? Next to Clint since Bruce was at the bar stool at the end of the counter?

“You can sit next to Clint. It’s safe. This is his second mug of coffee,” Natasha supplied helpfully and you frowned in confusion. Perhaps an inside joke. “Yes, he is dangerous before he finishes his first.”

“Hey!” the man in question complained, but rolled his eyes for your benefit. “That’s actually accurate. You can sit here, I don’t bite.”

“He’s just a pain in everyone’s ass.”

“Morning to you too, Stark,” Clint saluted him and a mug of tea landed in front of you, soon followed by a stack of pancakes.

“You’re gonna spoil me. Thank you,” you said in earnest.

Natasha waved it off, while Steve let out a simple “Planning on it.”

“So you didn’t spoil her last night?” the billionaire hummed casually, pouring himself a coffee. Your eyes widened and you rather started eating to avoid an answer. Steve only sighed.

Neither of you replied, which earned you some raised eyebrows.

“She seems right at home in his clothes, huh?” Clint added and you shot him a look, mortified. Him too?

“She does, doesn’t she? Sign of a successful night?”

Steve grinded his teeth at Stark’s latest remark, turning a bit red in his face. You sipped your tea, figuring out a sassy response.

“Very successful. I slept like a baby. Sleeping duty fulfilled,” you announced and noticed that Bruce’s lips twitched as if he was holding back a smile. You continued. “That will be all, thank you for your questions. For further information, contact our PR department. ….Ouch, we don’t have one, looks like it’s none of your business then. Too bad…”

Tony’s mouth was theatrically hanging open, his hand clutching his chest and Clint’s eyes seemed rounder than a moment before; then again, that could just be because of the amount of caffeine in his system. Natasha chuckled, positioning a plate in front of Steve – his stack of pancakes was visibly taller and you wondered just how much he had to eat.

Speaking of Steve, he was smugly grinning into his mug. “I have nothing to add.”

“Still though. She’s like… shining or something. That’s released endorphins, I can tell. Good job, Cap.”

You internally whined.

If they keep that up, staying overnight is gonna start feeling like a sacrifice.

“Play nice, boys,” Natasha scolded them and you smiled at her gratefully. “Let the poor girl eat. She’s gotta make up for the calories Steve helped her burn…”

“You too?” you burst out simultaneously with Steve and Natasha raised her hands in a harmless gesture.

“I meant when you were dancing. What did you think I was talking about?” she asked innocently and everyone in the room but you two laughed.  

“I hate you,” Steve mouthed at her and she just winked in return, turning her attention back to her cooking.

You wished for the Earth to swallow you, but you liked the teasing air hovering above the group of friends. You smiled reassuringly at Steve, stroking him arm shortly.

“It’s okay, Steve. I still like you despite your annoying friends,” you emphasized the last words, which was followed by affective aww from Clint, Tony and Natasha.

Steve smiled at you, apologetic and kind. “Thanks, doll. You’re the best.”

To show his appreciation, he kissed your cheek, the innocent gesture drawing a wolf-whistle from Tony.

“Get a room!”

You just rolled your eyes and stole a quick peck from Steve’s lips for a good measure. He tasted like coffee; it seemed you might grow fond of that taste after all.

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Despite all the odds, everyone survived breakfast. They teased you once more after you asked about Thor, learning he had left in early morning because of an urgent matter on Asgard. After all, he was son of the King. And an Alien. And a demigod. Apparently, you knew those now. What an insanity your life became in such a short time.

The team went separate ways after the meddling over the most important meal of the day. Steve stayed with you, of course, showing you around the Tower. You marvelled at the view and despite having a tiny fear of heights, you agreed to Steve taking you outside at the top.

It was incredible. You found yourselves basically on the top of the world, steps slightly shaky, but with Steve’s firm reassurance. You trusted him not to let you fall. So trying to keep your mind of the potential life-ending fall, you busied your mind with how touchy-feely Steve quickly became after sharing the first kiss yesterday night. You loved it.

When you came to a stop, you were unable to resist the urge to spread your arms and let the gentle wind play with your hair and rather loose clothes; Steve’s hands found their way to your hips to steady you. Slowly, he moved further, his fingers running in a feather-light touch over your arms and threading his fingers with yours.

You giggled and dared to lean onto him with your back, testing the waters. His lips brushed your cheek and you couldn’t but turn your head, catching his mouth with yours in a searing kiss. He was so sweet. You trusted him with your life, knowing he would never allow you to even stumble, and yet you were falling, falling for him so hard. The realization was overwhelming.

How could you be… falling in love so fast?

Steve gently squeezed your fingers, brining your joined hands to your waist and you decided you didn’t care and let the kiss consume you.

When you finally parted, your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Put Titanic on your list, huh?” you murmured, your brain turned into a useless mass of lovesick jello.

Laughter was twinkling in Steve’s eyes. “Not really. It’s a perk of the movie nights, we take turns in who’s picking.”

You frowned in confusion. “Who chose Titanic?”

For some reason, Natasha didn’t strike you the type. Clearly, you were right, because Steve chuckled.

“Clint.”

You burst out laughing, Steve soon joining you. You wondered if the whole Manhattan could hear you. Once again, you had no care in the world.

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Part 6

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Tags:

@cxptain​ @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx , @murdermornings​@irepostthingsiwanttoseelater , @polarcrystall​ @eliza5616​, @rayofdawnworld  @victor-criss-bish​ @skychild29​  @elysianecho​ @simmisblog​ @scentedsongrebel​ @orions-nebula​, @sergeantrosabellaswan​ @songofcosplay​, @ilovesupersoldiers​ @wxstedhexrt @silver-winter-wolf @nova3312​

Tags are open, you want in or out, let me know :))

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I actually had to split it into two parts, because it was waaay to much fluff in one go an that coming from me?  You better believe it!

Thank you for reading. Attempt at humour will come later, promise ;)

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 11

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, AO3

~*CS*~

Vancouver, May 30th

Emma stared out at the large, empty space in front of her feeling exhausted and exhilarated.  She was sitting with her feet dangling off the edge of the stage, her heels drumming against the wall without any discernible rhythm.  Her hair was still damp with sweat from the show and her arms ached from the intensity that she’d played but she didn’t care.  Even the roadies working around her barely paid her any attention, they all knew she was merely basking in the moment.

Her tour was officially done.  Seventeen cities in a month and every one of them had been amazing but there was always something extra special about the final show.  It was as though everything and everyone had come together to create a perfect moment in time that they capitalized on to give the best show possible.  Her playing had been spectacular, the others had been just as great, better even, and the audience had loved every second, sang every lyric, cheered their hearts out.  They’d ended up doing two encores.

As her gaze swept across the thousands of empty seats she let out a contented hum.  They had sold every ticket for every show and each venue had been just as big.  It boggled her mind that every person that filled those seats did so because they loved her music, connected with her lyrics, and appreciated what she was trying to communicate through her art.  She only wished she could have personally thanked each and every one of them for it.

The bustle behind her continued on as she soaked it all in.  She took no notice of the footsteps approaching her until a pair of familiar, well worn boots stopped beside her.  Looking up at Will with a smile she patted the stage next to her.  Lowering himself next to her she noticed that he’d taken a shower, the smell of his body wash still strong.  With a pang she realized that Killian had used the same brand.

“‘Nother one in the books, eh?” Will grinned, knocking her shoulder with his.

“Yeah,” she sighed happily, “Tonight was really great.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Clearly.  You haven’t done two encores in ages.  Then again, you haven’t been too keen on doin’ the planned one lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, frowning as she adjusted herself so she was facing him.

“Well-” he leaned back and gave her an unimpressed look, “Ever since LA and the shit with Killian you’ve been phonin’ it in a bit.  Tonight was the first show you actually looked like you were havin’ fun.”

“I haven’t been phoning it in!” She protested a little too loudly, some of the crew behind her stopped to look over at them.  Blushing she gave them a wan smile before glaring at Will, “I played my heart out at every show, asshole.”

“Not possible,” Will negated, his grin unfurled again, “You left that thing back in LA.”

She felt a pang of longing and regret again, even as she scrunched up her face in distaste, “That was really cheesy and absolutely not true.”

“Oy, you’ve put cheesier lines in your songs,” he accused. “Besides, I’m just the purveyor of truth in these troubled times.  Admit it, you’ve not been givin’ it your all.  Especially in Oakland.  That was a rough one.”

She opened her mouth to refute and couldn’t.  Will was absolutely right and she kind of hated him for it.  Oakland had been more than rough, it had almost been a disaster.  It had taken an intense pep-talk from Ruby and Tink combined to just get her to the venue.  She’d been able to put on a convincing enough show but the second she’d stepped backstage between the main set and the encore she’d nearly had a complete breakdown.  More than once during the show she had looked over expecting to see Killian grinning back at her and found Ruby instead.  Every little thing she’d pushed aside had hit her as she’d moved offstage and it had taken everything she’d had to get back out on stage to finish the show.

“Yeah, well...  Why didn’t anyone say anything?” She asked accusingly. “Regina didn’t even bring it up and you know she loves to find something to critique.”

“Eh, the shows haven’t been complete shite,” he said with a shrug. “No one’s posted a rant or got a new hashtag trendin’ and you know I’d tell you ‘bout those.”

She snorted, “I don’t know why you’re so fixated on social media.  Hasn’t Belle broken you of that habit yet?”

“Ah, but she loves me for all my charmin’ qualities,” he said with a wink. “I’ve her almost convinced to join Instagram.  Told her other nerds’ll love to see her books and all those plants her dad’s given her.  They like seeing all those uninspired posts you do of your piano after all.”

“It’s the only thing I’m comfortable sharing,” she mumbled.

Will stared at her for a moment before nodding and looking out at the empty seats.  She waited for him to finally say what he’d stayed behind to say instead of going back to the hotel with Belle.  He loved to tease and stir up trouble but she knew that when he got serious that it meant something.  There was no way he’d waited until nearly everyone else had left just so he could not so gently criticize the last few shows.

Instead of saying anything he began humming.  Emma rolled her eyes and focused on watching the last of the equipment being packed up and cleared off the stage.  It wasn’t until Will began singing under his breath that she recognized the song.

“Backstreet Boys?  Really?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Show me the meaning of being lonely,” he said instead of singing, “So many words for a broken heart.  Right, luv?”

She recoiled, “My heart’s not broken.”

“Could have fooled me and everyone else ‘round here.  Even Belle noticed somethin’s off with you.”

“She did?”

Instead of answering Will looked back out over the empty seats, leaning back on his hands as he did so.  He continued to recite the lyrics of the song, as though it was a masterpiece in verse instead of a late nineties pop song written with the sole purpose of being a hit.  She watched, impressed and amused by his unabashed performance, spoken in a voice that carried to an audience of one.

Just as she was about to press him about what it was about her, that definitely wasn’t a broken heart, that Belle had noticed he fell silent.  His mouth quirked up at the corner as he tilted his head to look at her.

“Have I ever told you how I met Belle?” He asked, his gaze soft.

She blinked, “Uh, no?”

“Broke into her shop,” he said proudly, the other side of his mouth ticking up into a boyish smile.

“You broke into her shop?” She asked slowly, not quite believing him.

“I was quite pissed at the time.  That’d be drunk to you, you bloody yank,” he teased and she rolled her eyes, “Had the bright idea that a certain book was all I needed to set things to right.”

“You broke into her shop,” she repeated, “to steal a book?”

“Never said I was stealin’ anythin’,” he said with mock innocence. “I’m not sure I like what you’re implyin’.”

She huffed, “Fine, you broke into her shop to not steal a book. Did you meet her when she knocked you out before she called the cops?”

“Not exactly.  You know those squishy little settees she’s got round the children’s nook?”

“You mean the beanbags?  Yeah,” she said nodding.

“Well, I tuckered meself out picking the lock, findin’ that bloody book, and drinking far too much whisky.  Decided to take a little nap before movin’ along,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“So you passed out and Belle found you in the morning?” She surmised.

“The cops found me first, not fifteen minutes after I’d set off a silent alarm.  Belle was livin’ above the shop then.  She had no idea anythin’ was amiss until after they’d cuffed me and had her come down so they could explain what’d happened-” he ducked his head at that.  When he continued his voice was fond, “The constables were telling her what I could be charged with and she just kept lookin’ at my sorry ass.  Drunk as all hell and mouthin’ off, as I’m wont to do.  When they finished their little spiel she calmly told them that I was a friend and she’d forgotten that she’d offered me her couch to sleep on.  Mind you, I’d never even stepped foot in her store before that night.

“Well the officers didn’t take too kindly to that.  Blustered and threatened but she never backed down.  I was at least sober enough to go along with her tales, who was I to ruin a perfectly good lie on my behalf?  Finally, they removed the cuffs and took their leave, not without dire warnings and some more threats.  As soon as the door closed behind them Belle invited me up for tea.”

“And you fell in love.  Cute,” Emma tried not to sound bitter but failed completely.

“Nah,” he said with a click of his tongue, “That took a while yet.”

“Okay… so why are you telling me this?”

Will eyed her, “You’re askin’ the wrong question, luv.”

She frowned.  There were a dozen questions she could have asked, least of all why Belle put up with him.  He watched her patiently which only pissed her off.

“I give up,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re obviously trying to tell me something so just spit it out.”

“You should have asked why I thought I needed a book that bad in the first place,” he stated, as though it were obvious.

“Fine then, why?”

“To broaden my horizons, of course,” he said cheekily with a wide grin.  When she glared at him he grew serious, “Books always have the answer, yeah?  Thought I’d find a way to win back my ex in one of them.”

There was only one ex Will could have been talking about and she’d done a number on him.  The poems he’d written about her were terrible but the broken heart he’d suffered and lashing out he did was worse.  She was still surprised he hadn’t ended up in jail from the stories he’d told her over the years.

“Ana.”

He nodded solemnly, “This was about a year after she’d ended things.  I’d already started playing with you lot but I was still hurtin’.  Probably didn’t help that we rehearsed across from her new husband’s office.  Used to see her stoppin’ by to see him every few weeks.  Couldn’t escape her, even if I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked softly.

“Why didn’t you tell us about what happened with Jones?” He shot back, though not unkindly.  Shrugging he pushed himself forward and set his elbows on his thighs, his hands dangling between his legs, “Self preservation mostly and, yeah, a bit of enjoyin’ the wallowin’.  Then Belle invited me for a cuppa instead of pressin’ charges.  She’d seen my blusterin’ for what it was because she’d had a bit of a rough go of it herself.  A couple of abusive exes will do that to ya.”

She nodded.  Belle hadn’t told her much about her romantic history but what she’d told Emma was enough.

“Anyway we drank the tea, I sobered up, apologized, and that was it.  I went on my way expecting nothing to come of it but another tale to spin for people over a pint-” the soft look returned, “Then a week later I ended up back at the shop.  When it was open of course.  Looked around a bit, chatted with her and then left.  Kept doin’ that a couple times a week for a month or so before I realized I was stoppin’ by every time I’d seen Ana visitin’ her husband.  Stayed away for two weeks after that.  Belle took it all in stride, of course, welcomed me back with another cuppa and a book of poems.”

Emma smiled, knowing exactly when that was.  He’d suddenly stopped writing his own poems and started reading them instead.  She’d noticed that he’d seemed more settled, less angry, and she’d written a song about it.  Will had demanded a writer’s credit as a result.

“That’s when I realized I was fallin’ for her.  Thing was, I had always believed I’d love Ana forever, even if it meant I spend the rest of my days pinin’ after her like a lovesick fool.  Had a real close look at what I was doin’ with my life.  Only stayed away a week that time and asked Belle out to dinner before the door to her shop had closed behind me when I went back.  She said no.”

“She said no?” Emma gasped, having fully expected a cutesy story of their first date to follow.

Will’s smile was enigmatic, “You see while I was having my little crisis of faith Belle was havin’ one of her own.  All she knew about me was I was a terrible thief who played in a band and had an affinity for poetry.  That was enough for any woman to be wary of trusting me and with the number both of her exes did on her she had no trust left to give.  She wanted to say yes but couldn’t bring herself to put everything on the line if there was even the smallest chance of it shattering beneath her.”

She shifted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze to her hands that were perched in her lap.  Unless Ruby or Regina had blabbed no one else knew exactly what had happened with Killian.  All she’d told Will and Tink was that things hadn’t worked out, end of story.  They hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation and she’d thought that was that.  Clearly she was wrong.

“Does Belle know you’re telling me all this really personal information about her?” She asked accusingly, unable to keep herself from lashing out before he prodded a really vulnerable spot.

“Like I said, luv, she noticed there was somethin’ off with you-” he pointed a finger at her, “and before you go accusin’ me of blabbin’ about you to her I haven’t said a word.  I can be a wanker but I do know how to respect a person’s privacy.”

“Why didn’t she say something?”

He sighed, “You two are friendly but you’re not exactly the sharin’ type are ya?  She didn’t feel it was her place to butt into your life.”

“Oh, but it’s yours?” She asked harshly.

“We’re a horse of a different color, you and I,” he said with a conspiratorial air, “Seein’ as our love of music unites us.”

She smacked him in the arm and he gave her a wink in return.  He wasn’t wrong.  When they first met they got along like oil and water but she’d needed a drummer and he genuinely liked her songs.  It had taken a slew of dive bars and a cramped van to tolerate each other and a little over a year before he was one of the few people she considered a tried and true friend.

“She could have talked to me,” she said petulantly.

“And she still might if this-” he waved his hand between them, “here doesn’t take.  But I haven’t finished my story yet.”

“Sorry,” she said, feeling anything but, “continue.”

“Where was I?” He asked cheekily, chuckling at her glare. “Right, I’d decided to woo Belle and she’d wisely decided to protect her heart.  Let me down gently, of course, my Belle.

“I was a bit disappointed but I also knew why she’d said no.  Stopped goin’ round the shop, thought it’d be best to take a step back.  She didn’t need me hangin’ around makin’ things awkward.  Surprised the hell out of me when a month later she showed up at one of our gigs and asked me to dinner as soon as the set was done.  She said that no one had actually listened to her or respected her decisions before, especially her exes, and that even if she didn’t know much about me she was willin’ to give me a chance.  Celebrated three years back in March.”

“I know, you posted it all over Instagram,” she said with only a hint of the frustration she was feeling, “Is that it?”

“Almost,” he said with a chuckle, “Long story short-”

“Too late,” she muttered.

“Belle knew somethin’ was off with you ��cause she’s been there before and she wanted me to tell you ‘cause she thought I could get you to see what’s in front of your face-” he said with a touch of impatience. “If you broke things off with Jones because he was bloody awful or your personalities didn’t mesh or whatever that’s one thing.  If you did it because you’re scared then that’s somethin’ else.  Okay, now I’m done.”

Emma sat, stunned, as Will stood up and stretched.  He gave the few crew members still clearing the stage a genial wave before offering her his hand.  With a scowl and some reluctance she grabbed it and let him haul her up beside him.  She gave him a wary look, girding herself against more pointed jabs at her emotional expense, but he just spun on his heel and started walking off stage.

“That’s it?!” She called after him, a bit disgruntled.

“I said my piece, luv,” he parried back without turning around. “Besides I’ve my lady love waitin’ for me back at the hotel.  She’s a rare one but I don’t think she’d be too forgivin’ if I spent the whole night with another woman.  Even if it’s you.”

She rushed after him, “You’re not going to try to convince me to call him or… or tell me about how much of a great guy he is or something?”

“I ain’t gonna tell you what to do, luv.  You’re the one that has to decide if you want to keep bein’ miserable or not-” he pulled his phone from his pocket, “I’m orderin’ a Lyft, you wanna ride with?”

“I’ve got a car waiting,” she said absently, still trying to figure out his game.

“Excellent, you got anythin’ you need to grab?” He asked without looking up, tapping away at his phone, “I can wait.”

“No, Ruby grabbed it all for me-” she grabbed his elbow and swung him around to face her, “You’re really not going to say anything else?”

He sighed, “You’ll do what you want and if you actually listened to what I’ve told you then you know there’s nothin’ else I could say.  Now, do you want to stay here until we’re kicked out?”

She looked back across the stage but the magic of the moment was gone.  Now it was just a big empty space with the last of the equipment being rolled out through the wings by the sweaty road crew.

“Fine, let’s go.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet.  Will had clearly said everything he’d wanted to, spending the whole ride furiously texting someone.  For her part she was too pissed off at him while trying desperately not to think too much about what little lesson he’d been trying to get her to understand to say anything remotely close to nice.  When they reached the hotel he stopped her from leaving the car with a hand on her arm.

“One last thing-”

“Really?!” She snapped. “I just want to go up to my room, drink the champagne that I know the label sent, and not think about the emotional vomit you dropped in my lap tonight.”

“It needed to be said,” he stated without a hint of remorse.  Then he squeezed her arm gently and sighed, “Look, I’m gonna send you somethin’ and you need to promise me you’ll look at that first.”

“First?” She asked warily, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.  She’d never taken it off silent and saw that there were way more texts and calls than she’d expected to be there, “What is it?”

“Nothin’ too terrible,” he hedged.

His gaze darted over her shoulder.  When she looked she saw a few paparazzi waiting by flanking the front doors of the hotel.  She turned back to him and saw his jaw ticking.

“Will-”

He ignored her and leaned towards the driver, “Hey, mate, mind pullin’ round the back so we don’t get ambushed?”

“Of course, sir,” the driver said with a nod, immediately pulling away from the curb.

“Will,” she put every ounce of frustration she could into his name.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said absently, back to tapping madly on his phone, “And you know what, don’t look at it until you’re in your room.  Can you do that?”

Just as she was about to grab the hand that was on her arm and twist it until bones cracked the car stopped again.  Looking outside she saw they were at some kind of loading dock and one of the doors was propped open.

“Brilliant,” Will said happily.  He let go of her and fished in his pocket, pulling out a couple of bills that he handed to the driver, “Cheers, mate!”

“Thank you, sir,” the driver said with a nod.  He caught her gaze in the rear view mirror, “Ma’am.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly.  Will was already out of the car and she scrambled out after him, “Wait, you can’t be all cryptic and then just leave me like that.  What the hell is going on?”

“I know you want to punch me in the face-” he squinted his eyes at her, “Nope, you’re ready to murder me on the spot.  Just trust me, luv.  Besides, it wouldn’t do to make a scene out here and bring ‘round those vultures we made a point of avoiding.”

“Fine,” she huffed, pushing past him. “But you’re so on my shit list right now.”

“I’m always on it, luv,” he said with a laugh.

The hotel was five star but the door that had been left open led to a not so pretty hallway.  She’d worked plenty of shitty jobs to know what a service corridor looked like.  There were several stacks of empty milk crates and egg cages lining the walls and from the delicious smells wafting towards her it wasn’t hard to figure out that they were near the kitchens.  She turned back and gave Will an unimpressed look.

“It was this or the paps,” he said unapologetically.  He pointed ahead of them, “That way and then the second right will get you to the lobby.”

“And where are you going?” She asked suspiciously.

“Got a mate that’s holdin’ a bottle of champagne for me that way-” he hitched his thumb to the left. “I’ll let him know you said thanks for sneakin’ you past those vultures.”

He strolled past her, with his hands in his pockets, whistling the damn Backstreet Boys song he’d been singing earlier.  She was torn between wanting to strangle him or begrudgingly thank him.  In the end she settled for glaring at his back and muttering obscenities until he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight.

Twenty minutes later she was finally holed up in her room, freshly showered and wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes with the bottle of champagne in her hand.  All should have been well except for the litany of messages she had.  Will’s wasn’t the most recent and she would have ignored it if he hadn’t said anything but she had a feeling that whatever he had sent her was the reason behind all the other texts and calls.  Her thumb hovered over his message, calculating how much it was going to ruin her night if she ignored it, before she scoffed at herself and tapped on it.

Scarlet: whatever you do don’t kill the messenger ie me

There was a second message, which was a link to YouTube.  She hesitated again, even more so with his ominous message.  When she tapped on the link she felt a momentary flash of panic, nearly closing out the app, because she knew without a doubt that watching the video was going to destroy any semblance of finishing off the night on a high note.

Her panic quickly turned into longing and heartbreak at the sight of Killian on her phone screen.  He was sitting with his guitar in a room she’d never seen before but knew without a doubt was from his place in Boston.  If pressed she wouldn’t have been able to explain how she knew but from the small bits of decor she could make out in the background and his sense of ease in the space were big clues.  Her attention was drawn back to him as he cleared his throat and addressed the camera.

“Er, hello all,” he began sheepishly, his fingers nervously scratching behind his ear as the tips of his ears turned pink.  His hair was in disarray and there were slight shadows under his eyes but he looked good, she would have even said great if there had been anyone around to ask her.  He gave a rueful smile, “I’ve never done one of these, honestly never thought I would seeing as I seemed to have missed the metaphorical boat with this whole video blogging thing-”

Emma snorted in amusement despite herself and muttered, “It’s like he’s three hundred not thirty-three.”

“Aye, I may be belying my age but as you can see I’ve retained my youthful glow,” he said with a cheeky grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

The quip seemed to bolster him, the tension in his shoulders disappeared and he seemed to breathe easier, but it only lasted for a moment.  His smile faded and he dropped his chin, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath.  When he looked back to the camera the look in his eyes made her own breath catch in her throat.

“As many of my fans-” he paused and then gave a mirthless laugh, shaking his head, “Well, let’s be honest, a lot more than just my fans know my story.  My exploits, my tragedies, missteps and extended stays in rehab are just cannon fodder for the gossip mongers that dwell on the internet.  All of that led to my taking a much needed step back from the spotlight that’s lasted a good while.  In that time I’ve continued to play, the creative soul in me would never stand for me not to, but I never thought I’d put pen to paper with the intention of writing a song ever again.

“The accident, yes that fucking accident, took more from me than just my brother and my love that night.  It took the part of me that knew the right words to tease the desired emotion from an audience, how to hook them with a few notes and reel them in with lyrics that sprung from my heart and soul.  Without that-” his voice cracked and he paused again, closing his eyes.  After a few deep breaths he opened them, looking straight into the camera, his pain bare to see, “Without that it’s a wonder I didn’t drink myself to death within six months.”

Her phone screen went blurry and it wasn’t until a drop of water fell onto her hand that she realized she was crying.  Impatiently brushing away the tears she focused back on the video.

He had begun idly picking at the strings of the guitar, “Getting sober was the first step to getting my life back.  One of many.  It’s been a hard road and every day is a struggle in one way or another but it’s a battle I’m willing to fight.  My life, quite literally, depends on it.  Next was getting serious about playing music again.  I’ve spent the past few years not doing much more than recording backing tracks for what seems like every artist under the sun.  I was in a rut and my agent convinced me that it was a sign that it was time to return to the recording booth.  This time as the headliner, as it were.  With no true argument against it I agreed, thinking that if anything I would enjoy a middling solo career out of it.  What I hadn’t counted on was it leading to something that would turn my middling life upside down in the most unexpected of ways.

“You see, I had thought that I would be hoisted off on a producer and bundled to a cabin to write as many songs as possible before being shepherded back to a recording booth.  Handled but not inspired.  Before that could happen, though, another much more appealing opportunity presented itself..  A friend called needing a favor.  One that my agent and the label approved of, though I would have done it regardless”

His finger picking continued as a wistful smile played at his lips.  She couldn’t figure out what he was playing.  It seemed somewhat familiar but his playing was too slow for her to catch the tune.

“In doing this favor I met someone-” he focused on the camera and gave a slight shake of his head, “You know, I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah... to believe that I could find someone else... until I met her.”

Emma nearly dropped her phone in shock.

“For the first time since I thought I’d lost everything I felt like there was a possibility for me to find it all again.  I found myself wanting- no, needing, to write again.  I think I filled the first notebook within a week.  She inspired me in a way I hadn’t been before.  Then, I was privileged enough to become a part of her life.

“Unfortunately even before we met I had decided that there was no need to share with her what was to be a fairly big change in my life.  I figured, why tell her about making a return to music when I hadn’t truly wanted it to happen in the first place?” he scoffed.  He stopped playing, clenching his hand into a fist, “It was a selfish decision on my part, wanting to bask in the simplicity of what we had for as long as possible before I had to give myself over to the machinations of creating an album.  What I failed so spectacularly at was considering her feelings, her expectations and hopes as to what we could be.  By omitting that truth from the beginning and trying to shield her from it, even believing that I was doing the honorable thing, hurt her far more than telling her from the start.”

She could see the frustration and self loathing in his gaze.  It made her want to soothe him and shake him at the same time.

He blinked, seemingly remembering that he was being filmed and gave a brittle smile to the camera, “It should come as no surprise that it all came ‘round to bite me in the arse.  I’ll admit that I spent a good amount of time as the living embodiment of a Morrisey album.  Listened to a few of them ad nauseum to boot.  It took a good friend knocking some sense into me and a few words of advice Liam had given me long ago: ‘A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets’.

“I deserve every second of her silence, every ounce of her anger, and I will respect her decision regarding us, whatever it may be, but I have one final plea to make.  She may never see this, the bloody idiot that told me to do this will also be editing this and might cut this all out, but I’ve laid myself bare so that she perhaps might come to understand why I’d done the things that hurt her so.

“Sw-” he cut himself off, looking down as his jaw ticked in frustration before he took a breath and looked back to the camera, his gaze sincere and open, “Love, I’m sorry for lying to you.  I’m sorry for making you feel used and unimportant and as though you were dupe in a scheme designed to benefit everyone but yourself.  It was never my intention to make you feel that way but my actions and my lies did so all the same.  I’m sorry, love, for everything.”

Her tears were falling freely but she made no move to brush them away.  They were too quick and numerous for her to bother.  In the video Killian had started playing his guitar again, his fingers plucking out the notes of a tune she still couldn’t place but that he seemed to know very well.

“I wrote this after an eye opening night in Chicago.  This is my truth, love, it was then and it is now.”

With that he began to play in earnest.  She could hear echoes of the songs he’d written with Milah and Liam, a distinctive style that even the chasm of a decade couldn’t erase.  There was something more to it though, a longing in his voice she’d never heard before but it was far from melancholic, she could almost feel a wellspring of hope bubbling within it.  Then she actually listened to the lyrics he was singing.

And all of the steps that led me to you

And all of the hell I had to walk through

But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say

My love, I'm in love with you

The phone tumbled from Emma’s suddenly numb fingers.  The video kept playing but the audio was muffled in the folds of her robe.  Scrambling to pick it back up and muttering curses while desperately trying to hear the rest of the song she fumbled with the phone for what felt like minutes before it was back in her hand and facing the right way.  With a shaking finger she scrolled back until the point where he started to play and began watching again.  When he played the final note she scrolled back and watched it again.  After the fourth time she let the video keep playing, though she could barely focus on it through the sobs she was holding back.

Killian gave the camera a pained smile, his hands folded over his guitar.  He seemed on the verge of saying something and she held her breath.  Instead he shook his head and leaned forward, reaching towards the camera.  The video ended there, an emotionless black screen with links to a few of the more popular music videos that Realm of Jewels had made.  Emma sat staring at the thumbnails in a stupor, her mind whirring with too many thoughts to even begin to process what she was feeling.  It was only when her screen went dark from inactivity that she made a decision.  Unlocking her phone she brought up her contacts and tapped on the name of the person she’d been avoiding talking to for days.  They picked up on the second ring.

“I know it’s late but I need a favor.”

[fullmarvelheart]

Wakanda

Pairing: Avengers x Enhanced!OFC

Word Count: 3,000

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of past trama

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 5 of Blue Starlight. I hope you all enjoy the story as well as the way I wrote the characters! The gif is not my own. All rights to the original creator. I hope you guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

The plane lands and I'm almost blinded by the bright sunlight that reflects in off the tarmac as the ramp is lowered down.

Waiting for us is whom I'm assuming is the King, based on what Cap briefed us over, along with his personal guards. When Cap told us about the Dora Milaje, to say I was impressed is a gross understatement. I knew they were the fiercest warriors in Wakanda but seeing them up close, they're almost as intimidating as Natasha is. Even the Kingsguard looks exceptionally deadly.

"Should we bow?" Banner asks Rhodey as they exit the jet before me.

"Yeah, he's a king." Rhodey responds in an almost serious tone. Which apparently Banner doesn't catch onto.

As the Captain greets King T'Challa, Banner clears his throat and starts to bow.

"What are you doing?" Rhodey questions loudly enough to catch the King's attention.

"Uh, we- we don't do that here." The King says, somewhat awkwardly.

I chuckle to myself as the group begins to walk.

"So how big of an assault should we expect?" I go to answer the king but am cut off.

"Uh sir-sir, I think you should expect quite a big assault." Banner says pushing his way to the front while I roll my eyes.

Shut up. You don't even have the slightest idea.

"Thanos will most likely send one of his support ships, like the one that was in New York not too long ago. He calls them Q-Ships. He won't send his full army here, just what is deemed to be enough to overwhelm the forces on Earth, so the stone can be retrieved." I explain loudly but lower my voice as I get closer to the King, who looks at me curiously.

"How are we looking?" Natasha asks softly, diverting attention away from me, thankfully.

"You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and..."

"A semi-stable 100-year-old man." A new voice says walking up to us.

I take in a sharp breath and freeze. The Winter Soldier. Please don't let him still be with HYDRA! That's not something else I want to deal with today. But, he's smiling and doesn't look anything like the last time I saw him. He's not glaring at anything and he has plenty of emotions that I notice, just with one glance. He outwardly looks happy, healthy, but I can see pain and guilt still present in his steel blue eyes.

I can see it because I recognize it in myself.

As both Cap and him share a friendly embrace, I see Sam move into my periphery, though I don't acknowledge him.

"Are you alright?" He asks in a whisper.

I blink out of my frozen state and give him a tight smile and nod. As I'm turning back around, I see Natasha give me a curious look before turning back towards the Captain.

"How you been Buck?"

"Uh, not bad, for the end of the world." He says solemnly, yet with a small smile

I swear, this is the most I've ever heard him speak in one go. His voice isn't raspy from misuse anymore either. Maybe he's-

As if he can feel my eyes burning holes into the side of his head, he turns to face me. His eyes widen in recognition as his face changes from shock, to confusion, to anger, to regret, and then suspicion, all within a second.

"It's good to see you again, Blue." He says skeptically.

"You too, Soldier." I say in the same tone, brushing my fingertips over the hilt of a dagger on my thigh.

He glances down, catching my movements which freeze immediately.

"You remember...?" I ask softly, not knowing if I need the confirmation for his sake,... or mine.

"I remember everything." His piercing gaze moves back to me, his features stiff and cautious, waiting for me to make a move.

"Blue?" Natasha inquires, trying to lessen the tension.

"My ability..." My explanation comes out more timid than I would like as I move my hand away from the blade and give her a shrug.

Come on! Surely he's not more terrifying than Thanos! At least this one I know I can stop.

"There won't be any problems, right?" Cap asks seriously, after clearing his throat.

The Winter Soldier, or Buck I guess, says no. I can only shake my head.

"Good. Coms on and Rhodey, suit up. Saddie, I want you out here while we go in with Vision, incase anything happens." I nod in understanding as he, Natasha, and Dr. Banner follow the King and his men inside where Wanda and Vision had disappeared earlier.

I watch them trek inside while a knot forms in my stomach.

"You're nervous."

"Huh?" I turn to find Buck staring at me curiously.

"You used to make that face whenever the men were in the room. Whenever he was in the room." He explains.

I sigh and wrap my arms around my stomach while letting my head hang over.

"Can you blame me? This whole situation is something I was hoping to avoid. Plus, I wasn't exactly expecting to see you and when I did... I didn't know what would happen, or what to expect." I keep my gaze fixated on the pavement below me as I hear him take in a deep breath. Though, I know he was thinking the same thing as I was. "But I'm terrified. Like I was then." I admit with a whisper, looking up at him.

He hums, walking closer to me.

"What should I call you?" I ask suddenly causing him to snap his eyes to mine and stop.

He hesitates looking at the ground before back at me.

"Bucky please, Saddie." He says teasingly.

I roll my eyes but crack a small smile. So Buck is a nickname then. Didn't know he knew the Captain that way...

"Your arm is different." I note as I look at the black metal appendage edged with gold markings. Much different from the previous silver one with the infamous red star.

He hums thoughtfully, looking down at it with a small nervous smile.

"I like it, it suits you." I tell him sincerely as I turn away from him, not waiting for his reaction.

I walk over to Sam and begin to talk to him while Bucky joins us with a rifle one of the Kingsguard gave to him. Rhodey appears in his armor and things begin to click in my head as I remember Sam and Rhodey's hero names. Falcon and War Machine. Definitely not who I'd expect to be next to at a time like this.

At one point, I decide to sit crisscross on the tarmac with my fingertips pressed into the pavement and my eyes closed. It's almost like I'm in a meditative state. I feel the energy running through this city, running under it. There's an endless supply far below me, that I manage to tap into.

It's immensely powerful!

"What ya doing there, Saddie?" Sam calls out. I realize there's probably blue wisps circling around my hands or even arms.

"Recharging and resting." I say, distantly.

"Meditating." Bucky answers at the same time, causing me to huff and send him, where I think he is, a playful glare.

"Are you already tired, kid?" Rhodey jabs humorously through the ear piece.

"I'm a creature that relies on energy for power. If my stored supply runs out and I can't tap into a source fast enough, I have to rely on the power my body holds. Meaning, I'd lose consciousness soon after I'd start pulling from my own life-force. Thanos has an army coming for Earth, and I want as much power as I can hold." I tell them, still in my meditative state. "Plus, relaxing like this allows me to extend my powers beyond Earth."

"Creature?" Sam mumbles in question to himself.

"What does that mean?" Bucky asks curiously in reference to my abilities while talking over Sam. He still doesn't know the full extent.

"It means that I can sense when they arrive." I tell them, ignoring Sam's notice of my slip. Though, with that and what I said in the aircraft, he should be piecing it together soon, if he allows his mind to focus on it.

They don't ask anymore questions after that, and leave me to myself. After what feels like several minutes later, I feel a very strong hum of power moving towards Earth, and quickly. I call my power back to me and absorb as much of the energy as I can from below me, I can see the bright blue growing brighter from behind my eyelids.

"Saddie?" Bucky sounds worried.

My eyes shoot open as I jump to my feet, looking towards the sky.

"Saddie!" Sam calls, trying to get my attention.

"They're here." I say fearfully, not moving my eyes.

I summon an energy ball as I see one of their ships quickly descending straight for us.

"Hey, Cap, we got a situation here." Sam says while looking to where I am.

That wasn't enough time to get the stone out safely!

I prepare to launch the ball in my hands when the dropship pings off the shield, exploding instantly. The force of the strike is absorbed back into the shield.

"God, I love this place." Bucky says in stark amusement while I reabsorb the power in my hand.

"Yeah, don't start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome." Rhodey warns as the rest fall fast, impacting the Earth.

I feel the vibrations from the impact rattling though my bones and my breathing becomes harsher. The shockwaves bounce off the dome, making me feel only the tiniest bit safer.

"Is this what you were expecting?" Sam asks, looking at me.

I nod slowly with wide and fearful eyes, unable to speak. Though, how do you speak when one of your worst nightmares is occurring before your very eyes and is becoming reality?

Alarms blare through the city and the dread I have been feeling for some time now, grows in the pit of my stomach to the point it becomes nauseating. Unfortunately for me, I joined this fight, so I can't back out now. I swallow back whatever fear I can and focus on the chaos around me.

After several minutes, the Captain, Natasha, Dr. Banner, King T'Challa, and his warriors come running out of where they led Vision and Wanda. Dr. Banner goes straight to where a big red and gold suit had been laid out as warriors rush out to the tarmac.

"You two," Nat gestures to me and Bucky. "Come with me."

We chase after her into a transport ship that is filling up with other warriors of the Kingsguard. I see Cap and T'Challa board theirs with half of the Dora Milaje. When we get in, Natasha stands up front with Bucky right behind her, and me on his right, like it used to be. As much as I hate the memories, the familiarity of a fight and his presence is comforting.

Sam and Rhodey take off and fly above us as we all head towards the front line while we begin to merge with other ships on the way.

"How we looking, Bruce?" Natasha asks through the coms.

"Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of it." I hear what sounds like rockets through my ear piece and cringe at the loudness "Wow! This is amazing man. It's like being the Hulk without actually..." His loud enthusiastic voice is cut short as I hear him fall.

I try to stop myself from giggling at him but can't help but slightly laugh out loud when I hear Bucky's chuckles beside me.

"I'm ok, I'm ok." I hear, but before I smile again, I actually notice just how many of the dropships there are... and just how big they look from here. I've never seen them in person, just heard stories.

My stomach lurches at the sight. There will be so many. Can we even win this?

"I've got two heat signatures breaking through the tree line." Rhodey calls out.

I move forward slightly, in hopes of recognizing which two of the puppets Thanos sent here. Bucky gently grabs my arm, snapping me out of my head, and gives me a questioning look. I move back to his side but keep my eyes set on the edge of the dome in front of me, not looking at Bucky. I'm not sure if I'd be able to hide my fear if I do. Rhodey and Sam do a fly over as they begin to circle back around.

The Captain, King T'Challa, and the Dora Milaje pile out of a transport. My transport group follows and Natasha, Bucky, and I merge with them. One of the legions begins to chant as we move forward. Though I can't distinguish the words over the sound of my blood pumping in my ears. Natasha comes up next to me and gives me a small assuring smile. I try my best to do the same, though I'm sure it's more of a grimace. We form a line and I finally spot the two of the Black Order that Thanos sent. I scowl and clench my fists at the sight and memory of those two.

"Do you think there's any chance of surrender?" Natasha muses.

"No, it's not the way of the Black Order." I say with a slight growl.

"Well, there's always a chance." Captain says, but it's not reassuring.

He looks at me and motions for me to follow as him, Natasha, and King T'Challa start to walk in the direction of the dome's edge. I swallow the lump in my throat and proceed to fall into line with them.

Cull Obsidian and Proxima Midnight become clearer the closer we move to them, and I try to push back my fear again. While Cull stands several feet tall than the other, with a much broader stance and deadlier appearing body and weapon, it's Proxima I fear the most. This sight of the midnight blue and black hair, brown horns, black and blue war paint, and lifeless grey eyes that make me tremble slightly. Proxima drags her sword along the dome's edge, almost hypnotized by it, watching the power crackle along her blade. She finally stops when we're at the edge, only separated by the dome.

Cull and Proxima snarl once they set their eyes on me and my lip twitches up in annoyance.

"Where's your other friend?" Natasha quips, and I have no idea which other one she's referring to.

"You will pay for his life with yours." Proxima says in the most emotionless tone I've heard her use. Her mechanical voice sends an unpleasant shiver down my spine. "Thanos will have that stone." She moves closer, as to intimidate. But so do I.

"That's not going to happen." Captain says, seemingly unbothered but determined.

"I will make sure of it." I growl.

Proxima directs her gaze to me.

"The traitor... or at least, one of them." She muses, a gleam flashes in those deadly eyes as she smirks at me. "You are nothing without your other half. A child in regards to your abilities. Weak." I know she's trying to get a rise out of me, I know it, but it's working.

Her words stroke the grief and self-doubt I had buried for this fight, making it rear it's ugly head. Before I get the chance to even move, King T'Challa speaks as Natasha moves me back.

"You are in Wakanda now. Thanos will have nothing but dust and blood." I look at the King with wide eyes, knowing he doesn't realize just who the Mad Titan is.

"We have blood to spare." Proxima states before striking her sword up into the air.

I scowl at her, but that falls into a frown when the drop ships begin to whirl and extend. We quickly make our way back to the frontlines.

"Are you ok?" Natasha asks as me move back towards the group.

"No, not really. But I'll be able to fight." I tell her, gathering what courage I can. She gives me a hesitant nod, but says nothing else. "I really hate her." I grumble, which earns me a small chuckle from Nat

I try to clear my mind and focus on my powers on the rest of the way back. I focus on what I feel, where it is, and how I can use that to my advantage, like I was taught. We get back to our forces as Bucky looks on edge but doesn't look away from the ships.

"They surrender?" He asks sardonically, knowing the answer.

"Not exactly." Captain breathes as I move to Natasha's side.

I feel the ship release the army that lurches inside.

"Here we go." I nervously breathe.

Falcon flies along the edge, circling as a scout, but I can already feel the pounding of their sharp and deadly paws vibrating against the ground. As they get closer, the thunderous pounding reaches my ears over the sound of my own heartbeat. I absorb the little bits of kinetic energy from them as they run. I feel Natasha's stare on my loose fingers which begin to glow a slight blue.

King T'Challa begins a battle chant as I feel the army slow at the edge of the tree line. Proxima strikes her sword down, letting it fall out of the air, and the army begins their charge forwards. There's more of them, more than I imagined. And they spill out of the tree line like a tidal wave of death, charging towards the dome.

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 9a

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Originally posted on my Ao3 Crystallclover (If you can’t find it here)

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7a | 7b | 8 | 9b

I really enjoy everyone’s feedback. It makes my day to know you all are enjoying this story so far. There is still a lot planned for the future. I said this is slow-burn, it is don’t worry. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Chapter 9: Packing Up

Summary: “Your theory about possibly being matched with aliens? Well, he isn’t exactly an alien, he is a part of the First Order. When they found out who I was matched to I was immediately escorted here.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You were alone for a moment, you swore you could almost hear Kylo talking to the general on the other side of the door. He sounded harsh. You hear his footsteps walk further down the hall.

The door opens and the general walks in with the tree junior officers trailing him. He stepped back and let the junior officers quickly clean up your and Kylo’s lunch. “The Supreme Leader has made me in charge of your safety. He also said I am to take you where ever you would like to go.”

You nodded. Just now you realized you never messaged Hayden or Carter that you had been escorted, in fact, you had yet to check your phone.

You pulled it out of your back pocket and saw that you had 30 messages from Carter and Hayden and 15 missed calls. They were all asking where you were, if something happened, if you were all right and if you were being interrogated.

You decided to call Carter. “Excuse me, General, I need to make a phone call.”

He nodded and stepped out of the room leaving you alone. You dialed Carter’s phone number, it rang twice before they picked up.

“Oh my god Y/N! Are you all alright? We have been trying to get a hold of you for hours now,” their voice was laced heavily with concern.

“I know. I’m alright, everything is fine. Actually, it’s better than fine, but I don’t know if this is how I want to explain it. I’m safe, I’m in Washington D.C.”

“Wait I’ll put you on speaker. You will explain everything,” you heard Carter switch the phone to speaker. And heard Hayden clear his throat.

“Hayden, you were right,” you said with a light chuckle.

“Sweet! Wait right about what,” he asked not remembering.

“Your theory about possibly being matched with aliens? Well, he isn’t exactly an alien, he is a part of the First Order. When they found out who I was matched to I was immediately escorted here,” you paused second guessing if you should reveal who Kylo is. “He is a high ranking officer, so it looks like I’ll be joining them.”

“Wow, Y/N we are so happy for you. I’m guessing you’ll probably leave when they do. Are you coming home tonight?” Asked Carter.

“He said I’ll be joining him on the ship tonight and that I will be able to come back down tomorrow,” You glanced at your watch. 3:30 PM, the suttle ride itself only took an hour and a half to get you from Toronto to D.C. You should have enough time to go back grab some things and be back in time for the nightly public First Order address. “I know you guys have more questions but I have to go.”

“Bye, be safe my dude,” said Hayden.

“You know we love you and want you to be happy, just call us when you can,” said Carter.

“I know and I love you guys too,” and with that, you said your goodbyes and you ended the call.

Unsure of what to do you walked over to the door opened it and stuck your head out. You could see the general down the hallway talking to some other First Order officers and people whom you assumed to be White House staff. You called to him, “General?”

He turned and started walking towards you. You now exited the room. “Yes,” he asked.

“Your orders were to take me anywhere that I would like to go, correct,” you asked.

“Correct, I am assuming you have made a choice,” he responded.

“I was wondering if I could take a shuttle back to Toronto to gather some of my things? I’m hoping to return before the nightly public address.”

“That can be arranged,” with that he looked over his shoulder to one of the junior officers who left immediately to make the arrangement. “Of course because I have been tasked personally with your safety I will have to escort you.” And with that, the junior was back and informed the general that there was a shuttle ready. He nodded and they excused themselves. He gestured for you to once again follow him and you were off to the shuttle.

You exited the White House and were once again aboard the shuttle, “This is a Xi-class light shuttle. It is mostly used for ferrying on planet surfaces and transporting freight. Not, that I expect that you will remember this right now, but if you are to be Supreme Leader’s consort then you will be expected to know these things.”

You looked at the general slightly shocked. This wasn’t something you had thought deeply about. You were now about to literally give up your whole, albeit boring, life for a man who was in charge of a military regime. You didn’t want to be in the spotlight. You just wanted to be loved and to love.

Both of you buckled in facing each other, “Would you like me to prepare some education videos for you? You have much more to learn than the average First Order planet citizen,” he said while working on a datapad.

You just nodded your head and he handed one to you, “This video is outdated but contains lots of good information and background knowledge for you,” responded the general.

He pulled up a video titled “First Order” by The Templin Institute. This one was much shorter and was just under ten minutes. This video gave you an idea as to who the man Kylo killed in order to receive the Supreme Leader position. It also gave you more information as to how the First Order came to be. When you glanced up after finishing the video the general used his datapad to send you another.

This time it was a speech given by the general himself from Starkiller base, “The First Order: Last day fo the Republic.” The video was intimidatingly impressive, it was similar to the speech he gave yesterday, but this time it caused the destruction of an entire star system, the New Republic’s capital.

“What did you think,” he asks as you can see the smug look on his face.

“It was intimidatingly impressive. An entire system gone in a matter of minutes.”

He was pleased with your answer as he sent you a news release from the First Order. “The Voice of the First Order: Issue 23.” Ironically the first one being about propaganda, avoiding Resistance and the New Republic propaganda and where a First Order citizen my uncover the truth.

Lastly, he sent you a bunch of articles talking about the different transport ships that were standard issue within the First Order.

The pilot spoke to the general informing him of the arrival back at the registration station. You handed the general back the data pad. You both unbuckled and stood to exit the shuttle.

“General, if you don’t mind I need to take my car back to my apartment to get my things,” you said to him.

“Yes, one of the ancient wheeled vehicles. I suppose we will have to return it. How many passengers can you fit,” he asked almost disgusted by the idea of having to ride in a car.

“Not including the driver I can technically seat 4, but only three comfortably as it is a sedan,” you replied.

“This will probably be the only time you will be allowed to drive one of those death machines again, but we will take three troopers with us for protection,” he said. And the thought of never driving again made you sad and curious as to see what freedoms you would be allowed. The general ordered three troopers to escort you two your car. “We will have the shuttle pick us up from your apartment to make things easier upon departure.”

With that, you got into your car. The general still seemed to be disgusted with it, even though it was clean. The three troopers struggled to sit in the back as they were too large for the seat. Once everyone was settled and buckled you were on your way to your apartment. It was not a long drive and for once all of the lights were green when you got to them.

Parking in your ramp you all got out of your car and approached your building's elevator. The troopers were making sweeps of the area and the general followed confidently behind them and all of them behind you. The elevator ride is awkward, even more so than the car ride. You reach your floor and you unlock your do, but be for you enter one of the stormtroopers moves you out of the way. They enter and sweep your tiny apartment.

You moved to follow them in as did the general. “I thought the people of your planet were supposed to have large dwellings,” he said commenting on your small apartment.

This made you a bit ticked off, and the fact that they were all wearing shoes inside and tracking dirt in. “Why would I need a larger apartment when I live alone?”

The general just hummed in response. You went to your closet and gathered your duffle bag and your backpack. You began packing all of your clothes and your toiletries knowing this could be one of the last times you would be back at your apartment. Packing didn’t take very long. You grabbed your work tote and filled it with your laptop, planner, notebooks, and chargers. You also grabbed your favorite coffee to-go cup and water bottle. It only took about 15 minutes to pack everything. “Is there anything I can get you? I have water, tea, coffee, and various fruit and snacks.”

The general shook his head in response and the troopers gave no sign of acknowledgment. And with that, your life was packed and ready to be moved again.

“This is everything I need, we should be able to go now.”

The general nodded to the troopers and you made your way down to the main entrance of your apartment building. Once again you boarded the shuttle.

[storiesbyjes2g]

Genetics & Story Summary

Genetics

Even though we all know Melany looks nothing like Kameron, she doesn’t look exactly like Brytani either. Like, most of the time, I don’t feel like I’m looking at a younger Brytani. But they look so much alike I can’t tell what the differences are. Last night I decided to find out how they are different. I found Brytani in another save and aged her down. I aged Kameron down and took off his beard and skin details so we can really see him. I also took away Mel’s details even though they don’t change her much. I made a picture with them all side-by-side to compare.

How about I never really realized Melany had a dimpled chin! And, how cool is it to learn Kameron gave it to her! (I feel like she should write a song about him called Dimpled Chin lol) I’m guessing her cheeks come from him because Noemi also has high, cute chubby cheeks as well. Mel’s face seems to be a little longer than Brytani’s, also compliments of Kameron, but I knew that one already. There is something about their eyes though. I can’t really tell what it is, but they are not the same. Are Brytani’s wider or something?

As far as skin tone goes, Mel is right in the middle, a shade darker than Brytani and a shade lighter than Kameron. I still think it’s funny how EA measures what is light and dark, but we won’t get into that in this post...or maybe ever lol.

Story Summary

This may get long, so I’ll put it under the cut.

Recently I welcomed my new followers and told you about my story. I appreciate everyone who has hopped on for the ride! 😘 So many of you have joined in on this silly little legacy drama, and I don’t want anyone to be lost. I’m going to catch you up so you know who everyone is and what’s going on because I don’t expect you to go back to the beginning, although it doesn’t take very long. I did that a few months ago. It was fun!

Ok! So you’ve met Melany and her parents. Kameron started this whole thing as my guy to save Strangerville. Afterward, I figured I would continue playing with him and give him a much deserved good life. He had the world famous celebrity aspiration, so he started hanging out in DSV and rubbing shoulders with celebrities. That’s how he met Brytani Cho and thus creating our dear, sweet Melany. But, Brytani is not about that relationship life, and things fizzled after he attempted to propose to her.

It didn’t take long for her to leave. Bye Felicia.

Kameron and Melany left Strangerville for a new life in Oasis Springs. He joined the intelligence branch of the military and moved up the ranks. It was tough being a single dad, but he made it work.

Brytani was hyper-focused on her career and made very little time for Melany, and Kameron held that against her. Needless to say, their relationship was never the same, and co-parenting was no walk in the park. Melany, however, attempted to make the best of her mother’s visits, though she wished she visited more often.

Eventually Kameron moved on completely and began dating. He had a few flings and a few dates, but when he met Nadia, he was like a moth to flame.

They messed around a lot, and it didn’t take long for him to ask her to be his girlfriend. They dated for a while before he asked her to move in. He needed to see how things would work with her and Melany. It delighted Kameron to see how well they took to each other. I mean, Melany was an exceptional kid. Who wouldn’t love her? Nadia did and took her role in Kameron and Melany’s lives very seriously once she understood the family dynamics.

Nadia’s pregnancy and the engagement happened around the same time. They had a son named Nathaniel Courtney Pierson, whom they call Nate. Life was very busy with a new baby, new house, and new city (Willow Creek). Once life settled down a little, they were married in Sulani.

It should be noted that Melany began playing the violin at a young age. Kameron took her to El Selvadorada once, and it rained almost the whole time. She was going through a loud phase and picked up the violin; she loved it. She completed all 5 child aspirations which gave her a boost at learning adult skills. By the time she was a teenager, she had maxed the violin skill and had written her first song! She also started a SimTube channel. Between her two celebrity parents and the videos, she was a 4 star celebrity by her teen birthday.

Teen life for Melany was pretty average—aside from the celebrity madness. She had a group of friends she loved. She was on top of her studies and made A’s. She didn’t give her parents any trouble.The only complaint she has was with her mother. Brytani retired and came around more often, but still not often enough. By this time, Melany’s little sister, Noemi Amiah Pierson, was born, and she saw what she missed by not having two parents in the same house. Nadia was an excellent step-mother. Melany didn’t want for anything, and she loved and appreciated her. But she had a mother. Why couldn’t Brytani be like Nadia? Was something wrong with her? Did Brytani love her at all? She was secretly jealous of her young siblings, and those feelings ate away at her. She became withdrawn, cried a lot and made angry videos, but it didn’t help. Brytani was still a deadbeat mom. Melany expressed her frustrations once, but Brytani couldn’t make her feel better. She wasn’t the motherly type and thought Melany would be fine with Nadia not realizing the girl just needed her mom.

Things got slightly better in their relationship, but this would always be a thing between them. Even now, long after Brytani’s death, Melany still feels conflicted about their relationship.

The Piersons moved to Sulani. Melany aged up and went to Britechester University to study Fine Arts. She stayed in the dorms her first semester and had two roommates. That’s how she met her current best friend, Dr. Anissa Thurston. She studied biology and felt a connection with Melany immediately. Being a popular celebrity, Anissa knew everyone would be all over her and act weird. She just saw a fellow freshman nervous about being in a new place and hoping everything would be ok and made it her business to befriend Melany. Little did she know their shared Bailey Kay fandom would create a near indestructible bond.

Like any overprotective father, Kameron struggled with Melany going to college. He wanted her to stay at home for the first semester. And, as one could imagine, he was not ready for boys. Luckily, he made a friend in an elderly gentleman named Myron Churchill. He never had an older friend who could advise him from experience—a father figure. Mr. Churchill’s friendship became precious to him and helped a great deal.

Melany met Nick Wilkinson at a party. She felt uncomfortable about the outfit her friend made her wear on top of everyone looking at and whispering about her being a celebrity and all. Nick approached her and started a conversation. He made her feel better and was terribly cute. All they did was talk, but he definitely left an impression on her.

Brytani died, and Melany withdrew from school for the rest of the year. Nick called to see how she was and to express his condolences, and that’s how their friendship began. He was a huge movie buff and studying drama at Foxbury Institute to become an actor. He also was a huge nerd and avid gamer. Melany is also a gamer as Kameron was a gamer geek and raised her on video games and sci-fi. They were “friends” for a long time before he asked her out. After dancing around each other for so long, it didn’t take long for them to begin an official relationship.

They graduated, and Melany goes back home to Sulani to figure out the rest of her life. At this point she had written and licensed 7 songs and had a few small performances. She loved performing but wasn’t sure if she wanted to be a full blown artist like her idol, Bailey Kay. Also, up until this point she had only been a musician. Few know this, but Melany is also a singer. She keeps it private, but the girl is talented. Despite this talent, she never considered being a singer or writing lyrics to her songs. But sometimes she hears words in her head. They repeat themselves and won’t go away, so she began writing them down. After having this experience a few times, she felt her music life changing and needed professional advice and reached out to Bailey Kay (after much coaxing from friends and family) who gave her some wise words.

Eventually, Melany decided to live in Brytani’s mansion in Willow Creek which she inherited. The thought of living there used to give her pause, but she wanted to be closer to Nick and her friends because traveling from Sulani to San Myshuno and Del Sol Valley was getting to be too much. Besides, she was a grown woman now and needed to get on with her life. Also, she felt like she caused the problems Kameron and Nadia had briefly in their marriage. She invited Anissa to live there as her roommate because she didn’t want to live alone and wasn’t ready to have Nick move in yet. But, soon after, he approached her about the idea and she agreed it was an excellent idea.

That’s pretty much where we are now. Melany and Nick are living their best lives together. Nick is a dynamic actor and getting more popular by the day. Anissa finally got a job as a doctor and is looking forward to dating since getting over the breakup...that Melany caused. Yikes. We’ll hear from her about that soon, so I won’t steal her thunder, but I will say it almost ruined their friendship!

I hope this was helpful for the newcomers and nostalgic for the OGs. If you have questions along the way, just ask! 

[nclkafilms]

A master’s lacking homage to a masterpiece 

(Review of ‘Mank’)

*Warning: contains minor spoilers*

In recent years, Netflix have really upped their awards season contributions by giving either huge budgets, total creative freedom or a mix of these to some of Hollywood's biggest directors. In 2018 Alfonso Cuaron gave us his deeply personal and technically impressive 'Roma'. In 2019 we received Martin Scorsese's long and long-awaited epos 'The Irishman'. Both received 10 Oscar nominations, but both also struggled to invite their viewers fully onboard (The Irishman in particular). In 2020, Netflix is back with 'Mank'; this time giving David Fincher a platform to create a black-and-white love letter to screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz, the often overlooked writer of 'Citizen Kane'. 'Mank' has also received 10 Oscar nominations, but has Fincher learned from Cuaron and Scorsese by making a more inclusive film experience?

In the story we follow Howard, or simply Mank as he is mostly referred to, as he has been asked to write the screenplay for Orson Welles’ first film for studio RKO. Welles has received full creative control of his films and has head hunted Mank to be his writer. Mank - being trapped to his sickbed due to a car accident - is put under pressure by a strict time limit, his secretary Rita Alexander and Welles’ desire to keep Mank away from alcohol, to which he has succumbed for years. It is, however, through numerous flashbacks to Hollywood in the 30’s that we slowly unravel the true inspiration behind Mank’s now historic screenplay for ‘Citizen Kane’. Hollywood is - as the rest of America - suffering the consequences of the recession and the film studios are under pressure from decreasing ticket sales and the threat of a democrat (or socialist as they denounce him as) running for office in California. As hinted at here, ‘Mank’ tells stories of everything from the film industry and the process of writing a screenplay to politics, media and the blurred lines between these industries while adding some remarks on Hollywood’s male dominance along the way and plenty of easter eggs to ‘Citizen Kane’ itself. We rush back and forth between Mank’s writing process and the ghosts of his past, and it is definitely an advantage to either know quite a bit about this period of time or give the film a second watch to fully understand the details of the story.

As Herman J. Mankiewicz, Gary Oldman gives another transformative performance. Oldman is without a doubt an extremely talented actor, who it is always a pleasure to observe. As Mank he gives it everything he has as the drunken screenwriter who after having fallen from the stars suddenly end up producing his best work. His acting when Mank is at his most drunk, most uncontrollable is balancing just on the edge of feeling overdone, and I am having a hard time relating to him in these scenes. It is, however, in his more subtle scenes as when he realises the potential consequences of a quick remark about the power of the film industry in relation to politics or in his final conversations with people about his screenplay, that Oldman shines the brightest. Is it an Oscar-worthy performance, though? I’m not sure. 

The other Oscar nominated performance is from Amanda Seyfried as the actress, Marion Davies, the mistress of media mogul William Hearst. Seyfried - as Oldman - gives everything and her character ends up being both more relatable and compelling than Oldman’s titular character. What she does is not overly showy, but she manages to create a character who is both seductive, funny and interesting, when it comes to her trying to find her place in the grand political and artistic puzzle that she has been caught in. The scene in which she refuses to help Mank, not necessarily because she disagress with what he’s asking, but simply to save her face, is in particular well-acted and saying for the character.  Sadly, Seyfried is not given that many scenes or material to work with, and as such Davies remains a character that I would have loved to see more of and explore further.

In additional supporting roles, Lily Collins as Rita Alexander, Charles Dance as William Hearst and Arliss Howard as film producer Louis B. Mayer stand out the most. Lily Collins manages to give Oldman some competition in their scenes especially regarding Alexander’s missing husband, Ian. Not unlike Marion Davies, though, Alexander is never explored in depth. We get a much clearer idea of who William Hearst and Louis B. Mayer were. As Hearst, Charles Dance delivers an icy performance as the mighty media mogul, who unknowingly becomes the focus for Mank’s screenplay. Dance is always interesting and his turn as Hearst is no exception. Especially the scene in which he recites the parable of the organ grinder’s monkey is memorable and satisfying to watch. As Louis B. Mayer, Arliss Howard also gives an icy, yet more explosive, performance as a man in power. If I was a film producer who has worked with Fincher, I would probably look in the mirror an extra time after seeing Howard’s performance as Mayer. He - along with Fincher - creates a cynical and often two-faced character, who ultimately follows the money and influence despite preaching about the importance of his MGM family (only to ask them to half their wages in the following scene). As such Hearst and Mayer are used to portray the cynicism and moral corruption caused by money and power; a familiar topic for Fincher, who this time aims his cinematic weapons at his own industry.

Another guarantee from a Fincher film is his impeccable attention to detail and unapologetic perfectionism when it comes to the technical aspects of his films. And ‘Mank’ is no exception; above everything else it is a technical marvel. The vision to create the film as if it was made in the 40’s has been executed close to perfection. The black-and-white cinematography in 2.20:1 aspect ratio (wonder why they went for this rather than 1.33:1) is a feast for the eyes; the addition of reel-change circles as part of the “degrading” post-production of the visuals does feel rather gimmicky, however. I got the “old film” feel without that, but it is without a doubt a detail held dear by Fincher himself. I would have preferred to either not have them or for the film to have been shot on film, though. Especially since the production design is beautiful and manages to create a believable and buzzing Hollywood aesthetic, which didn’t need the additional digital ageing on top.  The sound design works better, adding to the “old film” feel first of all because of the fact that it is in mono, but also due to it being deliberately recorded, mixed and toned to sound “old”. It feels less gimmicky than the visual aspects of the film. To round off the film’s sound is a close to perfect score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who once again proves their versatility by creating a playful score that oozes Hollywood in the 40’s.

Hollywood is also the main focus of the screenplay by David Fincher’s late father; a project close to the hearts of both father and son for years. But despite the endearing narrative of this aspect of the film, I cannot help but feel that the old Fincher’s script is one of the film’s main problems. It simply lacks focus and a structure that aids the story. The film is presented as the story behind the greatest screenplay of all time, but in reality it seems least interested in the screenwriting process. Of course, this holds a meaning too; about the different things influencing a screenplay, but instead it ends up standing on too many legs for it to be well balanced. The flashbacks do tell the overall story of Mank’s screenplay influences, but Fincher’s screenplay seems more interested in the politics, the film industry portrayal and the depiction of Mank’s inner demons. It never fully lands any of these plot lines to absolute satisfaction. The closest is the political story about the sudden invention of post-truth politics or “fake news”, which obviously is a comment to the current political climate. It features interesting thoughts on the ideas behind and consequences of this kind of political work, but it also distances me from the main plot, which is further sidelined by the - obviously deliberate, but questionable - lack of Orson Welles in the story. He is always in the periphery of the story, but never lands as anything but a caricature of the slightly arrogant wonder boy stripping our main hero from proper acknowledgement (for a long time). 

Now, let's return to my opening question: is 'Mank' a more inclusive film experience than other Netflix awards season darlings such as 'Roma' or 'The Irishman'? Well… While 'Mank' has been the most entertaining of the three in my eyes, the regrettable conclusion must be a "no". Looking at the individual parts they are all exquisitely executed, apart from the disjointed screenplay, and the film is an immense pleasure to look at and listen to. Ultimately it is just less than the sum of all its individual parts. It has all the components to become a masterpiece, it just never weaves them into one. It is a party that we are never fully invited to. This does not mean that I do not applaud Fincher for sticking to his visions or Netflix for giving him creative freedom, I simply just wish they did not keep me at an arm's length throughout the 131 minutes.

3,5/5

[helenarlett-rex]

I want to tell you all the story of House 2. Well... not really. Because House 2 isn’t really House 2. House 2 doesn’t have much of anything to do with House. It maybe has more to do with House than House 3 did, but hardly enough for it to really be considered House 2 despite being called House 2. House 4 was the first movie in the House series to actually be a direct sequel to House, making it the true House 2.

Sadly, House 4 was a travesty of a movie that plays out like it was made using three different scripts tossed in a blender with about twenty grams cocaine. If you’ve never seen House, a horror comedy made in 1986, you should go watch it. It’s great 80s movie. One of my favorites. I’m not talking about that one though...

House 4 is the constitution of the original House. After getting his son back from the ghost world and getting back together with his wife, author Roger Cobb, his wife, Kelly, (who I’m pretty sure was named Sandy in the first movie) and his son, Jimmy, who is now apparently his daughter, Laurel, still own the haunted house from the first movie, despite the fact that it has apparently changed from a mansion in a Beverly Hills style neighborhood to a rundown dump and been transported to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

I’m serious... This is what the house looked like in the first movie.

And this is what it looks like in the sequel.

They were able to get the same actor to come back and play Roger but apparently they couldn’t get the same house to come back and play the house...

Roger's step brother wants him to sell the house to him but Roger refuses because his father left him that house and they grew up there, even though in the first movie his Aunt left him the house and he had never seen it before until the start of that movie... But Roger doesn't have to worry about any of this for long because 10 minutes into the movie he dies in a car crash which also leaves his daughter in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. His wife, who always hated the house, decides to move in to it with her daughter, because apparently they didn't actually live there and only visited it as a vacation home despite Roger clearly living in it full time in the first movie... But I mean, why not? Why wouldn’t a woman who hated that house and only went there because her husband insisted on visiting it want to live in it full time after her husband died driving home from it?

After moving in a mysterious house keeper shows up saying that her work orders are already signed and she's already been paid. But she acts really weird, watching them with shifty eyes and searching the house when they aren't looking. Who is she and what is she up to? We don't know and it doesn't matter because after only three scenes in the very early part of the movie, the movie completely forgets she even exists.

Rodger's wife, Kelly, then finds a weird circular stone with carvings on it under the floorboards in the basement, but her flashlight explodes before she can get a good look at it. After that weird things start happening. The urn holding Roger's ashes falls off of the shelf and when she goes to scoop the ashes back up, a hand shoots out of them at her... Only for her to realize the urn never fell over and there are no ashes on the floor. They order a pizza but the pizza has a face on it and spits tomato sauce at her and tries to pull her into the garbage disposal. Feather hands shoot out of her daughter's bed and pull the daughter into the mattress like Johnny Depp in Nightmare On Elm Street, just as a knife magically appears next to Kelly for her to cut the mattress open  to get her daughter back... just for her to realize at the last moment that nothing actually happened, her daughter is still in the bed, and she's standing there about to drive a knife down into her... She takes a shower to have the water turn into blood and the words "Get out or you will die" written on the mirror. And that’s about it for the ghostly activity.

In this hour and a half long movie, we only get four ghostly encounters in the first hour, all of which are over remarkably fast and aren’t very impressive. No huge monsters like the ones Roger had to fight in the first movie...

Not knowing what to do Kelly goes to the local... uhh... Native America Catholic Priest...? I really don’t know what to call this guy... He’s not really a Catholic Priest but he does hang out in an old  Catholic church and seems to be Kelly’s spiritual advisor... He tells her that the house isn't attacking her. The land the house was built on was given to Roger's father as a wedding gift by the Native American people and the house sits on top of a magic healing spring. And because of that... Rodger's spirit is trapped in the house and can't pass on because he died at the hands of another... Because that makes perfect sense...

So once Kelly knows it's just the ghost of her husband being a total dick, and not some other ghost, everything is perfectly fine now and now Roger's ghost is protecting them. Still makes perfect sense...He still tried to trick her into stabbing her sleeping daughter to death, but she knows now that it’s just Roger so everything’s fine now. Maybe that was just a thing Roger used to do?

And then we find out that the reason Rodger's step brother wants the house is because he is in business with a Captain Planet villain who is in the illegal toxic waste disposal business. And I’m serious. Just look at this guy...

How much more cartoonish can you get? He even has to periodically stick a tube into his throat to drain unexplained yellow slime out of his body to prevent himself from choking to death on it. And his method for hiding his illegal toxic waste to to paint the word “Non-” on the canisters in front of the word “Toxic.”

This guy is straight up a Captain Planet villain who just invades the movie out of nowhere well past the half way mark with a new plot line the moment the haunting plot line is... uhh... resolved? And the reason he needs the land Kelly’s house is built on is so they can "pump all the water out of the magic Native American spring and fill it with toxic waste." Why? No reason given... Just because...

So Roger's step brother, who lives in an apartment where the walls are covered in pictures of naked women and has 5 inflatable sex dolls for roommates... that’s a pointless detail the movie thought it was important we know about... sends his goons dressed in a snake mask and a bug mask to terrorize Kelly and Laurel so they'll give up the house.

But because Roger's ghost is protecting them now, instead of trying to trick Kelly into stabbing Laurel to death... he turn's the daughter's bedroom lamp into a rottweiler with a lampshade sticking out of the top of it's head to chase the goons off. I’m serious. Here’s a picture of it...

There was a whole bit at the beginning of the movie where there was this old lamp with a plaster rottweiler on it in the house and Laurel wanted to take it home with her because Kelly won’t let her have a real dog, but Kelly wouldn’t let her because the lamp was ugly... And then... BAM! Chekhov's dog lamp...

The house then gives Kelly a vision where she learns that it was the same two goons who shot out their car tire causing the accident that killed Roger, under the order of Roger's step brother, so he could get the house when Roger wouldn't sell.

But Roger's step brother sends the goons back to burn the house down, and the house keeper, who the movie has suddenly remembered exists again, comes home with Laurel and she tries to shoot them but is knocked out and hid in the bushes outside. The goons go down into the basement and start dumping gas everywhere, but the house, or Roger's ghost, or whatever... makes them see each other as a real snake man and bug man and they shoot each other to death. The house catches on fire anyways because the gas comes in contact with one of their bullet shells... I'm sure it works that way... And Laurel is trapped in the burning house while Roger's brother calls 911 to report the fire way too soon for someone who actually wants the house to burn down.

He also doesn't seem to care about the fact that they are going to find him on the scene as the house is burning down when he has no reason to even be there and has already been harassing and even threatening Kelly to sell it to him so he can have the place demolished... That's bad for him because Roger's ghost makes him believe he has just gotten into a car with his Captain Planet villain boss and he tells him the whole story, bragging about how the cops have no way to pin it on him... when in fact they have every way to pin it on him... but it's fine, they don't even need to investigate now... because like I said, it was just the ghost tricking him and he's actually telling all of that to the house keeper... Who is actually an FBI agent... No idea why an FBI agent was posing as Kelly's house keeper, but oh well... It’s as good a reason as any as to why she was acting so weird the few times we saw her in the beginning of the movie.

Then the magic spring under the house erupts like Old Faithful, putting out the fire and healing Laurel’s legs... Roger's ghost shows up dressed as a cop to arrest his step brother, then Roger bursts into light and shoots up into the stars. I guess his soul is no longer trapped in the house because he caught the man to gave the orders to kill him...? Or maybe it’s because the magic spring was finally opened? I don’t know... It doesn’t matter because they all live happily ever after... except Roger because he's still dead... and his brother because he's going to prison.

And that’s the story of House 4 which was actually House 2 but shouldn’t have been House anything because it was a confusing, disjointed, inconsistant trash fire that never should have been made.

[dumbkiri]

Fate Changes Three

Parts: [1, 2, Here, 4, 5 ]

Summary: [Name] and Barbara’s lives are on the line. Batman has a difficult choice to make and while he abandons the only person that keeps Jason alive in memories, [Name] is content with his decision. This is her chance. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female! Reader

Genre: Action, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.1k //  7 pages

Warnings: Guns, Suicide, Blood, Death

"Because like you, Juliet, Romeo never died."

 His words haunted her like her nightmares. His modified voice still echoing in her head. His Arkham symbol planted in her memories. Everything about him, threw her off her tracks. It was bothersome that she couldn't find out who he was. Then [Name] thought about the star-crossed lovers.

Romeo died in the story. What did the Arkham Knight mean that Romeo never died? Juliet was under the influence of a sleeping potion which gave Romeo the impression that she died. He mourns for her like a true lover and voluntarily drinks poison because he believed she was dead. Juliet not even a moment before wakes up from her sleep and finds Romeo dead. Juliet then stabs herself in the heart. 

......

“Because like you, Juliet-”

Juliet, she was still alive. She was only sleeping. 

“Romeo never died.” 

Romeo was tricked.

“I fear too early, for my mind misgives-”

The Arkham Knight wasn’t going to let her kill herself. 

“Some consequences, yet hanging in the stars-”

If Juliet had woken up earlier, she wouldn’t have allowed Romeo to drink the poison. Because she was alive.

“Shall bitterly begin.”

The roles...they switched. 

......

 "Where's Barbara?" [Name] asked sitting in the middle between two armed guards. Her eyes trained on the Arkham Knight sitting casually in the passenger seat. His fingers drumming to the song playing on the radio. She recognized the singer's voice: Frank Sinatra. The man who sang the famous song in her dreams. 

"Hey," She addressed the Arkham Knight, "I asked you a question." 

Her attitude earned a hit from the guard on her right. He slammed the butt of his gun on her chest. She reacted with a strangled gasp. Her wounds hadn't fully healed. She was surprised she was still alive. 

"Barbara Gordon is in another car. Away from you." The guard on her left gave her an answer.

 She nodded her head and weakly said, "Thanks."

 Her head hung low and she was very exhausted. [Name] hated showing her weakness, but tonight was like no other night. Tonight she was going to experience fear and that scared her to no end. The rest of the car ride, [Name] had slept. The guards, of course, kept a close eye on her. Even the Knight would look over his shoulder to see what she was doing. Every time, he would see [Name] twitch in her sleep. It was either her fingers or her legs that often twitched. Sometimes she would flinch so hard that the guards would point their guns at her only to see that she was still sleeping. 

"Man, Batgirl has some weird habits," The guy on her right said. He set his gun down and looked at his partner.

 The left man replied back, "She flinched so much in only five minutes." 

The Arkham Knight scoffed and turned the radio higher before saying, "She's having a nightmare." The two guards looked at each other and shrugged. The Knight knew more about Batgirl than they did. They weren't going to question his knowledge. They weren't that stupid.

 [Name] heard what the Knight said and cringed. Only one person knew why she flinched in her sleep. Not even Batman, Alfred, Barbara or Tim knew.

 ……

“Jason, do you ever think that we could live outside of Gotham?” [Name] asked sitting in the backyard of Wayne Manor.

 Jason was casually laying next to her with his arms behind his head. The blanket beneath them providing sanction from the damp green grass it was placed on. Jason’s blue eyes traveled from the stars to [Name]’s back then to the stars again. “Not really?” He said with an unsure tone in his voice. The teen didn’t quite understand what she was trying to say.

 [Name] rested her chin on top of her palm and watched as the stars twinkled happily above them. Her [e.color] eyes reflecting the beautiful night sky. She bit her lip and finally got the courage to say what she wanted, “I think that in order for me to be happy, I need to live somewhere else. Gotham reminds me too much of-" She paused and rephrased her sentence, "Gotham isn’t a place for me to be.”

 Jason sat up at her words, “You’re not serious, are you? Gotham is your home." He watched her as she stayed quiet. Jason continued with a nervous stare. His heart racing faster than when she confessed to him. "It’s where Bruce taught us how to fight. Where Alfred comforts us in the time we need it. It’s where you help me come back to Earth.” He was not happy with her at the moment and [Name] knew that.

 “Jason,” She softly said, her eyes no longer on the night sky. Instead, they were staring straight into deep ocean blue eyes. She wanted him to understand why she wanted to move away from Gotham. “I need this. I need time away from Gotham. From crime fighting. Bruce offered to help me move to Metropolis. It’s not too far from here and I’ll still visit you guys. It’s not like-”

“You don’t get it, [Name]. I need you here with me.” Jason said and scooted closer to her. He placed his hands on her arms and brought her closer to him. “You...I like you, a lot. And you telling me that you want to move away from Gotham makes me feel like I did something wrong. Tell me, what did I do?” 

[Name] smiled at him and felt that he was calming down. That he was willing to listen to her reasons. “Jason, you did nothing wrong. If you did, I would tell you. But you,” She removed one arm away from his grasp and used that hand to reach his head. She brushed her fingers through his hair and then traced his jawline, “You will always be my home, Romeo. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He sighed and rested his forehead on her shoulder, “When will you move?”She resumed combing her fingers through his hair. Her eyes went back to the stars, “I move next week.”

Jason picked his head up from her shoulder and pressed his lips on her cheek. He then spoke up, his voice frail and soft, “At least write to me, okay?”This earned a giggle from the [h.color] haired teen. She covered her mouth and gave him an incredulous look. “Write letters? What century are we in?” [Name] laughed and laughed while Jason crossed his arms over his chest.

 He was currently pouting where he sat. “Writing letters is more personal than sending emails or messaging through technology, alright?”

[Name] couldn’t stop her laughing and Jason had about enough with her teasing. He grumbled under his breath and stood up off the ground. He began walking away, but [Name] grabbed his hand gently in hers. He turned back and saw her hair dancing with the light breeze. Her eyes reflecting the moonlight. 

“Of course, I’ll write to you, Jaybird,” She promised. 

Jason smiled and pulled her into his arms.

 They sealed the promise with a sweet kiss.

……

"[Name]."

It was someone familiar calling out to her. She knew that soft voice. That caring voice. 

"[Name], please, wake up." 

She felt someone tap her foot and she flinched in her sleep. Her eyes begged for her to open up and she begrudgingly agreed. [Name] blinked her eyes open slowly and her focus was absolutely trashed. It took her at least a minute to see who was sitting in front of her. "B-barbara?" [Name] asked sitting up in her position which caused a groan to escape her lips.

 "I wouldn't move too much if I were you. You put up quite a fight tonight. Not only that, but you been shot, survived a car crash and earned bruises from those military guys." Barbara let her head rest against the crate behind her. Her arms were also bound behind her back. She didn't look as bad as [Name] did, but it was evident that she endured just as much.

 "Before you ask, the Arkham Knight stuffed us back here. It looks like a large storage room." [Name] nodded her head, "You can see more than I can." She blinked her eyes again and the darkness around her was starting to get lighter. Her eyes were adjusting.

 "Barbara, do you have any idea of who could be the Arkham Knight?" Barbara shook her head, "No." Then she brought her green eyes to the beaten Batgirl in front of her. "Y-you have an idea, don't you?" "I am not sure," [Name] looked down at her legs, "he gives me these vibes. His actions...they remind me of him."

 Barbara squinted her eyes, "What do you mean 'him'?"

 [Name] sucked in a breath. It took her exactly two minutes to spit the sentence out. "They remind me of Jason." 

Barbara shook her head. Denying [Name]'s words of truth. Jason was dead and her friend needed to get over that fact. "He died," Barbara reminded [Name].

 [Name] involuntarily cringed at her words, "I know, just listen-"

 "The Joker killed him. We all saw the tape. We all saw him murdered in cold blood." Barbara was once again, relentless with her words. "He died, [Name]. He died being Robin." 

"I know!" [Name] yelled at her friend fighting back her tears. Why does everyone have to remind her that Jason was dead? "All I'm saying is that his actions were close to Jason's. I was hinting that maybe the Arkham Knight knew Jason. A childhood friend-" Not possible. "Or a classmate," Wrong. "Someone who knew him." Never.

 You know what you're saying is wrong. You know deep inside that- 

"How do we know it can be one of those options?" 

"Because it's someone who has a large target on Batman. Someone who knows Batman himself possibly even his true identity." Barbara finished. 

The door to the storage room opened. "I assume you two know Batman's true identity." Scarecrow popped out of nowhere scaring the girls for a quick second only for that fear to turn into anger. They weren’t going to answer an obvious question. Scarecrow knew for a fact that they knew who was under the mask. He walked closer to them and his feet stopped to stand in between them. Scarecrow looked at Barbara and then to [Name]. His sinister eyes boring into her fear stricken ones.

"Batman is here as we speak," Scarecrow informed them, "It's time for him to choose which Batgirl he wants to save." 

"What do you mean?" [Name] asked the tall man. He gave her a smile; a creepy and sinister one. Then she looked at Barbara, but her green eyes were trained on the floor. The commander's daughter knew what was going to happen, but she was still drawing a blank. "You'll see, Batgirl."

 The Arkham Knight walked in silently and picked up Barbara. He carried her over her shoulder and ordered his men to help [Name] up. They followed his order and lifted her off the floor. She gasped out loud and the Arkham Knight whisked his head in her direction. He watched as she hunched over in pain. Her face contorted and her arms wishing to hold herself together. Her face was decorated with more scratches and bruises. He wondered what her suit was hiding beneath. Broken bones? More bruises, but much more darker, yellow? 

 "Enough with the dramatics, Batgirl," Scarecrow chastised, "the real show has yet to begin." The Arkham Knight followed after his men. Barbara silent as ever and [Name] wincing every time his men lifted her off the floor. She was too tired and weak to fully stand, so they resorted to dragging her body to the cell she was going to be stuck in. Fear gas would soon be in her system screwing up her already screwed up mind.

 ……

[Name] was carelessly thrown into her bulletproof glass cell. Her body roughly colliding with the floor. Her neck aching in pulses that matched her heart rate. She coughed up and spat blood on the floor. In so much pain, she curled up into a ball and cried out from it all. 

"Batgirl." She heard Batman call out to her and she weakly looked up from the floor. "Bat...man," She groaned and pushed herself off the floor only to stumble against the nightstand next to her. Something clinked against the floor and she brought her full attention to it. There mockingly laying in front of her was a loaded pistol. 

She then looked in front of her to see her mentor. "Batman, I tried to stop them. But I ended up crashing into a tank and the car- we could have died on impact. I could have, but the Arkham Knight...he sav-" 

"Save your breath, Batgirl," Scarecrow popped up on the screens behind her. The background dark and the light on him. "Batman, the task is grueling ahead of you. Standing before you is your current Batgirl, the one you held dear to your heart." [Name]'s heart raced. "And in the other cell is your former sidekick, Barbara Gordon." The Scarecrow chuckled. "You have one choice to make tonight. Save your current Batgirl or the crippled one. You have two minutes to decide. Every ten seconds you wait, a light dose of fear toxin will be injected in their system via the collar they wear." 

[Name]'s hand flew to the collar around her neck. She didn't even know when they put this on her. Why couldn't she have felt it earlier? Her eyes were then directed to her right where she saw Barbara sitting down in her wheelchair. "Your time starts now." Scarecrow finished and [Name] ran up to the front of the cell. She placed her hands on the glass and called out to her mentor, "Batman, you have to save Barbara!" She felt a sharp prick at her neck and her vision slowly changed on her. 

"No, no," Barbara yelled out holding her hands to her head. "Leave me alone!" 

Batman looked between the girls. [Name] banged her hands on the glass to get his attention, "Listen to me, this may be the last time I get to speak to you," another dosage of fear toxin entered her system, "I don't blame you for anything. Not even Jason’s death for which you blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault that the Joker got to him before we could.”

She closed her eyes, so she won't see the horrors in front of her anymore. But that didn't stop the voices.

 "You left me alone to die, now look where you ended up. Alone.” Jason taunted.

 "Not true, you aren't him," [Name] responded with heavy breathing. Her lungs working at a fast rate due to her panicking. She took a deep breath in and stumbled away from the cell to see Jason’s dead body lying helplessly on the floor. Batman was no longer the center of her attention because the fear toxin was clouding her vision. 

The Joker’s laugh echoed in her head and she slapped her hands over her ears. But she could still hear his demented cackle; one of pure evil. Then she heard Jason screaming and yelling as Joker tortured him over and over. Her knees buckled and hit the floor with a pop. 

"I c-can't," [Name] cried and looked behind her to see the gun laying on the floor. She crawled over to the weapon and felt the familiar cold kiss her fingers. 

"What will you do, Batman? It seems both of them are willing to kill themselves." Scarecrow watched amused by what was happening. 

Both Batgirls reached for their weapons. Batman wasn't going to let either one of them to pull the trigger. But he had to think fast. With a heavy heart, he gave [Name] one last good look at her. This is not how he wanted to remember her. She was always so bright. So loving. Yet [Name] gave him permission to save Barbara before her. So he worked on opening Barbara’s cell before the redhead could reach the gun on the nightstand.

 ……

[Name] wasn't going to deny that her heart ached when Batman chose Barbara over herself. Who was she kidding? Barbara will always hold a special place in Bruce Wayne's heart while [Name] wasn't even sure he saved a spot for her.

[Name]’s mind drifted to the pistol. Her fingers wrapped around the cold gun and she stared at it helplessly. She could end it all right here. Pull the trigger and let her brains splatter against the wall behind her. She could let her body fall limp into Death's arms and have him take her away to wherever God deemed her soul to rest. But suicide isn't welcomed in Heaven. Taking your life was an insult to God who gave you the ability to live. At least that's what the nuns at the orphanage told her. 

"You can be with me."

 [Name] flinched at how cool and calm Jason's voice was. She knew he was standing right behind her in his Robin costume. She knew the fear toxin was still being applied in her body. Running its course and digging a deeper hole, a place where should would fall in and never come back to the surface.Her fear was coming to life. But she had to look at him again. Just this once. 

Slowly, she turned her body around and her eyes widened. Standing before her was Jason, but he looked better. He was wearing casual clothing which consisted of a red tee and jeans. The outfit she last saw him in. 

"Don't you want to be with me, [Name]?" 

BANG!

 She jumped up at the sound of a gun going off and she went to turn around to see what Batman was doing, but Jason stopped her. 

"You don't want to look over there, it's not pretty." He warned her and placed a hand under her chin to keep her eyes on him.

 [Name] closed her eyes and her hand gripped tighter on the weapon. Batman didn't save Barbara in time and he won't save her either. Because she was going to be with Jason. No one was going to stop her anymore. No Batman. No Arkham Knight. 

"All you have to do is pull the trigger. Then I can hold you in my arms forever." He cooed and removed his hand off her face.

 [Name] opened her eyes and looked at the gun one last time. The metallic black color shining in a different light. The weight of it light as a feather. She cocked it and lifted the barrel toward her. It touched her chin and she smiled.

 This was it.

[stra-tek]

Where Discovery Fits.  Or Does It?

So Star Trek: Discovery is meant to be set roughly 10 years before TOS proper, beginning in 2256.

BUT:  It introduces a new human sister for Spock who had never been mentioned before (yes I know, Sybok wasn’t mentioned either but that was before 30 years more canon).  Everything looks different.  The Klingons have been reimagined yet again and there’s open warfare for 9 months between Klingons and the Federation which wasn’t really mentioned before.  Here’s a breakdown of pros and cons of fitting Discovery into the larger Star Trek universe:

Cons:

Klingon redesign

Not only have the Klingons been reimagined yet again, their appearance here completely ignores the ENT episodes “Affliction” and “Divergence” which after 30 years finally explained why TOS Klingons look and act like humans and Klingons in the rest of the franchise do not. As well as the Klingons themselves, their ships look very different to how they have endlessly reused the same ship designs in the 225 year span of ENT, TOS, TNG DS9 and VOY.

 Federation redesign

Everything has been reimagined, looking far more like the Kelvin Universe reboot movies to TOS. Massive windows at the front of the bridges instead of smaller screens, complex touchscreen displays everywhere instead of blinking coloured squares and jellybean buttons.  When we see the iconic USS Enterprise, her profile is flatter, the nacelles are swept back akin to the classic movie version of the ship. The uniforms worn by her crew are brightly coloured versions of the Discovery costumes with black collars and pin badges, and only resemble the costumes from “The Cage” in the most superficial way. You can’t explain the design changes away with refits as happened way back in 1979 with The Motion Picture, since chronologically the Discovery Enterprise (or Discoprise, for short) appears before and after TOS version of the ship in “The Cage”, and in “Ephraim and Dot” the Discovery version USS Enterprise is the one seen throughout the TOS 5-year-mission implying it’s meant to be a straight up replacement.

 Technology upgrade

The USS Shenzhou is an old ship at the start of Discovery (2256), yet it has the same forcefields seen throughout Next Gen and Voyager, and appearing wherever needed to capture alien intruders.  Discovery has an atmospheric forcefield in her shuttlebay, and they keep the door open for the whole of season 2 affording a spectacular view.  Prior to this, the earliest we saw a forcefield that keeps atmosphere in was in Star Trek Generations, on the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-B 40 years later (2293).  For comparison, the classic Enterprise from TOS (2266ish) had to decompress their shuttlebay to allow landings/takeoffs (as seen in “Journey to Babel”) and when engineering is breached in The Wrath of Khan and the saucer in The Undiscovered Country, we see doors come down to seal off the affected areas.

Pros:

They directly reference the ENT episodes “Broken Bow” and “In a Mirror, Darkly” in dialogue, although in the latter, the USS Defiant appears on a monitor and it looks notably different to how it did in “The Tholian Web” and “In a Mirror, Darkly”.  

 In season 2 we even get a “previously on…” going all the way back to “The Cage” with everything looking exactly as it did in 1964.  It ends on a cool cut between Jeffrey Hunter’s Christopher Pike and Anson Mount’s.  The story of “If Memory Serves” is an integral part of season 2’s story and probably doesn’t make much sense unless you’ve seen “The Cage”, Trek’s very first episode from 55 years previously.  So here they’re making it clear that although everything looks and acts different, it’s the same world.

 The holographic communications system is removed from the Discovery Enterprise when it’s discovered to be the cause of her system breakdown in “Brother”, explaining to an extent why we never had those cool conversations with holograms in TOS and only screen comms.

 Anything to do with the USS Discovery, her Spore Drive, Michael Burnham etc is classified at the end of season 2.  Pike and crew tell Starfleet she was destroyed in the battle with the Section 31 Control ships, ensuring no surviving part of the Control AI can continue it’s quest for the sphere data.

 Star Trek: Picard adopts the Discovery split delta symbol and it’s shown prominently on the Starfleet bases and uniforms in 2285 and 2299.  The commbadge of 2399 at a glance looks like the one from “All Good Things”, “The Visitor” and “Endgame” a closer look shows they moved the split to from the centre to the Discovery 2/3rds position.  We also see the Discoprise as part of a holographic display at Starfleet HQ.

 Conclusion:

Star Trek: Discovery has had a very troubled life:  It was conceived as the first part of an anthology, then plans changed.  New showrunners had new ideas, Netflix gave the show a huge financial boost for international distribution rights (to the extent they were in the already in the black before the show was released).  And then more and more firings and leavings happened (some over quite ugly things, one showrunner was fired for being abusive to the writers), the show went through many showrunners, perhaps explaining why some plot threads seemed to vanish mid-season (Lorca’s tribble never met the Klingon spy it was seemingly set up for, and what happened to Pike’s religious leanings in his first few appearances?) and why the Red Angel storyline makes no sense when you think it through.   One of the writers seemed to think they weren’t allowed to use anything from ANY of the movies due to the Paramount/CBS split in a season one-era interview (thankfully said split is not an issue anymore) and an artist was under the impression everything had to look 25% different to TOS for legal reasons which sent parts of fandom on crazy conspiracy jags.

 When I watched Discovery, I treated it as a reboot.  It looks different, the technology is different.  The Spock of TOS didn’t have a human sister, that’s silly.  It was like comparing Adam West’s  Batman series  to Gotham. They’re different versions of the same world.  But now we’ve got the Star Trek Universe of shows (Discovery, Picard and forthcoming Lower Decks, Section 31, Prodigy) either here or on the way and of course they want everything interconnected.  It’s probably only a matter of time before we get a Defenders-style crossover miniseries.  New canon overwrites old canon, that’s why Jim Kirk’s middle initial is T not R, why the Enterprise runs on Dilithium and not lithium crystals.  So now Kirk’s Enterprise in TOS looks like the Discovery version, Spock has a human sister and Klingons look like they do in Disco.  They've rebooted Trek's 23rd century but kept the rest. Am I mad?  Nope, cos I’ve got my DVDs, decades of novels and fanfic about the “old” TOS era if I want to explore there.  And really just a TV show, right?  Enjoy modern Trek for what it is, because being mad at what it isn’t ends in toxic fandom.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Ice Blue - The morning after

A/N YOOOOO WHAT UP my body hates me and I’m so sorry for being flaky in a writing sense. Anyways, here is the morning after for the Teddy fic I did a while ago, requested by a cheeky lil anon. Enjoy lovelies

Y/N found herself dozing in and out of sleep, hangover still pressing dully over her eyes as Teddy dressed himself and went downstairs to grab some food for breakfast. She opened her eyes when she felt a soft press to her forehead, waking up to Teddy smiling above her holding plates dangerously.

“Was it weird that I just did that? I feel like we’ve never done that before.” Teddy grimaced, placing the plates down on the table beside his bed.

“Yeah, look we haven’t but I’m not against it,” Y/N laughed, sitting up in bed, pushing the pillow back so they could sit comfortably together. The top she was wearing sagged across her shoulders given that she was about 5 feet shorter than Teddy.

“I am thoroughly enjoying you wear my clothes, however,” Teddy grinned, placing his hand on the edge of the collar and rubbing his thumb along the edge of her neck and shoulder that was bare. Y/N leaned her neck back so he could lean forwards and kiss softly against her clavicle, breathing out a soft sigh.

Teddy winked at her, sitting on the other side of the bed and grabbing the food to place in front of them. They ate quickly, elbowing each other accidentally every few minutes and smiling self-consciously. Once they were done Teddy grabbed them off Y/N’s lap and cleaning them with a flick of his wand, placing them on the floor. He turned to face her, crooking his head to the side. His hair was lighter this morning, an icier colour that curled across his face.

“So, what were your plans for today then?”

“Is that your move? Ask them about their day?” Y/N laughed and received a scowl from Teddy.

“I actually hate you.”

“I mean based off this morning…” Y/N winked and Teddy shoved her lightly. “Ok, ok, I hadn’t really planned anything, I do need to get an essay done though.”

“So you’d be free to, like hang?”

“Oh man, hang? Did you just saw hang?” Y/N laughed louder, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “I thought you were mister suave! How did you get any girl to go out with you!”

“Well it’s different when it’s your best friend! I happen to like you, a lot!”

A silence fell over them momentarily, Y/N feeling her stomach turn as she took in Teddy’s words.

“A lot huh?”

“Enough to want to hang on my favourite day off of the week,” Teddy winked, composing himself slightly as he had begun to flush lightly across his cheeks.

“Well, I would love to, if you’ll help me with Herbology?” Y/N gave him a pouty look, pleading with him. Teddy had Professor Longbottom wrapped around his finger, and he was very good at Herbology.

“Deal,” Teddy smiled, stretching out his arms, “Did you want to go back to your dorm first?”

“Don’t want me wearing your large t-shirt around all day,” Y/N grinned, pulling at his shirt, “Also yes, might need a shower.”

“Perhaps,” Teddy stood up out of bed, “Meet you downstairs in an hour?”

“Sounds good.”

Y/N had a moment of panic when leaving and gave Teddy a short wave, leaving the room quickly, heart racing. She was hit with a bombardment of loud voices screaming at her when she entered her dorm room and had to take a step back to avoid a pillow being thrown in her direction.

“Excuse me, where were you last night?”

“Did you sleepover in someone’s dorm?”

“WHO DID YOU HOOK UP WITH!”

“No one,” Y/N moved through the room, head down, desperately avoiding the stares from her roommates and heading straight to the bathroom to jump into the shower. Once she was out a few of the girls had trickled out, but Olivia remained, sitting on the bed next to Y/N’s bed, legs swinging.

“If you don’t tell me I will kill you,” Olivia growled jumping over to Y/N’s bed and leaning over the side whilst Y/N picked out some clothes.

“It’s nothing, seriously,” Y/N pulled out a white dress with flowy sleeves and Olivia squealed.

“You’re going on a date,” She said in a sing-song voice placing her hands underneath her chin and grinning wider.

“Shut up,” Y/N groaned, pushing her off the bed so that she could change behind her curtains. Olivia stood right beside the curtains, her feet sticking underneath.

“Who is it! You have to tell me, I’m your best friend.”

“I just, can’t-“

“Oh my god.”

“No, Liv –“

“Oh my GOD,” Olivia slipped under the curtain and back onto Y/N’s bed who had one leg stuck in a pair of tights whilst she’d attempted to hold Olivia back.

“It’s fucking Teddy isn’t it, you stayed over with Teddy!” Olivia was watching her avidly. Y/N fixed her tights and stood up, smoothing out her dress.

“I… well… maybe – “

“Holy shit, and you weren’t going to tell me? Going to be honest, I’m a bit offended, but also congratu-fucking-lations that only took you like five years.”

“I will kill you,” Y/N hissed, pulling on a pair of boots and glaring at her. “You’re making me nervous as hell.”

“Alright, fair enough, but it is a big deal – in a good way,” She corrected herself, hands in the air when Y/N made a move towards her.

“Do I look ok?” Y/N presented herself, smiling awkwardly at Olivia, trying to ignore everything she just said.

“Perfect, as always,” Olivia grinned, “Oh wait!”

She ducked out from the curtains and returned before Y/N could ask what was wrong.

“Here,” Olivia held out golden earrings which had a star and moon hanging down from a chain.

“These are your favourite, I can’t.”

“You damn well can, and I better hear all the details later.” Olivia’s voice was aggressive, as she usually sounded, but she was smiling giddily up at Y/N, as if she was going on a date herself.

“Of course I’ll tell you,” Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled back at her, putting the earrings in. “I have to go, I said I’d meet him in an hour.”

“Well shoo then.”

Olivia pushed her out of the curtains and Y/N stumbled, collecting herself before heading down into the common room. It was sunny outside, a warm change to the heavy rain that had beaten against the castle for the past week, and most students were out of the common room and taking advantage of the turn in weather.

Teddy was waiting on the couches, wearing a denim jacked and black jeans, army boots up on the table before the fire. Y/N sucked in a tight breath, he’s your best friend, you’ve hung out with him plenty of times, what makes this any different?

Y/N tried to push down the other little voice that said, you slept with him you idiot.

“Hey! Ready to go?” Teddy turned as he heard her final footsteps on the staircase behind him, beaming up at her with a toothy smile that seemed to light up his whole face.

“Yep, where are we going?”

“Surprise, of course,” Teddy stood up to meet her, kissing her on the cheek lightly and taking hold of her hand so he could lead her out of the room. It all felt so natural, like they’d been doing it the whole time but this was the first time Y/N had noticed. He lead her towards the grounds but took her around the side of the courtyard instead of towards the lake and pumpkin patch. His hand never left hers, gripping tighter every so often as he led her towards what she realised was the greenhouses.

“We’re doing homework first?” Y/N teased, pouting at Teddy.

“Well actually,” Teddy pushed the door open to the normally locked Herbology greenhouses and pulled Y/N inside, turning to face her. “Neville gave me a copy of the keys so that I could come in here whenever I wanted.”

“Ahh of course, this is your secret date spot huh? How you impress all the ladies.” Y/N hated herself the moment she said it, feeling how obviously she was fishing for information, and cringed, “Sorry, I just am torn between my best friend self and the person who just slept with you.”

“Can assure I have never taken a date here, mainly cause they would be bored to death.”

“So glad I made the cut to be bored to death,” Y/N laughed loudly, echoing around the room.

“Alright, you know what I mean,” Teddy smirked, stepping forwards so that he was looming over her again. Y/N took in a breath and met his eyes. “I was thinking about how you need to do that essay, and I definitely don’t want to be the one who distracts you from your homework and makes you fall off the rails following me around, begging me for sex, you know.”

“I hate you, go on.”

“Well we’ve sort of done all the first date stuff you can do around here accidentally, given that we’ve been friends for like six years, so I thought maybe we could combine writing your essay with a sort of plant date and now that I’m saying it, it sounds super lame, I am so sorry,” Teddy put a hand over his face, groaning. Y/N couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the idea of Teddy thinking about all of this all morning.

“It sounds perfect,” Y/N leaned forwards and took his hand away from his face. “Take me through these beautiful plants.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re not just being nice?”

“I mean I am, but also I really need to get this essay done,” Y/N pretended to weigh up the two options in her hands, “I want to hang out with you, you dork!”

“Ok, ok,” Teddy looked exceedingly happy, taking hold of her hand again. “So, this one over here is my favourite.”

They spent the better part of three hours discussing the properties of his different favourite plants across the greenhouse, namely dittany and wolfsbane. As much as Y/N knew she had to remember a lot of this for her essay on her favourite plant (of which she had none, as she killed almost every plant she’d ever been given care of), but there was something about watching Teddy talk so passionately about the plants he’d been given special care of that made her want to just sit and watch him. Y/N didn’t think she’d ever seen him so himself, not stressed about what he was doing or saying, his hair had become brighter, the blue almost reflecting across the windows.

When they were done, Teddy locked up behind them and they began walking slowly towards the Great Hall for dinner. Teddy wrapped a hand around Y/N’s waist and pulled her towards him. She put her head on his shoulder, her lip curling.

“I know it wasn’t the most exciting first date, but was it ok?” Teddy murmured into her ear as they stepped into the courtyard.

“I love that you’re asking me that,” Y/N snorted, lifting her head to look up at him, “You do realise I was your date right?”

“I know, but you’re also my best friend and I need best friend advice and I want to ask you,” Teddy laughed, moving his arm down to hold her hand instead, swinging it lightly.

“Yes, it was perfect,” Y/N stepped in front of him quickly, facing him so that she could cut him off and kiss him. He kissed her back, caressing a hand across her chin and through her hair. Y/N pulled away first, smiling up at him.

“Honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“I just said honestly, you prat.”

“Jeez alright,” Teddy grabbed her hand again, stepping up towards the door into the castle. “You ready to like awkwardly walk through the hall and hear everyone lowkey talking about us as we hold hands and subtly announce that we are together even though we’ve been friends for years?”

“Sounds perfectly uncomfortable,” Y/N snorted, squeezing tighter on his hand, “Let’s go.”

Taglist: @maraudersandco @gollyderek @hermionie-is-my-queen  @siriusly-a-gryffindor-chaser   

[warcraftedtardis]

(This is NOT A SHIP IMAGE)

Another updated image from the darkside thumbnails. I completely changed the pose and tone but, hey, now we can see Remus’ face!

@5-falsehoods-phonated, @vindicatedvirgil, @theo-lord-of-love-and-rage, and anyone else who is interested.

STAR-FALL SERENADE - backstory below the cut

Dark. Dreary. Dank. What other d-words would best describe the situation? Remus paced in a tight circle, unconsciously straining against his restraints while his spiked tail whisked back and forth behind him. His horns were itching and his mind was too loud to think--to focus on a way out of here. 

The dungeon was musty, slimy, uncomfortable, and there were bones positively everywhere yet none--none at ALL--had any marrow to suck out. He’d checked. Thoroughly. He kept muttering all his thoughts out loud to himself, hoping that by giving them all somewhere to go, they’d drain out of his brain like a bucket with a hole drilled into the bottom. Only this time, instead of water, it was nightmare, blood, and... how would puss flow out of a bucket exactly. Nevermind, the fluid dynamics wouldn’t work. 

Around he went again when Roman lightly cleared his throat.

Remus swung his head around to face the tiny tiefling sitting on top of the windowsill some ten feet off the ground. How did he get up there? “You’re spiraling,” his twin supplied calmly to which Remus puffed out his cheeks and tossed the stress-bleached lock of hair out of his eyes. 

“Well, at least I’m doing something, Mr. Too-Prissy-To-Get-His-Boots-Dirty.” Remus’ tail slashed through the air, slamming down onto the remains of a skull and shattering the dusty-dry thing to pieces. He watched it from the corner of his eyes and Roman’s attention was momentarily drawn as well. 

Roman sighed, flicking his sanguine stare back to Remus with a worried bend to his brows. He recognized that look well enough to guess what was coming. “I’d help you, bro, but mother would be--”

“Mother would be furious, yes.” Remus cut him off with a sigh, slumping against the central pillar to which he was chained. “Mother always ruins our fun, doesn’t she?” He sighed in a long baritone groan, no long putting on the more childish airs as he spoke. His head wasn’t getting any quieter talking with his brother like this, but an aching in his chest eased up a little. 

Roman gathered himself from the window and jumped onto the pillar, teetering a bit and causing Remus to jump to his feet in alarm. When the smaller twin stabilized himself and crouched, he laughed at Remus’ concerned expression. 

“Please, don’t be so reckless, Roman! That’s my job.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” His pinkish skin flushed with laughter and he scratched the base of his left horn, hand hanging down to the metal ring Remus had been dragging around the length of the pillar. They both looked at the restraints again and Roman gasped. While they were looking at the same segment of chain, Remus felt like he wasn’t able to process what he was seeing over all of the background noise in his head until Roman pointed it out. A rusted link. The twins looked at each other and Remus beamed, his mustache scrunching up as he summoned his morningstar into his hands and swung. There was a loud crack and the chains gave way. 

He glanced up again but Roman was gone, only for his voice to echo from the other side of the cell door. “Bro, over here! You can use those broken bits as a lock pick.”

“Great idea, Roman,” he chortled while swiping up a could of the metal fragments and using his demonic fire to melt it into a thin strip. On the way to the door he swiped a bone to gnaw on for the hell of it. The pick nearly broke but he was able to get the tumblers a tumbling and the door swung open with a loud creak. Roman was already scampering down the hall, waving him after. “Where are we going?” He couldn’t stop thinking about what Mother would do to him when she found out he’d broken out of his ‘room’ like this. She wasn’t exactly thrilled to have him hear, even after he’d proved many times over that he could do what she asked of him--that he was useful. 

“We’re getting out of here, Remus. I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore.” Roman’s voice was serious...or as serious as a twelve year old could sound. Remus caught up to him and grabbed his twin by the shoulder, half leaning down just to do so.

Remus knelt in front of Roman so that they would be at the same eye level. “What are you talking about, getting out of here? And where would we go if we could get out? M-Mother would never let--”

“To Hell with Mother!” 

Remus blinked, surprised that Roman had cursed and even more surprised that he’d shouted.

“To Hell with that Bitch who took us away from the sunlight! Remus, you know how to get out of here, we see it every day when we walk by the crack in the castle wall. We’ve always imagined what was on the other side but Mother.... Mother had us too afraid to do anything about it. It’s time we acted on our thoughts.” Roman pushed Remus’ hand off his shoulder and then hugged his twin around the chest. “I want to go home Remus. I want us to both go home.”

His mind went quiet for a moment as the ideas--the ingenious, insane plan formulated in his mind. Just like before, his face bent into a demented, wide-eyed grin. Remus cupped one hand around Roman’s back to pick up his little brother, the morningstar in his other hand and a green-tinted hell-flame in his eyes. “Alright! Let’s make sure we leave with a strong impression, ey Roman?”

The child in his arms snickered, nodding as Remus went charging through the castle. Any guard he saw, he smashed on the head, cackling the whole way. The one he couldn’t smash, he fired off quick spells at as he sprinted, making a beeline for the gap. Roman weighed practically nothing as they went, occasionally shouting out warnings to Remus that someone was behind him. These were never people he hadn’t seen, only those he was incapable of noticing as the noise filled his head again. Remus once again thanked whatever divine could actually give a damn about a being like him that Roman’s voice was always the loudest. 

He got to the gap but instead of trying to squeeze through something that maybe only Roman could fit in seeing as he was half Remus’ size, the Eldrige Knight wound up a swing and bashed the wall down just large enough that he could duck inside. 

“Hurry!” Roman screamed as more guards rounded the corner. Remus couldn’t stop laughing the whole rampage through and tucked and rolled into the gap, slapping a Wall of Force up behind him so they wouldn’t be followed. The passageway was dark and winding--more like a rodent tunnel that was barely large enough for him. Remus crawled after Roman as they gradually began to climb towards the sky. His hand broke through a layer of thick dirt in some long forgotten graveyard and he hauled himself out of the ground with deep gasping breaths and a slow, rolling giggle. There was a flash of lighting and it began to heavily rain. Roman was already across the walk and under a pavilion, somehow spotless while Remus was fully caked in mud, the bone still clenched in his mouth. 

He spit it out and staggered his way under cover. “So, little brother, which way to the Palace?”

“I, uh,” Roman wrung his gold-nailed hands and shivered, scooting closer to Remus who was starting to feel the chill himself but couldn’t bring his exhausted body to react. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t recognize this place.”

“I don’t either... Hope we don’t freeze to death... or get struck by lightning and have our insides explode everywhere.” He paused and then chuckled, “We can always dig up a body for dinner!”

“Gross.” Roman stated flatly, a pout on his face.

Remus sighed and forced himself to stand, leaning on his weapon some. “Welp, time for adventure in the great wide somewhere.” The two turned and left the graves behind, Roman reaching up to take Remus’s free hand as they walked.