#I forgot their little tails which is a crime but I don’t feel like adding them 😔

[pineneedleprince]

Squeezes them until they pop (Excuse my inconsistent art style I’m playing around with it lol)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

raven-san, can we please have a wedding crashing where jade needs to marry this girl from another crime family to consolidate power and become the next head of the leech mob :)) but floyd's like I'M BORED and annoyed that his brother's being snatched up by a random chick, so he asks basketball bros, and azul, to help save jade?

This one is super long, so I added some extra sections and placed the rest of the wedding crashing below the cut!

***Spoilers for Jamil and Floyd’s Unique Magic!!***

"I object to this wedding...!"

Pre-Wedding Jitters

A call comes for the twins in the dead of night, without warning. It’s their parents with exciting news: they’re naming Jade as the next Don Leech. The catch? The Leech mob’s in the middle of a merger with the Worm mob, and he’ll have to marry Don Worm’s daughter to secure the deal.

Jade, ever the dutiful son, is honored by his future title and calmly agrees to the arrangement. On the other hand, Floyd’s annoyed by the idea, and can’t keep quiet about his irritation. He calls out to his twin in the darkness.

“... Ne, Jade.”

“Ee, Floyd?”

“Are you really okay with going through with this? You’re just gonna do what they said? Even though you don’t know the Worms at all? Even if you’ve never met that girl before?”

“It is a request coming directly from father and mother. How could I refuse them? And, furthermore... If I do not undertake this task, then it would fall to you, the next choice to inherit the title of Don Leech. I cannot allow that to come to pass--fufu. You do so enjoy your freedom, yes?”

“... Jade, you’re so dumb sometimes. What’ll happen to your freedom, then? Will you get so busy with being the big boss and being married... that you won’t have time to play anymore?”

“... Perhaps. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

That thought doesn’t sit well with Floyd--not at all.

“I trust that you will make your own fun of the situation,” Jade reassures him. “You always do.”

As the weeks pass, Floyd sees less and less of Jade around, since he has to prepare for the wedding. Jade reassures him that he’s doing just fine, but Floyd can see right through his lies. He can tell that Jade’s more frazzled than usual--there’s a lingering to his words, and a longing in his eyes, savoring every last bit of autonomy he has before his fate is forever sealed.

Floyd hates it. He hates being lied to by his own brother, and he hates feeling powerless to stop the wedding. Floyd’s so angry that he develops this murderous aura in the weeks leading up to the wedding, which makes everyone around him shy away.

One day, he gets sick of being in the water--it’s a reminder of the wedding to come--so Floyd plays basketball on land to vent. He ends up chomping down so hard that he deflates a ball, then dunks another basketball so hard, he breaks the net.

He sprawls out on the ground and angrily shouts at the sky. His basketball bonks him on the head... and that’s when an idea hits him: maybe he can’t stop the wedding alone, but no one said he couldn’t phone some friends.

Assembling the Dream Team

Floyd first dials up Azul, who agrees to help after some whining and signing a contract agreeing to pay Azul handsomely for his services (... although truthfully, the octopus does want to help Jade, but doesn't immediately agree to do it because of his pride as a businessman).

Floyd also calls his old basketball buddies for help! Jamil and Ace are much more adamant than Azul, but Floyd strongarms them into pitching in. ("Umihebi-kun, Kani-chan, if you don't help me rescue Jade, I'll get suuuper mad, you know? I don't think you'll like me when I get mad. Moray eels are strong hunters, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem for me to track you guys down and give you a good squeeze~" "OKAY, OKAY, WE'LL DO IT!!")

Together, the four boys meet up to scheme of a way to disrupt the wedding without jeopardizing the Leech mob's future. Floyd actively leads the discussion, allowing his hidden genius to come to the surface.

Ace doesn’t contribute much to the strategy (laid out by Azul), but he does keep the spirit up with some jokes. Meanwhile, Jamil provides snacks for them when they work late into the night (though he keeps passing semi-glares to Azul whenever the octopus compliments him or tries to be friendly).

In preparation for the crashing, Azul brews some potions to give Jamil and Ace so they can take on temporary merforms. After all, the wedding will be underwater, in the Coral Sea, and they’ll need tail fins.

The date of destiny draws ever closer... and Floyd's never been so excited to cause chaos in his whole life.

The Crashing - Team Azul & Jamil

They split into two pairs on the day of the wedding—Azul and Jamil, and Floyd and Ace. Floyd uses his position as the future son-in-law to Don Worm to arrange a meeting between himself and the don... except Azul and Jamil will show up instead.

Don Worm shows up to the meeting in his finest clothes (which is very little, given that he’s a merman), sounding a bit annoyed the sudden summoning. “Make this quick, I’ve got to go see my baby girl’s big day... Wait. You fellas aren’t the F. Leech boy.”

“No, we aren’t, sir. We are his representatives... Proxies, if you will,” Azul insists, giving his warmest and most welcoming smile. He uses a tentacle to tug on Jamil’s tail, forcing him to smile too. “You see, there is an important business matter we needed to discuss with you on behalf of Floyd.”

“Hoh? And what would that be?”

“I believe my business associate would be better off explaining the matter than myself.” Azul gestures to Jamil, who has his head down.

“Oi, what’s with you? Don’t you know who I am, boy? It’s rude to not look your elders in the eye when they are speaking to you!! Show me the respect I deserve, from one professional to another!!”

“My apologies, sir.” Jamil looks up, locking eyes with the mob boss. “... Is this better?”

“Yes, that’s...”

“Snake Whisper.”

Don Worm suddenly goes glassy-eyed and slack-jawed. Azul claps at the sight, showering his partner with compliments. “As expected of the talented Jamil-san! Even one look from you can bring a mafia lord to his downfall. Truly, your Unique Magic is most impressive!”

“Save your flattery for later.”

Azul’s lips curl into a smirk as he whips out a golden contract from his briefcase and offers it to the don. “Now then, if you wouldn’t mind, sir... sign on the dotted line.”

The Crashing - Team Floyd & Ace

Ace and Floyd rush to the wedding venue, their tails cutting through the water like knives as they swim at a breakneck pace. Ace can barely keep up with Floyd, who surges far ahead.

“H-Hey, should we really be barging in like this?! Don’t mob families have weapons and other dangerous stuff? Is there a backdoor we can take instead? Hello?! Floyd-senpai, are you listening to me?!” (He isn’t.)

The open, underwater comes into view, and Floyd barrels in without any hesitation, tearing right through some decorations and knocking over the wedding cake with his tail. A loud CRASH! echoes through the waters, drawing eyes to him.

Jade stares at his brother from the altar—wide eyed, but a mirthful smile on his lips. Floyd waves to him, and then to his mom and dad in the crowd of guests. “Hiii, Jade! I’m here to pick you up now.”

The Worm girl starts sobbing, wailing something about how her special day’s been ruined, and where is her papa to put an end to this? At her signal, security guards, and some of the rougher looking guests—Worm family associates—lunge at Floyd, claws and teeth out. A few of them have produced wands, and what seem to be guns—loaded with harpoons.

“Bind the Heart!” Objects and stray magic go flying in all directions, hitting both people and wedding decorations. Cloth tears, columns crumble—but it’s one man against many, and he can only bind so many hearts before the blot starts to stack.

Ace makes it just in time, sending their foes and their weapons hurtling through the water with a blast of wind. “This is why I said to be careful, dammit! Your Unique Magic’s such a crapshoot—don’t just use it whenever, or you’ll be sushi!!!”

“Ahahahah! Kani-chan’s being all heroic today! That’s so cute. Don’t worry, I can play my part, too...!!”

Using his tail, Floyd hooks around a drifting merman and chucks him straight into another. They collide with a CRACK!—but Floyd barely registers it. He’s already bolting off, grabbing heads and smashing them together, slicing through others like a knife through butter.

There’s a crazed, frenzied look to him, gleeful laughter cutting through the waters and mixing with the Worm bride’s screeching. I forgot how scary Floyd-senpai can be, Ace realizes. (Jade and Floyd’s parents are cheering for him from their seats.)

Jade looks quite proud of his brother, even laughing along to the brutal slaughterfest. His bride stares at him incredulously. “Stop that brute! He’s ruining MY special day!!”

“No,” Jade replies calmly. “I don’t think I will. This is far too amusing to let it end so soon.”

She lets out a frustrated scream and launches herself at her groom, hands going for his throat. The Worm girl is slammed back with a strong hit to her gut, courtesy of Jade’s tail.

She flies back, slamming into a column—and feels a tail wrapping around her and squeezing tight. Constricting her to the point where it was difficult to breathe. A livid mermaid glares down at her, teeth bared in a snarl.

“No one lays a hand on my children,” Mama Leech declares. “No one.”

From the corner of her eye, the Worm girl can see that Jade has cast off his bow tie and flitted over to Floyd, embracing happily in a battlefield adorned with red ribbons trailing through the water. Her vision is abruptly blocked off by a broad-shouldered merman wearing a grimace.

“Now then, what shall we do with this one?” Papa Leech wonders aloud—though from his tone of voice, he has nothing good in store.

The Aftermath

“You’re all fish bait when daddy hears about this...!” the Worm girl warns, her words raspy. “Th-The merger won’t go through...! There’ll be war between the Leeches and the Worms...!”

A loud throat clearing comes from behind. “Fortunately, that won’t be happening.”

Azul and Jamil make their appearance, the octopus merman smugly showcasing a contract. “Ashengrotto—Azul Ashengrotto, legal and business extraordinaire at your service, Don Leech and Lady Leech.”

Papa Leech grunts. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“This?” Azul’s smirk widens. “Why, it’s a prenuptial stating that, in the case that an act of violence is enacted by the bride toward the groom, the marriage is considered null and void... and the bride’s family assets are to be claimed by the groom. Signed by Don Worm himself.”

“Wh-What?! Impossible!! How did you get daddy to sign such a stupid deal?!”

“Oh,” Jamil says nonchalantly, “we have our ways.”

“So... Uh, Jade-senpai’s still gonna be the next Don Leech?! And he’s gonna be in charge of an even bigger and richer family... How is that any better than the situation before?! You’re just giving him more resources for committing crimes!”

At that moment, two hands come down on Ace’s shoulders, causing him to freeze up.

“Kani-chaaaaan! Everyone!! Thanks so much for your help~”

“Yes, you have my sincerest thanks, Ace-san, Jamil-san... Azul.”

“It is my pleasure to assist such VIP clients. Ah, but there remains the matter of my promised payment—” (Jamil and Ace internally groan at Azul’s words.)

“Payment?” Don Leech scoffs. “After the ballsy operation you boys pulled off today... I’m more inclined to give you job offers instead of a one time sum. How do you lads feel about being hired as the Leech family’s personal lawyer, interrogator, and... well, whatever the heart one is good at.”

“My, my! Such a generous and lucrative offer—“

“There is no way I’m accepting that, especially if that means working with Azul.”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I’m good at lots of stuff!! I’m the one that saved Floyd’s tail fins, is no one gonna acknowledge that?!”

“You did amazing, sweetie!!” Mama Leech chirps—her tail grip tightening until the Worm girl passes out. Ace leaps back in fright. “As a reward, why don’t you let me give you a hug?”

“S-STAY BACK!!”

“Ahahahah! Everyone’s getting along so well, Jade. Isn’t this fun? You wouldn’t be able to enjoy this if you had gone to get hitched.”

“Fufufu. You are correct, Floyd. How sad it would have been if I were to miss out on touching moments such as this. From the bottom of my heart... I thank you for thinking of me, and for rushing to my aid. I could not have asked for a better brother.”

... What Floyd doesn’t know is that this was all according to keikaku Jade’s own machinations. He would never take the order to marry lying down—but he couldn’t outright defy it without immediate consequences, either.

Thank the Great Seven Jade has reliable puppets friends to help him out of a pinch. I’ll be certain to put the additional funds we have gained to good use... Perhaps to start a little mushroom farm.

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks {Omegaverse AU}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Fantastical visions of the future were few and far between - the hectic nature of professional heroism always managed to choke the life out of other, more selfish pursuits. Romance is considered within this category, for it seems to benefit none but those whose involvement is direct. Finding a mate under such conditions becomes an endeavour worthy of Hercules himself. The pain and fatigue were discouraging, and no-one kindled his interest - not even remotely.

Yet, instincts and unbearable yearning dictated his Omega's flight pattern. Although his heat wasn't in-bound, his heart refused to beat alone. To the contrary, its canary-song extended both encouragement and guidance to the love-lost and wandering Keigo: "In aeternum, find your forever."

Forever, huh? Who'd be willing to spend the rest of their life with me? Bet I seem a tad too cocky for an Omega, being the Number Two and all that. What does 'forever' even mean? I could do forever, without a doubt, but...who'd do it with me?

Naivety glimmered behind his eyes, as he contemplated 'forever'. What were his requirements for an Alpha? How could an equipoise be bridged between work and domestic life? Which mask would he choose if...if 'forever' remained elusive? Keigo's prior method of coping was simple, but effective: KFC and cry. While ultimately refreshing, in the moment, death always seemed sweeter. It never advanced into a viable option, but a dramatic flair was par for the course.

"-and that's the courting process of a Red-Tailed Hawk!"

Keigo's over-investment in daydreams and quandaries had apparently immunised him from any outside force, until that very moment. Sparing a glance toward the ground, he recognised the familiar figures of humans and...hawks?? Wait...there were falcons, too.

So many birds of prey...and they're all so well behaved. That woman...is she a Falconer? The Omega nestled within Keigo's soul soared at the mere thought. ...Is she an Alpha?

Little cooperation could be plucked from his mind, which knew wisdom from folly. However, despite its best adjudication, Keigo and his Omega (at this point, almost assumed to be two separate entities) decided against rhyme or reason. After all, if a bird squawks at you for submission, squawk louder to assert dominance. That tactic was flawless. Keigo puffed out his wings, swooping ever-lower, praying for even an ounce of attention. He received far more. At the instant of his descent from the heavens, the birds alerted you. Every syllable rolling from your tongue became jumbled, a crimson hue paining the canvas of your cheeks. This man...celestial, god-born...he was no stranger to your heart.

"Is that Hawks??" One of your students yelled, excitably. "What's he doing here?? We're nowhere near Fukuoka!"

"He does have wings, idiot." The venom-laced retort went unchecked - you were busy ogling those symbols of beauty and strength.

Subtlety wasn't an art you had perfected, but where was the consequence? Keigo certainly relished the experience, finding comfort in every sweep of your eyes, every compliment and feather-light touch. Had you asked permission? No. Did he care? Did he fuck. The opportunity for a congenial introduction had passed, and if honesty took the reins, How in the Fresh Prince of Hell do I approach this? KFC won't solve every dilemma. Think, Keigo! What would the Colonel do? How would he weasel his Kentucky fried ass out of this? Not like...I need her to like me, obviously, but I need to say something! She could be my forever...

Unfortunately, your avian protectors (whom Keigo had ignored and then forgot existed) deliberated among themselves for all of two seconds, settling on a guilty verdict and sentencing him to death. His crime? Fuck knows, who cares? Their shrill cries and fiercely-beating wings sliced through the mirage of tranquillity.

You sighed. "Hestia, Rhea, inside voices please. Juno, Asmodeus, you aren't menacing, so stop pretending to be. Why don't you greet him, rather than saying all that nasty stuff, hmm?"

"You can understand them?" Incredulity punctuated his words - how fortune must finally be favouring him.

The birds were indignant, but eventually resigned. Just one of hopefully many triumphs for Keigo.

"Yes, that's my quirk. It's confined to birds though, so not particularly useful." You smiled, failing to notice your students silently slipping away. "Oh, and eh...sorry. I didn't ask before touching you. Your wings are just gorgeous."

"Haha, nothing wrong with that. You've got good instincts." He mused, feeling his cleverly-constructed character melt away, bit by bit.

Strident melodies and the giggling of tiny cherubs played games with his ears. "About that...are you an Omega, by any chance? The news always says you're a Beta, but you don't have that scent."

"I am." He was too eager and willing to provide such information.

"You're an Alpha?"

Do you wanna get married? No...I can't ask that. That's beyond stupid.

You nodded. "Yeah, both my parents are Alphas, so it was practically a guarantee. Don't mind the birds," You added, after noting a sudden stare-down between Keigo and Asmodeus. "they're...flighty."

"That one hates me, for sure." He huffed.

"He hates everyone, especially the people who get my attention. And...most male birds. He doesn't get to decide how I spend my time though, despite his best efforts." The gentle caress you afforded Asmodeus sent envious, yet calming whispers to his heart.

She'd be good with kids. Can I...can I make this work? Am I allowed to...? She's looking at me the same way I'm looking at her...

Was he a hostage, or a voluntary captive? What did it even matter? If this happiness, so pure and unbridled, was a vice, then hurry and cast him to the depths of Hell.

In aeternum...I think I've found forever.

[Word Count: 946]

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt9: Phased

“Veronica! Hurry up!!!!!” The most common words to have come out Yang’s mouth in recent days. Day, evening, or nigh, Yang was calling her name through their living room and dining room that was completely littered with clothes on top of suitcases. “Getting dressed!” A younger voice yelled from upstairs.

Yang:Why aren’t you dressed already!?!?!

Veronica:I was, but I forgot the socks that went with got dirty.

Yang:So you changed the whole outfit!?

Veronica:Why do you sound surprised by this!?

Yang:Veronica if we miss our boat to anima I swear-

“Gah!” A curtain of blonde hair with several dark strands of black hits her face and got all in her mouth. Yang immediately backed up and looked towards the ceiling with a slightly irritated gleam in her eyes. Both of her arms went to her hips. “Really Veronica?” The young girl was trying to keep a straight face which was incredibly hard when looking at her ma’s trade mark stare upside down. Frankly she was impressed Yang wasn’t laughing at just seeing a blinking head.

Veronica:Hi.

Yang:Are you dressed yet?

Veronica:Almost. Can you hand me that top behind you. I’m not decent.

Yang:I hope you mean the purple long sleeve because the only other shirt I see is the white v-neck that I’d find hard pressed to call decent.

Veronica:You fought crime in incredibly small tights, a small jacket, and a tube top. You’re going to give me flack about a v-neck?

Yang: First of all, they were compression shorts. Second, are you trying to wear it with the black miniskirt.

Veronica:.....

Yang:*smirking* Thought so. You’re getting the long sleeve.

Veronica:*folds ears* Mom! Your wife is being grumpy!

Yang:Blake! Come straighten out your child!

Slow footsteps came creaking around the corner to show the tired faunus in her nightgown stumbling a bit. Her long hair a total mess and waving her ears hello at both bundles of fiery passion. Veronica’s arm came through the ceiling to wave back in rhythm with her own ears. Yang walked over to kiss Blake’s cheek and becoming a post for a Blake to lean on.

Yang:Sorry, didn’t realize you were still sleeping.

Blake:Stayed up.....to finish some papers. Why are you two arguing? Actually, why are you still here?

Yang:Your daughter-

Blake:Our daughter.

Yang:She’s yours when she gets like this.

Veronica and Blake:What, you mean like you?

Yang:H...Hey! Can you just tell her to dress conservative while we’re going to the coldest place ever and hurry up.

Veronica:That ship is literally here for us; they won’t leave us behind. Also please explain to ma how my outfit choices are fine.

Blake:....

Blake:Can I make tea first? Also talk to both of you at ground level? Veronica just throw on something, or nothing at really. You came out of me. I’ve made everything you got.

Veronica:Eugh, mom can you not phrase it like that?

Yang:Right? I mean I helped a little.

Veronica:Really!? Right in front of me? *leaves*

Yang:Old enough to where what you like but can’t handle a little adult humor. Oh how I mess being sixteen.

Blake:I don’t.

Yang:I doubt any member of a radical group would. How would you like your tea? Please say with honey.

Blake:Lavender.

Yang:Booooo. One day you’ll join the honey team. *grabs kettle*

Blake:Between your jokes and scuffles with Veronica about clothes I hope you know that you sound just like your dad.

Yang:Good! He raised two badass daughters. I got my hands full with just one.

Veronica:I’m coming down. Mind your heads!

Blake moves a chair and the surrounding clutter as Veronica’s legs start coming through the ceiling; shortly followed by the rest of her. She lands softly with no sound what so ever. Despite the talk about the so called compression shorts that Veronica tried to call out, she was now wearing them along with a tank top. Her tail slides up the front of it to rub her stomach.

Veronica:Geez guess I should really put all of theses actually in the suitcases now huh?

Yang:Ya think?

Blake:Do you really have to take so much clothes and fabric with you?

Veronica:Of course! I know the change of scenery will inspire me to come up with a new design. Can’t let the ideas escape from me because I’m unprepared.

Yang:You do remember you’re also helping set up and manage the tournament right. It’s not a vacation. *hands Blake a cup of tea*

Blake:*grabs entire tea pot*

Yang:......

Veronica:*smiles* It might not be a vacation but it’s definitely a breath of fresh. I plan to capitalize on it and that starts with attire.

Yang:Fair, just not that v-neck.

Veronica:Hmmmm, what’s stopping me from grabbing it right now and running away?

Yang:What’s stopping me from cutting off all the lights and wrestling you?

Veronica:I hope all the stuff on the ground. We both can’t be fumbling around in the dark.

Yang:I like my odds.

Blake:*wiping mouth* Ooooorrrrrr you can let me take a side like you both called me in here to do.

Veronica and Yang:.......Did you drink the whole pot?

Blake:Oh, sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted any.

Yang:That’s not the issue....

Veronica:Wasn’t that scolding?

Blake:Eh. Let’s focus on the problem at hand. Yang?

Yang:Y...Yes?

Blake:If Veronica were to walk around as she is right now, would you think that is appropriate?

Somehow there was a trap in this question, but Yang couldn’t figure it out for the life of her. She turned to Veronica to exam her. The girl truly was blooming just like Yang had around that age. Toned body, a healthy smile, hair, dramatic lilac eyes, and a figure that somehow managed to take a decent amount of the best parts from both her and Blake; just proportioned to the girls slightly leaner and shorter build. Yang would be over the moon that somehow every Xiao Long kid made out to be basically a bombshell. Too bad it came with constant supervision to spot the wondering eyes of others. ‘I gotta remember to treat dad to something. How’d he do this like it was nothing?’

Yang:Well.....it’s not exactly inappropriate but I wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

Blake:*Smirking* Why?

Yang:Because you know how people are! Who knows when creep might pull a stunt or she might get unwanted attention. Girls might hassle her and guys can be excessive. I just want you to not have to deal with all that because if I see it then I might fight a kid.

Veronica:I fight my own battles you know? I mean it would be pretty lame if I couldn’t. You don’t exactly pull your punches in the ring. Or anywhere for that matter.

Blake:Now for the final question. Yang, do you remember what you were when we first met?

Yang:.......I was 18

Veronica:Wait, what was she wearing?

Blake:Exactly what you have on right now.

Veronica:Seriously!?

Yang:But I was 18!

Blake:With no super vision, in a public area, and you had no care in the world. Were you worried about anyone making a pass at you.

Yang:No, anyone who tried something would’ve gotten beaten u-

Veronica:*smiling*

Yang:Blake! I thought you were gonna be on my side!

Blake:She might not be 18 but she’s also not alone. Plus yoy have worn far less.

Veronica:Did not think I’d actually win this argument. Thanks mom.

Blake:I’m not finished.

Veronica:Should’ve known....

Blake:Yang, can I talk to her one on one really quick?

Yang:Okay? I guess I’ll just go pack up then? *slowly walking out*

Blake:Hey...

Veronica:H-Hey?

Blake:Wanna tell me why you’re throwing a fuss about not wearing a purple top; you’re favorite top I might add?

Veronica:No particular reason. I just don’t like feeling confined.

Blake:We are your parents. We’re supposed to impose limits and you only have a couple. Clothes suggestions have never gotten under your skin before.

Veronica:Yeah well I suppose that’s changed a bit. What’s the point of designing clothes and going to school for it if I can’t diversify my style. Let people be left in awe by me.

Blake:Is Nicholas one of those people?

Veronica’s eye went wide before her face flushed a rosey red. Blake had hit a soft spot and she knew it. She stood up to walk towards her daughter who had crossed her arms and turned her head away to avoid looking directly into those amber eyes that always seemed to cut right through her defenses. That didn’t stop Veronica to allow Blake to pull her into a gentle embrace.

Blake:I’m surprised. I half expecting my arms to go right through you.

Veronica:Yeah well...I like your hugs.

Blake:And I like knowing your okay. I’m positive you’ll get more interest out of him by being nice to his sister then showing skin

Veronica:One of those things is far easier.

Blake:Please be on your best behavior.

Veronica:I always am. What happens is up to her.

Blake:Ver-

Veronica:I know. Inhales...... I know. Hopefully we’ll both be too busy to interact much and we don’t have to socialize.

Blake:That’s not really what I would call a solution. Going was your idea so I expect nothing but good news. I’ll be there when the actual tournament begins and I can’t wait to see how you added style to the arena.

Veronica:I gotta get there first. Which means I really need to pack all this up and get dressed.

Blake:Is that your way of saying “Mom please let go of me?”

Veronica:Such intelligence. No wonder you are the greatest high leader Remnant has ever seen.

Blake:Pfft whatever you know it all. *lets go*

They share one last look before Veronica grabs her purple shirt it winks. “What can I say? I looks amazing on me.” Blake playfully rolls her eyes and watches her daughter leap into the air and phase through the ceiling.

Blake:Hehe we have stairs!

Veronica:*muffled* And they look lovely!

Blake:Yang you can come back in!

Yang:*peeks around corner* Why do I always have to leave the room?

Blake:Because she thinks you’re strong and amazing like how you think of your dad. We both know how much you feel frustrated whenever he sees you get emotional.

Yang:*red* He’s seen me soft too many times. I’m grown.

Blake:Only proving my point dork. I know I probably spoil her too much but let Veronica spread her wings a bit. She rarely gets to do that around here.

Yang:*frowns* I know. I’m just worried she’ll spread those wings too far. There might not be enough room for anyone else. Atlas might have a new ruler by the time tournament is over.

Blake:Atlas’s loves Nick and Summer too much for that.

Yang:I never said she’d do it easily. I can see it now, a turf war that shook the world.

Blake:You’re so dramatic.

Yang:That’s why you married me.

Blake:Certainly wasn’t for your tea making skills. *darts off smiling*

Yang:What!? My tea is fine! Blake! *runs after her*

xxxx

“Achooo!!!”

Winter:That was some sneeze. The weather getting to you?

Summer:No. I’m not sure where that came from.

The two of them had landed down on the Mantle wall for several minutes now. Both under the wing of the summoned nevermore to avoid the light rain. Little was said between them after their embrace in the sky. Words was never Winter’s strongest skill; even after all these years. It was more comfortable watching the warm glow of the city lights in silence, but Weiss had given her a task. See if Summer was truly okay.

Her earlier actions definitely raised a few unsettling flags that Summer tried to ensure where just in Winter’s head. Still, Summer’s face, Winter couldn’t help but notice how solemn it was. The girl had already faced trials and tribulations no one should at her age. Winter took ahold her hand which made the girl jump slightly. She had completely zoned out for a moment but now looked at her aunt perplexed.

Summer:Yes auntie?

Winter:You were lost in thought. Where you having a conversation again?

Summer:No, I had enough of Shiva’s comments for one day. For a lifetime actually.

Winter:I cannot imagine what’s it’s like going through that. Especially for so long.

Summer:It’s no different than enteral monologue really, or the voice people have when they’re silently reading to themselves. Only mine has a will of its own. Not to mention the space I seem to find myself in whenever things get out of hand. I guess that part is a bit different from most people.

Winter:The mind is a complex thing to say the least.

Summer:Yeah, and mine is broken.

Winter:Your mind is not broken Summer.

Summer:Feels that way sometime. There’s still so much I don’t fully understand about what’s happening. Even after all this time.

Winter:That’s not a fault on you. Science is merely trying to catch up with such an unorthodox event. Just the other day Oscar and Qrow went off to find answers just for you. I believe even Adrian tagged along.

SummerReally!? Where are they going?

Winter:To see if anything can be learned from the Gods. If they manage to find them that is.

Summer:That’s....a tall order. All that for me? I’m the one who should be going through that trouble. It’s my problem after all.

Winter:This is something everyone has to deal with.

Summer:Oh.....sorry. *frowning*

Winter:That’s not what I-.....sigh, what I meant is we are all family. If one of us has a problem then all of us do and it’s no big deal for anyone to try and resolve it.

Summer:That doesn’t make it less frustrating for me though. I know you all care. I do, but there’s just something. Like a gap I can’t seem to close between myself and the rest of the world. Like I never really left that lake.

Winter:....Then lets go back.

Summer:W...what?

Winter:It’s somewhere down here right? Maybe going there will spark something.

Summer:An answer?

Winter:Perhaps, or closure.

Summer:Closure huh? (Maybe that is what I’m actually missing.) I will think about it. First things first, I actually came down here for a reason. Despite the bond and resources between Atlas and Mantle growing, there’s still plenty of people that still live on the streets. I tend to donate money when I can also sometimes I just go around the city to go buy food or warm clothes to whoever I find.

Winter:I had no idea you kept a close eye on these types of things. How often do you come down here.

Summer: Enough to hurt my grades it seems. You are the first person to catch me chain grinding attempts. Can’t believe you saw the worst one though. That’s embarrassing to say the least.

Winter:Attempts? Summer I know you’re smart enough to know what you’re doing is extremely dangerous. Not to mention illegal. What if I hadn’t caught you?

Summer:I would’ve just....it’s actually easier to show you. If that’s okay I mean.

Winter:*raises eyebrow* Is it safe?

Summer’s face scrunches up as she wobbles her hand up and down. “Safer than most of the things involving the cold. I can control it just fine.” Now it was Winter’s turn to look skeptical. This could potentially be a slippery slope their playing with. However, it was hard not to notice the slight excitement in Summer’s voice. “If you really can control it...then I suppose there isn’t any ha-“

“Yes!” Summer bounced a little at the thought of showing off. She removed her cloves and tugged her shirt down for more air flow. Winter stood beside her and watched carefully. Shiva and her powers over ice weren’t anything new but this pseudo form that rest in between the full transition had her attention. It was easy to tell Summer had been hard at work trying to find a way to turn this accident into something useful without succumbing to it. At first glance anyone wouldn’t notice the flickering in her eyes or the subtle color shifts in at the ends of her hair.

She watched her niece clap her hands together then pull them apart slowly as the cold itself seemed to be drawn into the middle. Ice crystals grew larger while expanding length wise. Summer had created another snowboard in no time at all. It might’ve been second nature to her fall all Winter can tell. And yet....“You sure I don’t have to worry this time about catching you?”

“Follow behind me if it makes you feel better. I’m heading towards the dust facility down here so keep up.” Summer said with a thumbs up and took a running start before leaping off the wall. The Nevermore swooped Winter and took off. Tailing Summer like instructed. Winter was quite surprised to say the least at what she witnessed. The rain around Summer turned to slush and ice that trailed underneath her. More and more swirled down by the base of the bored each way swayed it. Summer was snowboarding in midair and that was something Winter admitted to herself was worth showing off. From behind her it was still easy to till Summer was enjoying herself, yet also not quite how she usually would. The essence around her felt more...invigorating. Winter couldn’t help but wonder.....where exactly do Summer’s actions end, and Shiva’s begin?

xxxx

Gym Teacher: Mr. Schnee I appreciate your enthusiasm but don’t you think this is a bit much for you to handle?

Nick:Come on Coach Bree. Aren’t you always telling me to get my striking speed up?

Harriet: Yeah but...

The both of them stare at the giant track field at the back of the school. Easily three miles long and leaving plenty of space in the middle for games such as soccer or football. Also the giant paladin that is currently setting his laser sights on Nick.

Harriet:Beating a Paladin alone is a tall order. Why not take the regular physical exams like everyone else?

Nick:My schedule is busy as it is! I can’t waste two class periods on doing them when I can take the expedited test and pass automatically; plus it’s good training for the tournament. It’s just rubber bullets and lasers set to stun.

Harriet:With concussion grenades, thrusters for speed, it’s made of the finest metal, and designed to be on destroy Goliaths. Seniors have difficulty with this. I’ll admit you have skill but not that much skill.

Nick:You just don’t feel like writing a incident report.

Harriet:What teacher does!? Plus I don’t feel like getting yelled at if you can’t participate in the tournament. I’ll never hear the end of it.

Nick:Ugh, and after all that work I put into finishing that science test early.

Harriet:Sorry kid. Like I said, seniors have trouble with this. I actually let them team up for it.

Nick:That tough huh? Oh! If that’s the case then can I take it with others!?

Harriet:I’d might consider it but there’s a problem. No one your age is crazy enough to attempt this. Most of them are still working of the fat from winter break.

Nick:No one crazy enough. I think you underestimate Valerie.

Harriet:She already took the first half of the regular exam so good luck making her decide to switch up.

Nick:Crap, I forgot she had P.E. already. Man this sucks!

Harriet:.....I tell you what. Your sister didn’t show up today. Despite her absences....

Nick:*flinches* Hehe see about that... she ate waaaaay to much Christmas ham and-

Harriet:I’m in the loop on her reluctance to attend my class genius. Your mom called earlier to give me a heads up that I’d only be seeing you today. That girl is really started to throw a wrench in my planning.

Nick:I’m sorry....I know she feels awful about it.

Harriet:*scratches head* Doesn’t change I need numbers for her. Putting in zeros in grade books is easy. Putting them in battle info makes it extremely hard to plan proper routines that are challenging but not suicidal. But since you’re determined about risking safety anyways. If by some miracle you can convince Summer and Valerie to take this with you, then I’d feel more confident that I won’t send a student home with broken bones like last time.

Nick:Really!? Alright!

Harriet:That last part just didn’t matter to you did it?

Nick:No offense, but we are eople with gold and silver medals for combat related activities should be just fine. Tomorrow it is! Before or after school?

Harriet:I’m not waking up earlier to call an ambulance. After school or if you all so happen to have a free period around the same time.

Nick:After school it is! I got a good feeling about this!

xxxx

Valerie:You are insane...

Nick:Please!?

“SSSSSHHHHHH!!!!” Multiple students stared at the boy annoyed as they were peacefully trying to read. He had forgotten where he was for a moment and quickly hid his face behind a book before the librarian started skulking around. Valerie watched the boy’s eyes peek over the top of pages and waited for him to continue to make his case. This time in a whisper.

Nick:Pretty please?

Valerie:No. I had to spend my time in that stupid dressing room and listen to dumb girls have a contest over who was hotter. That is sanity wasted if I switch up now.

Nick:That’s ridiculous.

Valerie:Their arguing or my complaining? Choose carefully.

Nick:The fact that they’re fighting about who’s the prettiest when you’re in the room.

Valerie:Well played. Still not doing it. Why am I a requirement.

Nick:*grabs her hands* Because without you we’d be hard press to find someone else our grade to keep up with us. Only you can do it. You’re awesome. We both know that.

Now he’d done it. Valerie was never a person to care about compliments yet Nick’s were a bit different from most. Maybe it was that Arc charm at work or seeing Schnee eyes look so soft, but his compliments always felt incredibly genuine. It was irritating after all this time he was as good with words as she was. Murmurs reached her ears as more students started watching the two. More importantly, their hands. He still hadn’t let go. How long have they been like this?

Val’s face got a bit stern and she shook her hands free. She brought her right one up to thump the poor boy right in the nose to wipe that puppy dog look away.

Nick:Ow...still no?

Valerie:.......Fine, but I’m only saying fine because I’d be road kill earlier without you. Then we’re even.

Nick:You’re still thinking about that? I wasn’t gonna hold saving your life over your head by any means but if it makes you feel better then okay. We’ll be even.

Valerie:Good. I guess I can make a peace of my day completely irrelevant now.

Nick:You’re the best!!!

Liberian:Quiet!!!

Nick:Whoops! I should go. Thanks again!

Valerie:Sure th-

Nicholas went in and hugged her fast before pulling back and showing a gleeful grinn. Before she could say anything he was running off out of the library and more importantly, the studying students. Some of them turned their attention to her so at least she could feel their frustration. Even the Liberian shot of look of displeasure which only increased the embarrassment on her face. She had no choice but to bury herself into the text book she had been reading before things got loud. It did not stop the feeling of them staring behind it, or her face from turning red.

Valerie:(Damn it Nicholas. I’m totally getting you back for this somehow!)

xxxx

Yang:*tapping her foot* (I swear this girl) Veronica in a second I’m just gonna lea-

“I’m ready!” The girl came sliding into view with her luggage in hand. Yang couldn’t help but smile as it seemed common ground between them was found. Her daughter wore black flats accompanied with black thigh high socks and the skirt mentioned from earlier. A gap between the two showed some skin but not crazy in the slightest. The purple long sleeve shirt was worn with pride and Yang couldn’t help but notice Veronica had taken the time to make hair a little crinklly.

She paid no mind to her mother as she strutted passed her mom with her tail pulling her luggage along. Veronica was too busy already opening up her journal and going over unfinished designs.

Veronica:Let’s get to it Ma. Ship won’t wait forever right?

Yang:For your sake I hope you don’t have to kick anyone.

Veronica:Already got it covered. A little thing called compression shorts. It’s hard to tell because I’m not only wearing them. Thought it should go underneath something.

Yang:I’m gonna have to deal with that the whole ride huh?

Veronica:Oh yeah. *closes door*

Part 8

[sugatsby]

Hole-and-Corner

Group: GOT7 Pairing: Choi Youngjae x Reader Rating: Angst | Fluff Prompt: But doctor’s were meant to help people, right? AU: Mafia!AU Word count: 15,5K

Warnings: swearing | violence | mentions of blood

“I’m leaving!”

“Okay! See you later!” your roommate yelled back from behind her bedroom door. She was still running around, getting ready for the day. You heard shuffling and rummaging around. At some point you heard something crash to the floor. You shook your head. Even though she’s always up before you, you were always the first to leave to leave the apartment.

Swinging the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you snatched your set of keys from the small table in the hall and made your way downstairs. Your apartment building was small, but pretty cosy. It was also pretty close to the campus, which was one of the reasons you decided on moving in here during your first year. Also, you needed to get as far away from your family as possible. That didn’t really turn out the way you wanted it to when you fell in love with the university in the same city. But at least you lived on opposite sides of town now, barely crossing paths.

As you made your way down the street, you soaked in the warmth of the sun. Even after the meteorological start of this year’s spring season, you hadn’t seen much else than grey clouds lately, so you welcomed the sight of some bright blues. Today was going to be a good day.

You plugged your headphones into your phone while simultaneously scrolling through your playlists. You were so engrossed in looking for one of your favourite songs, you didn’t notice the figure ahead. It was only when you crashed your shoulder against the person that you glanced up.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you offered. “Guess I shouldn’t be looking at my phone while walking.” You tried to laugh it off.

The brunette you bumped into, however, didn’t seem to find it funny. The scowl on his face was a dead giveaway.

“Er… I-I really am sorry,” you stammered. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”

The serious frown on the man’s face didn’t budge. And neither did he. Your smile faltered when you realised he didn’t seem so forgiving.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going,” you said, trying to step around him and remove yourself from the situation. But the man put himself in your path. “I’m sorry, but I really need to-”

Before you were able to finish your sentence, you felt another presence, arms coming over you from behind. One grabbed you across the shoulders to hold you in place. The other moved in front of your face, a cloth getting pressed against your nose and mouth. You struggled, trying to break free. Your phone slipped through your fingers and crashed to the pavement. Your cries got muffled by the piece of fabric and no one else seemed to be around to help you. A sweet, slightly-chemical smell invaded your senses, and that’s when you realised that this situation was really, really bad.

You tried to hold your breath, not wanting to inhale any of the chemicals, but struggling took effort. Your eyelids started to grow heavy as you breathed in the nauseating scent, your limbs turned to jelly, and your consciousness started to fade. The last thing you heard was a car screeching to a halt near the sidewalk and its sliding door opening before everything turned dark.

You struggled to open your eyes. A groan escaped your lips. It felt like you’d been hit by a truck. You were pretty sure your tailbone was bruised by the way your behind was feeling. You tried to move your neck and shoulders, trying to get the strain off of them, but your arms, awkwardly bend behind your back, didn’t give. Your eyes were now wide open.

“Fuck.” Your voice was a mere whisper, your words getting swallowed by the darkness of the space around you. You tried to wriggle around, feeling nothing but rough concrete around you. This was not good. Not good at all!

You tried not to panic, but you couldn’t help it. A sob escaped your parched lips and your shoulders started to shake against the coarse wall you’d been propped up against. While the tears began to drip down your cheeks, you failed to notice the approaching footsteps on the opposite side of the room. A door swung open, a beam of light falling into the room. The contrast against the dark room blinding, you squinted your eyes against the brightness poured onto your slumped figure. A shadowy silhouette made its way into the room, its heavy footsteps echoing against the walls before a mocking voice called out.

“I see daddy’s girl has awakened…”

“Good,” another voice followed. One shadow became two as the men further entered the room. “I have some questions for her.”

The latter passed the other male before squatting down in front of you. “Now,” he began, his hand reaching outward to brush your damp cheek. “We want to know where your dad is. And we thought that maybe you would be so kind to help.”

His voice sounded sickly sweet, his tone mimicking his actions. However, you weren’t fooled. His gestures only added to your discomfort. “My dad’s dead,” you stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As soon as those words left your lips, your captor’s eyes turned into menacing slits. And before you even registered what his intentions were, your head got pulled back, the man’s hand finding purchase in the hair at the nape of your neck. It didn’t hurt, but the awkward angle only put more strain on the muscles that were already sore.

“Don’t lie to me, princess. He’s very much alive, taunting me after stealing from me.” You can hear the venom dripping from his words. There was cold rage in his eyes. “Your stepdad has been running from us long enough. I want my money back. Now, where is he?”

The man dug his fingers into the sides of your jaw, making you look at him. The pain made you flinch. “I don’t know,” you sobbed. “I haven’t spoken to that man in years. I don’t even know if he still lives there!”

“Lives where?” the man sneered, his fingers pressing into the bruises that were already forming along your cheeks.

“O-on the east side of town…”

Finally the grip on your jaw fell away and the man straightened up. “Jinyoung. Give me the phone,” he ordered, his hand beckoning his partner impatiently.

The man behind him, Jinyoung, stepped forward and placed a black device in his hand. He fumbled with the phone and spoke again, his gaze not moving from the object in his hands.

“Now, you will tell me the address and we’re gonna send him some pictures. I guess he forgot who he’s dealing with.” He held up the phone, an ominous smirk on his face. “Maybe this will serve as a reminder,” he said before the shutter went off, the sound echoing against the walls.

You didn’t know for how long you’d been lying in the same position. Everything was stiff. Everything hurt. Wriggling around when you were still bound had caused the twine of your restraints to cut into the skin of your wrists and for the rough cement of the floor to scrape your bare arms to the point of drawing blood. The darkness of the room had stolen away any notion of time. You felt empty. Alone in the shadows. By now you had stopped struggling. It only brought pain, and you were never going to get out of here on your own. Your captors had probably thought your stepdad would come running, like a dog with its tail between its legs, doing whatever he could to get you out of there. But you knew that’s not how he was.

The man was stern and harsh, the epitome of the crime boss JB had told you he supposedly was. He had never liked you much. Your mother had fallen for him pretty quickly after your father died. You’d always thought that it was her way of coping with things. Doyun wasn’t good for her, however. At first you thought he was just under a lot of stress from his job but, as time progressed, you found out more and more about how obsessed he was with power and control. Standing at the head of his own company wasn’t enough for him, so he took his job home.

Your mother was still oblivious to it all, though. You had tried to convince her that her relationship with him wasn’t okay, but she turned a blind eye, accepting the situation. You guess the money had something to do with it. However, you couldn’t deal with him, even when the house was big enough to avoid him most of the time. You decided to choose for yourself, moved out, and never looked back.

Doyun didn’t give a damn about you. But these people didn’t know that. They probably thought that knocking on daddy’s door with you as leverage would be an easy way to get their money. Little did they know that he couldn’t care less if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere. A kidnapping would most likely not change his mind.

You had a glimmer of hope that the message might reach your mother first, but even if it did, you’d doubt she would act on it. She had changed and you wondered if she would care enough to do anything.

You felt numb, forgotten and alone. Broken. The only sliver of light in your darkness was the man that came into the room two times a day – you guessed without any sense of time – to feed you. At first, you shied away from him, afraid to have someone lay their hands on you once again. You thought perhaps he had felt your discomfort and kept silent. He didn’t do anything besides quietly putting down his tray in front of you before walking off, leaving you alone again.

You hadn’t touched the food the first couple of times he had come by, afraid it was laced with something. After not eating for what seemed like days, he had finally spoken up.

“You should eat,” he said.

His voice was gentle, and you felt yourself thinking that it fit him. Everything about him was the total opposite of the man you encountered that first day. The young man with kind eyes hadn’t once tried to lay a hand on you without your permission. He had continuously asked to take a look at your bruises and cuts. When you finally let him, he had examined them carefully, each touch soft and soothing. He was the one that undid your ties.

“Wouldn’t want your hands to fall off,” he explained.

You were surprised to learn that Youngjae – that was his name – was a doctor. A medic. A person that helped people for a living. He puzzled you. How would a person like that end up… here? But, you were glad to have him, as he was the only friendly face around lately.

It seemed like time crawled, although you wouldn’t know. You’d been staring into the dark void for quite some time. You hadn’t heard anything from the outside world. Did they send the message to your stepdad? Did it arrive? Did they even find him? Did anyone else realise you were missing?

The longer you laid there, staring at the direction of the door, the slimmer you felt your chances of getting out of there alive becoming. You felt hopeless.

A creak from the door one day made you look up. It was Youngjae with his usual tray of food and water. He silently made his way over and placed the tray on the floor. You didn’t make any move to get up, too forlorn to even lift a finger.

Youngjae tilted his head sideways, looking at you with pity. “You have to eat, ___”

You kept staring ahead, your lips pressed together in a straight line. When you still didn’t make any move to sit up, Youngjae lifted you up into a seating position, his hands tucked underneath your arms. When he let go, your arms dropped at your sides like dead weight.

“Come on, ___. Eat,” Youngjae insisted, scooping up some of the porridge onto a spoon before bringing it to your lips.

That’s when your eyes started to glisten and tears welled up in your eyes, the slightest act of kindness breaking your façade. “It won’t work, you know…” Your voice cracked. “He won’t pay.”

The young man looked up, concerned. He put the spoon down onto the plate next to him, before wiping away a tear from your cheek.

“I’m gonna be here forever, aren’t I?” you sobbed. “Why don’t you just kill me now and be done with it?! Why-” Your voice cracked and the tears came streaming down your face, sobs wracking your body.

Youngjae was slightly taken aback by the desperation in your voice, but immediately reacted by pulling you into a warm hug. One of his hands found purchase on the back of your head while the other pressed soothing circles onto your lower back. You found comfort in the firmness of his hold and the sound of his heart beating against the inside of his chest. You let it all out.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sniffed. “I can’t.”

“Shh…” He whispered soothing words against the shell of your ear. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

You didn’t believe him. If these people were capable of kidnapping and blackmailing, surely murder wouldn’t be far down on that list either.

You had cried onto Youngjae’s shoulder until you couldn’t cry anymore. Your body was still shaking when he left, having left the tray of food on the ground beside you. You couldn’t eat. You must have been down there for at least a week and nobody had made a move to save you. Your hope – and will for that matter – to get out of there alive had started crumbling more and more.

It didn’t take long for the door to open again after Youngjae left. An hour maybe? You weren’t sure.

“___?” Youngjae’s voice quietly called out. But you didn’t respond. He walked into the room further before holding out a hand. “Do you think you can walk?”

Youngjae had let you outside. The room in which you were held captive seemed to be a part of some type of storage building. The square building was merely part of the grounds that held an even bigger building.

Facing that building, it looked scary and striking, the grey bricks contrasting with the oranges and pinks of the evening sky. But as soon as you were let inside, Youngjae’s hand continuously in contact with your upper arm, you were pleasantly surprised. The walls in the hallways were painted a pinkish beige, gold accents lining the wooden details. You found yourself gaping at the sophistication of the interior of the rooms you passed. What was this place? A mansion?

As it turned out, the answer to that question was yes. Yes, it was.

With Youngjae’s help, you managed to climb up two flights of a dark oaken staircase before he lead  you to a beautifully and delicately decorated bathroom.

“Take your time to freshen up. You’ll feel better afterwards,” he explained with a tender smile before closing the door behind him, leaving you to stand in the middle of the luxurious lavatory.

Now what?

You moved toward the sink, placing your hands on the cold marble. There was a person standing in front of you, staring right back at you through the mirror. She didn’t seem like your usual self, the image unrecognisable. Her face was gaunt, and her complexion pale. Anyone could guess how little she’d been sleeping by the purple circles under her eyes. The bruises on the side of her face had faded into a disgusting green-yellow colour. You closed your eyes, unable to look yourself in the eyes anymore.

A sigh escaped. When Youngjae had reached out his hand to you, you had thought that maybe he’d pitied you enough for him to let you go. But when the mansion came into view and he brought you inside, you knew you had gotten your hopes up.

This entire situation was unexpected. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about making a run for it. The only issue: Youngjae was right outside. And there was this house... There might be others walking around, ready to catch you in the act. You would be much worse off then.

You let out another sigh. You supposed you might as well use this opportunity to clean yourself up like Youngjae had proposed.

An unfamiliar voice on the other side of the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but you knew that there was something going on when Youngjae responded.

“I’ll be right there.” Then he knocked on the door. “___, will you be okay for a minute? I’ll be right back.” Then his footsteps moved away, the thud of each step on the carpet sounding softer than the one before.

It was as if your prayers had been heard. This was your chance! This was your one shot to escape.

You straightened up and made your way to the door, your ears strained. But everything seemed quiet. You reached out for the door handle, but you could not bring yourself to push it down. You thought of Youngjae and how he had tried to make you feel as comfortable as possible. He had been so nice, considering the circumstances and as far as kidnappers go. He was gentle and caring. You shook your head. No, this was your chance. If no one was gonna save you, you might as well do it yourself. You had nothing to lose.

You shot a quick prayer and pushed the handle down. The door opened without struggle, and as you peaked your head out the door, the hallway seemed empty. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Next step, and the most difficult one, was getting downstairs and out of this house without being seen.

The floorboards underneath the carpet creaked as you placed one foot over the threshold. You tried to hold back your curses, as it would draw attention to your escape. As quietly as the old, wooden floor let you, you started to make your way down the hallway.

You were about halfway down the long hallway when you heard voices. You froze, too afraid to take another step and give yourself away. The voices grew louder, which meant the people these voices belonged to were getting closer as well. You told yourself to make a break for it. However, your legs didn’t want to cooperate. Grounded to the floor, your legs were shaking out of fear or simply out of fatigue. It might as well have been a combination of both.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

When a heavy voice called out to you, your legs were finally moving. It took a lot of effort, but you were running.

“Hey!”

With the sound of heavy footsteps on the carpet behind you, your heart rate spiked. You needed to get out of here!

You dug through your memories, trying to remember which way you came. Good thing you were good at directions. The footsteps were coming closer, your fear of getting caught reaching a new high. Just past this corner was the main staircase, you remembered. Just a little bit more…

The staircase was in sight when you felt your legs fail you. No! Not now!

But you were exhausted and your legs were shaking, the situation had taken its toll on your body. Your muscles totally seized up when you arrived at the top of the old staircase. Unable to catch yourself with a next step forward, you felt gravity pull you down. With the momentum you built up from running, you toppled forward.

The first thing you felt was a pop in your ankle, which bended the wrong way after a failed attempt of trying to catch yourself, followed by a throbbing pain. The thump you felt almost directly after came from your knee meeting one of the steps forcefully. After that, however, your head connected with the edge of another and, before your body was even halfway down the staircase, you got knocked out cold.

You woke up with a throbbing pain in your head, your eyelids heavy. You frowned. Ugh. Not again…

You blinked, trying to adjust to the brightness, before the shadow of a person started to take shape above you.

“Good. You’re awake,” a familiar voice murmured.

“Youngjae?” you croaked.

“Yes,” he said when your vision cleared. “I’m here. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

He managed a sympathetic smile. “I can imagine. You made quite the nosedive.” He moved to grab something from behind him. You found out a second later the object he grabbed was a flashlight as he waved it in front of your face. “Look at me.”

You did. Youngjae eyes looked over you intently. You ended up admiring him from up close, despite the bright light shining into each of your eyes. His lashes were dark and long, perfectly surrounding his slightly slanted eyes. His eyes were small, but beautiful nonetheless with their rich brown irises. Under one of his eyes you discovered a freckle for the first time, the light in the room revealing the small details you hadn’t been able to see in the darkness in which you first met.

“You don’t seem to have sustained a concussion,” he said, shaking you out of your reverie. Then he drew away, straightening up. “Other than a sprained ankle and some bruising, you’re alright. I expect your headache to be gone by the end of the day, but prepare to feel a little stiff over the next few days.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, the only thought whirling in your mind being your way out being compromised. You failed. And with a swollen ankle you most certainly wouldn’t be able to try it again anytime soon. You were done for. A tear made its way past your lashes when you realised you fucked up your only chance of getting your freedom back.

“I’m never getting out of here, am I? I might as well be dead…” Your voice sounded fragile, broken, all hope lost.

The doctor placed his hand on top of yours, the action calming. “For now just get some rest, okay?” His other hand cupped your cheek before he leaned in, his breath fanning your cheek. “You’re gonna be fine,” he whispered before you feel his soft lips on the corner of your mouth. “I promise.”

A couple of days later, there was still no news about your fate. You had been confined to one of the rooms in the house. You had tried to leave the room once, but you were immediately send back by the man keeping guard outside your door. You figured they considered you a flight risk even though Youngjae kept insisting it was because he needed to make sure you got enough rest.

The time you spent in your room was divided between spending time with Youngjae and thinking. You had come to find Youngjae’s presence soothing. He was the sole reason you were able to hold onto your sanity all this time. But there was still no news from home. You were grateful for Youngjae, you really were. But you had to take matters into your own hands again. You just needed to approach it differently. The remainder of the time you had spent thinking, brooding over a plan to get yourself out of here. Winging it clearly didn’t get you very far last time.

One morning you were woken up with the request to go downstairs. The young man in front of your door, however, told you that it was more of an order than a suggestion, so you didn’t dare to keep whoever was expecting you waiting.

While making your way down the dreaded staircase, your escort right beside you, you tried to figure out what was going on. “What’s happening? Where are you taking me?”

But he didn’t answer, his stoic expression unchanging. The man was tall and slim. You wouldn’t think him to be a very strong opponent in a fight, but you weren’t willing to find out. A serious frown marred his face, but his features seemed boyish to you. He was definitely the youngest person you’ve encountered here so far.

You let out a disappointed sigh at his lack of an answer. From the corner of your eye you noticed his stern façade crack a little. It seemed like some of these men weren’t completely immune to emotions…

At the bottom of the staircase, he took you along another hallway. It was similar than the ones you’d walked – or ran – down before. It was less detailed and more muted, the colour of the walls a little darker. You were still looking around, fidgeting, when all of a sudden you bumped into a solid form.

“Oh, sorry,” you said.

Your escort had stopped walking, halting in front of a door. He scoffed and shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips, but he still kept his lips sealed. He knocked on the door in front of him before entering.

Your heart was pounding, reverberating in your throat, but you felt obligated to follow. Before you sat the man you met that dreaded first day. He sat behind his desk, looking up from his work as you made your way in.

“JB, she’s here,” the man beside you spoke.

“Thank you, Yugyeom. You can go now.” The man dismissed him with a wave of his hand before letting his gaze fall onto you. “So,” he spoke, while moving up from his seat. “What am I going to do with you?”

The man called JB moved around his desk, slow and calculated steps making your heart beat faster. Even though you were not tied up and sprawled across a concrete floor, he still didn’t seem less scary. He was intimidating and each and every atom in the air around you buzzed because of it, pressing down on you.

The man leaned back against the wooden frame, a hand in his trouser pocket. “As you may have noticed, we haven’t received any response from your family.”

You couldn’t help but wince a little, even though you tried so hard to keep your face as emotionless as possible. The words didn’t come as a surprise, but the realisation that there was no one out there to help you still hurt.

The man looked at his shoes. “This simply won’t do.” He shook his head disapprovingly, before once again fixing his intense gaze on you. “I’m gonna need my money back, ___.”

You felt the blood rushing in your temples at his threatening statement. You were so on edge that you winced when he moved to straighten up before starting to pace around the room unhurriedly. The heels of his designer shoes clanking on the floor boards were deafening in the heavy silence hanging in the office. And with each clang your demise seemed to draw nearer.

He stepped closer before bending down to your height. His voice was a whisper, insistent and stern. “I want my money, and you’re gonna help me get it.”

His menacing voice made a chill run up your spine. You were about to answer him with a shaky voice, but – gladly – you got interrupted by the door slamming against the wall.

“What are you doing?”

Youngjae’s voice came as a surprise for both you and JB, causing the latter to move away slowly, giving you space to breathe again.

“Why is she here?” Youngjae continued, slightly irritated.

JB shrugged. “I’m trying to strike a deal with her. Since her daddy doesn’t respond, we need to come up with another way to get our money back. And she’s gonna earn it for us.”

“No,” the young medic simply stated, shocking both you and JB. Was it okay for him to talk to JB like that? Wasn’t he like… his boss?

“No?” JB asked mockingly.

“No. She’s not going to partake in any of this.” There was a fire in his eyes that left his boss at a loss of words. “I won’t let her-”

“I’ll do it,” you cut him off.

“What?” Youngjae exclaimed.

Before letting him get another word in, you continued. “On my terms.”

“Well,” JB mused. “The girl’s got spunk.” He walked back to his desk, taking a seat behind it. “Talk to me, girl.”

“___, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Youngjae said, placing his hand on your arm as if trying to stop you.

You ignored him and took a deep breath to gather your courage. You had enough time to think about the next step when you were confided to your room. And now it was the time to put that plan into action. “I don’t know what you had planned for me, but I’m sure I have a better way of getting us both what we want.”

JB’s eyes sparkled at your words, a mixture of surprise and mischief. Good, you thought. He’s interested.

“You’re going to let me go and I’ll make sure you get your money.”

The boss started to laugh. It wasn’t a humorous laugh. Instead, the sound caused the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end. But as quickly as it came, it subsided and the ominous frown was back on his face. “Don’t take me for a fool, girl. I’m not gonna let you simply walk out of here.”

“Not even if I promise to bring Doyun down.” Your daring offer met silence. JB’s eyes were squinted, out of suspicion or curiosity you couldn’t tell. “Believe me, I hate Doyun as much as you do right now. I want him to pay.” There had been a determination in your eyes that hadn’t been there ever since you ended up in this nightmare.

“But, ___-” Youngjae objected. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!”

“I’ve got an idea. Now,” you turned back to JB. “Do you still want to hear the rest?” The man in question nodded, giving you permission to elaborate. “So, you are going to let me go and I’m going home. I’ll snoop around. When I find something interesting, I’ll report back. You can use this information for an ambush, or whatever you guys do when you want to get back at your enemies.”

It was silent in the office when you finished speaking. JB seemed to be mulling all of it over when you looked at him expectantly. The man next to you looked at you in disbelief before turning to the man behind the desk, a questioning look in his eyes.

Then, JB’s voice cut through the silence. “Okay.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Youngjae displayed a similar reaction, probably relieved you weren’t losing your head yet.

“However,” JB leaned forward in his chair, his tone menacing. “one word about us, one wrong action, and you’re mine.”

You didn’t know what JB had in store for you if you messed up, but you weren’t planning on finding out. Youngjae had tried to talk you out of what you were about to do, but it was too late to turn back now. You were adamant on taking Doyun down, especially after all you had to go through at his expense.

Youngjae had expressed his worry in more ways than one. He tried to warn you of JB, of your stepdad, that it was too dangerous. He even tried to postpone everything by telling you weren’t ready to go out yet with your injuries. But you wouldn’t listen to him. And now you were here, in front of the mansion you’d called home before going to university. You hadn’t lived here for long, not standing the person you had to live there with. It was a beautiful house, you had to give Doyun that. But the more you looked at it, the more the beauty got overshadowed by the amount of bad memories you had of your mother’s abusive relationship.

You let out a breath, gathering the courage to make your presence known. You didn’t quite know who knew about your situation or if there was anyone who had noticed you were missing. Doyun had to have been one of the few however. The gang had send him multiple messages to try and get him to act, to provoke him, but probably none of them had seemed to be worth responding to. You and the guys had agreed you would tell him you had escaped by yourself somehow, but for the general public, you had just come back from an impromptu road trip with your friends from uni.

You pressed the right buttons on the outer gates of the property and within five seconds, the buzz of the gates being opened rung out. You made your way inside, slightly apprehensive. You were going to have to lie to your mother. You never liked lying, but it was for a good cause, at least that was what you kept telling yourself.

Before you were able to walk all the way to the mansion’s giant front doors, they swung open, your mother appearing in the opening before running outside to envelop you in a hug.

“___! Oh my god! What-” She pulled away, looking you in the eyes. “Where have you been? We were so worried!”

You were unable to answer when she tightly squeezed you against her again. We? Yeah, right.

Over your mother’s shoulder, you could see Doyun appearing on the top of the small staircase outside. Never in your life could you have imagined that face belonged to a worried man. He had a disgruntled frown on his face. Everything about him told you he wasn’t expecting this. You could have guessed: the man never liked it when things happened out of his control.

You squinted your eyes at him, not afraid to show your anger toward him. You needed to talk.

“I’m okay, mom,” you said, patting her on the back. “I just got back from a road trip with my friends.”

Your mother pulled back. “You were what?! We thought something happened to you!”

“I’m sorry,” you looked down, remembering the story. “It all just was very spontaneous and I forgot to tell you, and then my phone died… I’m so sorry.” You were truly sorry. Just not for the reason she thought you were.

“Well…” she let out a tired sigh. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Let’s go inside.”

With her hand on the small of your back, you passed Doyun on your way inside the house, a strict expression on his face. You remembered that face. It was the face he made before another one of his guards got replaced by another. You made sure to look him in the eye, unwavering.

When your mother had finally calmed down and made her way out of the living room, you were finally able to confront Doyun. However, you didn’t have to breach the subject yourself: he did it for you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His eyes were still piercing, the muscles in his jaw rigid. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

You scoffed, incredulous. “Oh, yeah. I know. It’s a good thing I know how to fetch for myself, because you certainly didn’t help anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so you have no idea about what I had to go through this last two weeks?” This time you felt your anger rise, the boiling point in sight. “No ransom notes? No photos on your doorstep?”

Doyun shook his head calmly. “I only found out about what happened two days ago. Your mother insisted that something was wrong. I tried to figure out a way to get you out of there, but here you are now.”

Your eyes crinkled in anger. “And why exactly didn’t you tell mom about this?”

He let out a content sigh before answering, like he expected your question. “I guess for the exact same reason you didn’t tell her the truth either. I didn’t want to worry her.” Then he leaned forward, his elbows pressing down on his thighs. “Now, tell me. How did you manage to get out of there? Money? Sex?” Doyun looked at you, judging, scrutinising.

“I escaped,” you stated. Two could play this game of lying to the other person’s face. “They’re probably still looking for me. That’s why I need to stay here.”

Doyun still hadn’t moved a muscle, disdain and distrust lining his harsh features. You both knew the other was lying, but none of you said a word. A tense silence settled between you until your mother walked back into the room, followed by the smell of herbal tea.

Your mother was more than happy to take you back in the house for a little while. Her nature of caretaker emerging after your so-called spontaneous trip, she almost insisted you’d stay at the mansion for a while. Thankfully, she still didn’t refrain from running her own errands, leaving the house in your capable hands. Like today.

With both your mother and Doyun out of the house, the building and some of its very interesting rooms were all yours to explore. Carefully avoiding the staff that were still working in the mansion, you were able to slip into Doyun’s office. As soon as you closed the door behind you, you took a look around the interior of the room. You shook your head at the supposed grandeur. The room was spacious, however cluttered with obnoxiously expensive-looking furniture.

When you made your way further into the room, the first thing that caught your eye was the portrait on the wall behind the desk. It showed a younger Doyun sitting on chair with, what you presumed, were his dad and grandfather standing behind him. The painting of the three stern-looking men was surrounded by a garish golden frame.

“Of course there’s an oil painting,” you sighed.

Shaking your head you made your way to the expensive-looking wooden desk. You let your fingers rest on the surface as you walked around it. The wood was stained with a dark varnish, the intricate grains visible through the shine. Most of the desk was empty, apart from a few bits and bobs and a small stack of paperwork. It would have been foolish to have left important papers laying around on his desk, but you still crossed your fingers and hoped for the best as you sat down and leafed through the pile.

As you browsed, you kept your ears strained. You were new to the world of sneaking around, however with your recent experiences in mind, you knew that you had to be on your guard. You weren’t about to find out what happened to people that snuck around in a mob boss’ office. You tried to shake off those thoughts while working a little faster.

Just like you expected, the papers on top of the desk were very normal and perfectly legal. You doubted JB would find the mansion’s electricity bills very useful. You let out a sigh and stood up with the intention of going over to the filing cabinet when you heard a cheerful whistle down the hall. Your heart rate spiked as you froze.

Shit. Move, ___, move!

You forced yourself to move and hide. You wormed your way in between the desk and its giant, coordinating leather chair. The sound of the footsteps grew louder, signalling the person’s proximity to the door. You held your breath, your heart in your throat, when the footsteps slowed in front of the door. Only when you heard the sound of shoes hitting the carpet again, moving away from you, you dared to breathe.

Okay, we’re done for today!, you thought. This is how far it’s gonna get!

You quickly emerged from below the desk before looking around and making sure to leave everything the way you found it. As a precautionary measure you waited a couple of minutes more, pressing your ear to the door for any more sounds. When the coast was clear you made your way back to your old bedroom as silently as possible.

You tried to make the trips down to Doyun’s office as short as possible, not willing to risk getting caught. Each time, you made sure to report the developments, or lack thereof, to Youngjae. Your findings left you disappointed and guilty as you were sure JB wasn’t very happy about it, but Youngjae reassured you that it didn’t matter, that you’d just have to be patient, insisting that your safety was the most important factor. As for the data, your assumptions proved to be right: your stepdad wasn’t a complete idiot. Important information wasn’t locked away in his drawers and binders, or carelessly strewn across the office. In this era, a laptop would provide to be a more suitable holder of secrets. However, that laptop was nowhere in sight, always being kept safe by its owner.

A few days later, after coming up with nothing, and JB insisting you should do something about it, you shot a quick prayer and snuck your way into Doyun’s quarters once again. Only this time there was something else on the desk than his usual frills. It was as if the gods had looked upon your desperate attempts to comb through meaningless papers and files, and had finally answered your prayers: Doyun had forgotten his laptop, leaving it right before your prying eyes.

Not wanting to throw away this opportunity, you made your way over to the desk as quickly as possible, ready to look into whatever the man was hiding on the device. It was only when you stumbled upon a login screen that you started to panic a little. Password protection. Of course.

You racked your brain, desperate to find the answer to the question presented in front of you. Think, ___, think.

You pressed in the five numbers most familiar to you, praying he was one of those people that used the same password for everything. Within a few seconds, instead of the feared ‘failed login’ screen, a wallpaper appeared. You couldn’t help but let out a surprised snicker. Yes! Knowing the password to the entrance gates never came in this handy.

Listening around for unexpected noises, you fumbled around for your phone. Browsing around the laptop aimlessly would only eat away at the little time you had. Some kind of lead might’ve been helpful at this moment.

“___?” Youngjae’s voice sounded through your phone’s speaker. “How are you doing? Everything alright?” The worry in his voice tugged at your heartstrings a little, making you smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you whispered, before hurriedly continuing with the matter at hand. “I just need a little bit more info on what kind of info I’m supposed to be looking for. I just broke into Doyun’s laptop.”

“Oh,” he exclaimed, admittingly impressed. “Right.”

“I just need a little help navigating a crime boss’ laptop. I don’t really have a lot of experience in hiding this type of intel, you know. And I figured you might be able to help me.”

The male on the other end of the line spoke aloud, repeating what you’re asking to somebody else in the distance before letting out a hum. “Try to open up some of his work-related files. He might hide some important documents there.”

Moving your phone to your other ear, you used your free hand to browse through the different programmes on the laptop. A lot of the files seemed to be files you might harbour on your own computer. Except for that one file, obviously loaded with porn, everything seemed to be void of top secret documents. You didn’t want to know what kind of secrets were hidden away in there, though.

“I don’t know, Youngjae. It seems like everything checks out. No weird or suspicious files, or anything.”

Another hum. “Then try opening up his email. Information needs to be send to him somehow.”

You opened up his inbox, determined to find at least something of use. Your eyes skimmed over different email addresses and subjects until you finally stumbled across something promising. It was an email about a certain ‘transaction’. Your curiosity and desperation reaching a peak, you hurriedly read your way through the cryptic email.

“…tomorrow…”

“What?” Youngjae’s voice sounded in your ear, reminding you of the phone you’ve been pressing against your head the whole time.

“There’s something happening tomorrow,” you explained. “It’s an email from what seems like a business partner of some sorts. It says there’s going to be some kind of transaction or deal tomorrow night.”

“What? Where? Does it say anything about a location?”

You were about to answer Youngjae when a noise came from the other side of the door. You started to panic, quickly putting down your phone and logging off from the laptop. You needed to get out of here, now!

It wasn’t until you were walking down the hallway that you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. No one had seemed to see you exit the office, but of course you could never be too safe. You had hurried upstairs, quickly closing the door behind you to block yourself from anyone’s scrutiny.

This had to have gone okay, right? You didn’t see anyone on the way up here. This went well. Everything was gonna be fine.

You leaned against the door, putting your hand on top of your heart in an attempt to calm it down. Your breathing had gotten heavy. You felt like you’d been running a marathon. It took a few minutes to catch your breath again. But just as relief started to take over, a sound you were unable to place in your current state of mind caught you off guard. You jumped. Then you looked down at the source: the phone still clutched between your fingers.

Right. Youngjae!

Your shaking hands fumbled with the device, trying to get a proper hold on it to press the green icon and move it to your ear. “Yeah,” you breathed.

“___! Are you okay? What happened?” Youngjae once again sounded concerned.

“I’m fine,” you said. “I thought I heard something, so I ran.”

“Did someone see you? Did you get caught?” Again, unease showed through the words coming from the phone.

“No, I don’t think so. I do need to show you something, though. Can we meet up somewhere?”

An affirming answer came from the other end of the line. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit!”

You were about to hang up when Youngjae interrupted. “Oh, and ___?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

You shook your head, a small smile creeping up on you. It wasn’t the time to feel giddy at all, but you couldn’t help it. Youngjae’s worry and concern for you caused your heart flutter and a warm, pleasant feeling to spread all through your insides.

“I will,” you whispered.

Arriving at the address on your phone, you couldn’t help but doubt yourself. Was this the right place?

It seemed like Youngjae had send you to an old, run-down bar. It looked like it was closed, which was logical: it being 11 AM and all. Starting to wonder what to do next, your nervous pacing got interrupted by a familiar calling of your name. You turned around and came to face the exact man you had wanted to see ever since you escaped your stepdad’s office. It seemed like a while ago, even though it happened just this morning. But the solace you found in Youngjae’s eyes, filled you with relief and immediately lifted your spirits.

After asking if you were alright, Youngjae took you inside the hoary bar and led you to one of the tables in the back, away from any of the grimy windows. With JB and Jinyoung already seated on one end, you and Youngjae carefully sat down opposite them. Great, you thought. The two scariest gangsters decided to join you.

As if sensing your apprehension, Youngjae moved closer unconsciously. You were extremely grateful for his presence, feeling instantly protected and more at ease. Your gaze moved to the two men in front of you, both answering with a similar, cold glare. That was when the older of the two spoke up.

“I heard you found something.” His monotonous voice was accompanied by an expectant raise of the eyebrow.

“Erm, yeah,” you said. “I guess so.”

“Well… What did you find?” JB’s patience apparently already started to wear thin in the mere beginning of conversations.

“Right,” you started before fishing your phone out of your jacket’s pocket. You scrolled through your camera roll. “So, I found this email on his laptop,” you said, handing over your phone to the man opposite you. “It appears to be talking about some kind of shady deal.”

JB’s eyes moved across the screen quickly. He kept quiet, so you continued.

“It was the only clue I could find. I’m guessing he forgot to delete this email by accident, because the rest of his files didn’t say anything unusual. I got really lucky this time. He doesn’t normally seem this sloppy.”

“Hmm.” JB’s face took on a brooding expression. After a second, he handed the phone to Jinyoung, who made sure to send a copy of the pictures to his own phone.

“So?” you mused. “Did I manage to bring you something useful?”

One of the corners of JB’s lips tugged up, his cold face transforming into something a little bit more sinister. “I guess we can work with this.”

An unexpectant sense of gaiety started to grow among your insides and a smile made its way to your lips. You looked over to Youngjae with a strange sense of pride. You actually came up with something helpful. For a gang. Which wasn’t ideal. But it all felt kind of… exciting.

It was the day after your top secret meeting when you found yourself lounging around in the living room. It was the first day that you hadn’t been sneaking around in the house, and it felt… boring. The snooping had almost caused several heart attacks, but with nothing much else to do, besides going to class some days, you kind of missed it.

Before you left yesterday, JB had informed you he didn’t have much use for you right now. It was their turn now and you had to stand back. Lying on the couch, you couldn’t help but wonder what was supposed to go down, what they were involved in. Were the gang going to interfere with some type of arms deal? Or were they involved in drugs too? It was almost certainly going to be dangerous, you thought.

You found yourself praying that, whatever the gang had planned that day, they would come out unscathed.

It was already late at night when you finally heard something. But instead of the phone you had expected to ring, you heard the front door slam shut with a loud bang, picture frames on the walls threatening to fall down due to the vibrations it created. The crash was followed by loud curses coming from downstairs.

A knowing smile crept up your face. Someone had a bad day today, you thought. You had to hold back the urge to rush downstairs to find out what exactly happened, the smart part of your brain telling you it was better to stay away from Doyun for a while.

As if your curiosity sparked interest across the city, your phone signalled an incoming message. It was Youngjae.

‘Took care of everything. Are you okay?’

You let out a relieved breath, smiling at the man’s concern once again before quickly sending a message back.

‘Yes, I’m fine. Doyun less so. Did everything go okay?’

Youngjae’s answer came quickly. ‘We’re okay. Everything went as planned. His business should be held back for a little while.’ Followed by another. ‘You should lay low for now. Take care of yourself. We’ll talk soon!’

You replied with a quick ‘thumbs-up’ before carefully deleting the messages. If Doyun found out you were a mole, you’d be in major trouble.

It had been about a full week of normalcy before you received a message from Youngjae again. Taking into consideration that Doyun was on high alert, he didn’t dare keep in contact, afraid to raise suspicion. You were glad he was so thoughtful of you, but you were kind of disgruntled that you weren’t called upon earlier. You were bored and you found yourself missing the action a little. But especially not hearing from Youngjae had caused the disappointment to sink in. So when that text finally came, you couldn’t be more cheerful.

The message carried you to a local café, where Youngjae, JB and a young man that you had seen once before – Yugyeom, you remembered his name was – were waiting for you. Youngjae was the first one to speak to you when you arrived.

“___! How are you? Is everything okay?” His eyes darted up and down, quickly trying to scan your body for any injuries like it was his job – which it was, you reminded yourself.

You smiled, nodded and took a seat, ready for whatever happened next. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

JB let out an amused scoff at your forward nature before folding his hands on top of the table. “Well,” he started. “We need you to gather some more information on your stepdad.”

You nodded, signalling your understanding and willingness, much to Youngjae’s dismay.

“We’re planning on messing with him for a little while longer before we’re able to bring him down completely. After that, you’ll be free from your debt to me.”

It didn’t take you much longer than two seconds to agree. This was what you signed up for, right? Getting revenge. But also because you didn’t really have a choice with your freedom in JB’s hands.

You noticed Youngjae growing more and more wary. One look at him and his worries came spilling out. “Just be careful, ___. Doyun’s already on edge and most certainly suspicious of every tiny thing. If you even have one inch of doubt that he’s onto you-”

“I know, Youngjae,” you smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be on my guard. I’ll message you when I find anything.”

And that was that. Your next assignment.

Eager to prove your worth and help the only people able to bring your worst nightmare down, you started right away. The next couple of days you found nothing. Of course, Doyun had always been careful. Your first search was proof of that. You just prayed that all of the paranoia and stress would cause him to become sloppy. Just one mistake was all it took for you to take advantage of and have his entire business come crumbling down. It was only a matter of time.

Your prayers got answered about five days later, when a ‘business partner’ visited the house. Afraid that someone at headquarters might have something to do with the recent incident, Doyun had invited this particular partner to his home. That was your moment to strike. You had thought of a way listen in on their conversation, but it proved to be quite tricky. There was no way you could personally attend the meeting without being caught spying. That’s why you had to find another way to eavesdrop on the exchange.

Which led you to your mission of retrieving the phone you had hidden away in the pot of an ornamental plant before the two gentlemen made their way to Doyun’s office and started their all-important meeting. Your nerves had been building up consistently when you were waiting for the meeting to end. You were praying your not-particularly well-hidden phone wasn’t discovered. After making sure there was no one in sight, you made your way down to Doyun’s empty office to fetch your recording device.

Your proof turned out to be shockingly useful, prompting you to immediately report to the men on the other side of town. Doyun’s conversation was mostly filled with all kinds of details surrounding this deal that was currently being finalised. The who, when and where were all spoken about in great specifics. You just hit the jackpot, however, it was now the gang’s turn to run with it and put another one of their plans in action.

The week was just starting when Doyun, once again, came home with a dreadful temper. He was furious. Within a month, two of his deals fell through. The first one, an arms deal had been cancelled right before it was supposed to take place. Apparently the opposite party had made a more favourable deal with a different seller a couple hours prior and didn’t feel the need to show up. He had been infuriated. How dare they back off at the last minute? How dare they cross him, one of the most influential people in this city?!

And then that second disaster from which he had barely escaped alive. For some reason, again, the other party had crossed him, only this time it had turned fatal for many of his closest men. Turning up at the meeting place, everything seemed to be going as planned. A few seconds in, Doyun thought he saw some new faces among his interlocutor’s men. He had brushed it off as paranoia, but he was wrong to do so, as he found out a few minutes later when his soon-to-be partner started to twitch a little too much for his liking.

When Doyun and his men started to withdraw, his business partner knew the cover was blown. His men had opened fire and whoever had failed to react quickly, had been shot. It had been a deal about an alliance, and most of it was already set. He invited this man to his house and talked details. But now the people he had given an ounce of trust had turned on him. A few of Doyun’s best men perished, which is what angered him the most. A big part of his business endeavours had fallen through or had been delayed as a result of this and, most importantly, his credibility had taken a huge hit. The first signs of power struggles and revolts had started to pop up among his men: the first cracks within the empire that his father and grandfather had worked so hard to build started to appear.

In between university classes and meetings with the gang, you hadn’t stopped snooping around, determined to find other details of Doyun’s operations. In his current state of mind he had grown a bit careless, making it easier for you to find out new things that might be of importance to your cause. Each time you reported your findings to members of the gang so they could mess with and torment Doyun in any way, shape or form. You usually met up at a coffeeshop in the middle of the city. The less questionable your behaviour, the safer you were from Doyun’s suspicions.

JB didn’t feel the need to be present during most of your frequent meetings, trusting his brothers to hold up to the task of the messenger. However, there was one person who was always there. Youngjae had apparently taken it upon himself to be your first person of contact. While you didn’t know exactly why – he was the medic and wasn’t particularly involved in the other, more illegal matters of the crime ring – you were glad he was there. He had always been there, you realised once, the thought making you feel all strange and warm on the inside.

That warmth had changed into a jittery feeling when Youngjae was the person to reach out first, asking you to meet up later that week. You had told yourself that it was probably business-related, but you couldn’t help but feel excited. It was a little nerve-wracking to be honest. You had told yourself to calm down, and that you had experienced more horrifying things these last few weeks. For God’s sake, you had met with one of the most intense mob bosses of the city while living under the same roof with another. You could handle being alone with Youngjae.

With those encouraging thoughts, you left the house without a second look back. Which was a mistake as, unbeknownst to you, a pair of very expectant eyes were following your every move.

Doyun knew that his recent losses weren’t just any case of bad luck. There must have been something more to it than that. His troubles were just too much of a coincidence. It didn’t take him long to pinpoint exactly where his tribulations stemmed from. He had a strong feeling he knew exactly who was the cause of his problems.

JB’s gang hadn’t been his direct enemy until recently. The gang was young, but had experienced a significant growth in territory, numbers and influence early on. The man at the head of this group had to have guts in order to accomplish all of this, that was nothing new. But spying on him like this, was an especially fearless move. Doyun could only think of one particular person that had been in contact with these rivals. However, he needed to make sure his suspicions were right. And it was very likely that these suspicions were going to be confirmed later that day.

Youngjae had always thought of himself as a calm and patient person. In his medical profession, it was a crucial part of his job description. He had been fidgeting for quite a while this morning, however. Time had seemed to crawl by lately, especially when he was anticipating to meet you. It had been a few days since you last saw each other. He had texted you then, asking if you wanted to have coffee with him. It took some courage to send that message, unsure if you fully understood what he meant by it, but thankfully you didn’t look at all surprised to find him alone.

You two spoke about current business, however briefly, but the conversation quickly shifted to more mundane topics. He noticed your muscles relax as the conversation went on and you smiled more than ever in his presence. He found himself wishing to be able to see more of this version of you in the future. Youngjae wasn’t able to stop thinking about it, about you, ever since, so he had made an effort to speak to you again as soon as possible afterwards.

And that was what led him to this very coffee shop for the second time this week, anxiously waiting for you to continue where you two left off last time. It was only that he had been waiting, anxiously, for a quite some time by now. A quick glance at the clock let Youngjae know that it had been at least half an hour of waiting on his part. He found out you were prone to showing up late sometimes, but never had it been more than ten minutes. Moreover, your delay had always been accompanied by a short message of apology as well. This time something wasn’t quite right.

After another ten minutes, and a lack of any notification of any kind, Youngjae was sure that something was really off. That was when he decided to try to call you, but got no further than unlocking his phone when Jaebum’s name popped up on his screen.

“It’s me,” the familiar voice sounded when Youngjae picked up. The words were blunt, feeding the nagging feeling in his stomach. “We’ve got a situation on our hands,” JB continued before uttering the words that caused Youngjae’s stomach to drop instantly. “Doyun knows.”

In order to explain the situation properly, JB had requested Youngjae to come over as quickly as possible. The latter didn’t need much of an explanation. He had had this strange gut feeling for a while. He knew you were in serious trouble, he just needed to know in how much.

Panic-stricken and restless, Youngjae rushed over to headquarters to find the core gang members gathered around a table. Mark noticed him first, waving him over in silence. The atmosphere was nothing short of tense and all the focus was on JB who seems to be in a heated discussion over the phone.

When Youngjae’s eyes fell on the picture displayed on a phone a distressed Jackson held out to him, his jaw dropped unintentionally. It was a close up of your bruised face. Your cheek was swollen, a scratch of red marking the hit from a ring. Your right eye inflamed and puffy, traces of a bruise already forming along your temple. Some stray hairs were sticking to the patch of dried blood near a cut on your eyebrow.

Youngjae’s breath got caught in his throat, a wave of guilt washing over him. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You had been so careful. This was his fault. The gang had pushed you into cooperating and he stood by and condoned it. It physically hurt him to see you like this. Frustrated with himself and the situation he curled his hands into fists, drawing blood as his nails pressed into the soft skin. His blood was boiling, his heart breaking. How dare they lay their hands on you!

You were more or less innocent, not involved in any of this gang business if it wasn’t for them. He hadn’t agreed on involving innocent people from the very beginning, but had reluctantly let the gang do its thing. And now this happened…

“What exactly do you want to achieve with this, asshole?!” JB’s voice brought Youngjae’s attention back to his conversation. “What do you expect to gain from this?”

Having it switched to speaker, the voice on the phone echoed in the room. “What I want is for your lousy business to stop interfering with that of mine,” Doyun’s voice answered. “Back off, or she dies.”

It was silent for a minute as everyone watched Jaebum with concern. Youngjae tensed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were so careful and still this was able to happen. What if he didn’t ask you to meet up with him? Would your intentions still be a secret? Or was this inevitable? Just an attempt to try and fool a man that turned out to be smarter than they thought?

“Do you really think that this is how you’re going to get us? Are you really willing to kill your own step-daughter for this?” JB said out loud, putting to words exactly how unbelievable Doyun’s intentions were.

“Why not?” Doyun mused. “She’s been nothing but a nuisance to me. My life would be a whole lot easier with her out of the picture.” A cackle reverberated through the phone. “Your choice,” he said before the call got disconnected.

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds, Doyun’s words weighing it down heavily. The first one to break the silence was Jinyoung. “We’re not going to back off, are we?” he said, looking calmer than the rest of the men.

“How could we?” Yugyeom said. “We’ve gotten too far in for us to back out now.”

“But what about ___?! We need to get her out of there!” Youngjae sputtered, the muscles in his jaw tensed. He had already let it come this far. You got hurt. He needed to save you. “He’ll kill her!”

JB paused thoughtfully before clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out, Youngjae. Like we always do.”

It took the rest of the day for the gang to calm down and think of a solution, which turned out to be harder than it seemed. All of the men unanimously agreed that they had to get you out of this situation before anything else, Youngjae being the most vocal about it, but that was going to be difficult without knowing where you were in the first place.

The men reached a dead end a couple of hours in. Without any location, a rescue operation was going to be practically impossible. Halting their operations in relation to Doyun’s business seemed like the only possible way to keep you alive, but their business would suffer and, after seeing the images of your assaulted body, they couldn’t promise Doyun’s men would keep their hands off you even if they did.

Discussions and interjections went on for about an hour when Youngjae’s phone signalled an unexpected message. The text consisted of a location and not much else. Tracking the message resulted in a direct connection with a burner phone that wouldn’t lead to any specific person, but the location directed them to a building at the edge of the city.

“Could it be that this is where ___ is held?” Bambam suggested while the rest seemed puzzled about where this message came from.

“Plausible,” JB said with a nod. “Who’s the owner of that building?”

After a few quick taps on his laptop, Mark confirmed everyone’s hopes. “Doyun.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?!” Youngjae, who’d been pent up with frustration since the moment he stepped foot in the meeting, snapped uncharacteristically. “We have to get her out of there!”

As a voice of reason, Jinyoung interrupted. “What if it’s a trap? Doyun could have just as easily texted us himself just because he wants us to go there.”

A silence fell, the thought floating around in everyone’s minds before Jackson spoke up. “If this is our only lead, I think we should risk it.”

All faces turned to JB expectantly. “Please, Jaebum,” Youngjae pleaded. “We owe her that much.”

After a second the boss hummed. “But we need to approach this carefully. First, we need a plan.”

And so the preparations of a rescue operation ensued. In the dead of night, the gang made its way to the location provided in the text. In the old van of some electrical company, Mark sat in the back, pressing some keys on his laptop, trying to hack into the security camera’s of the premises they were now quickly approaching.

“Mark, you keep monitoring the cameras. Yugyeom, you stay here and be ready for when we need to escape,” JB ordered as the youngest member slowed down the beat-up van a block away from the complex. “Youngjae, you too.”

The young doctor was quick to object. “No. I’m coming.”

“Youngjae, it’s Doyun’s men we’re talking about.” JB’s voice was cold and stern, common for the leader. “They’re trained hitmen.”

“I don’t care.” His voice was resolute. “We need to get ___ out of there as soon as possible, and with an extra hand the sooner we can do that. Besides, I can handle myself,” Youngjae said as he reached for one of the guns in the back.

JB looked at him discerningly. The fire and determination in Youngjae’s eyes told him he wouldn’t budge on this matter. Not feeling like continuing this discussion, JB just sighed.

“Okay, guys. ___ is our priority, but we shouldn’t forget that this could be a trap. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything we’ve overlooked. If anyone only gets the slight feeling that we might be ambushed, speak up and we’re out of there.” He looked at each of the men around him, who gave him an affirmative nod. He continued, his gaze aimed at Bambam. “Keep an eye on Youngjae. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

The young man nodded.

“All right, boys. Let’s do this.”

The side door slid open, the men filing out while concealing some of their weapons within their clothes before sneaking onto the premises of the skeleton of an old office building. The grounds around weren’t completely empty. Some of Doyun’s men were loitering around unsuspectingly, smoking cigarettes and rubbing their hands against the cool night air, gazing at nothing in particular. They were unusually out of place guarding a building that was already part demolished. But as well as for a planned ambush. A good sign, JB noted before signalling the rest of the guys to move forward at Mark’s cue sounding in his earpiece.

The first man that got close to where Jackson and Jinyoung were hiding got a baseball bat to the face, the crack echoing between the buildings. A friend of his that got a little suspicious from the grunt was grabbed from behind, an arm moving around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. Bambam, an experienced sharpshooter, was the one to subdue the next two, the sound of his shots mere pops in the distance thanks to his silencer.

It stayed quiet for the next few minutes, the grounds minimally guarded. The gang made it to the next obstacle: a back entrance with a heavy lock. Jackson stepped forward to inspect it.

“This is not going to be an easy lock to get rid of silently,” he diagnosed.

“Shoot it,” Youngjae called out impatiently. “We still have the element of surprise. We need to get in now!”

All gazes moved toward JB for the final decision. The latter seemed to think it over for a second. Youngjae found himself getting heated up a little too much for his liking, but he was right. Nothing led them to think there was an ambush waiting for them there. In the end JB nodded at Jinyoung who looked ready to deliver the shot.

A loud pop broke the silence, followed by a clank of the lock being blasted apart by a bullet. Jackson swung open the door before a full on gunfight ensued, guards inside the building surprised at the intruders. The boys advanced into the building, weapons raised, shooting down any person in their way. It was chaos. Above the gunfire, Youngjae’s voice rung out.

“Find her!”

The group of men split into three, each moving into a different direction. As per JB’s warning, and his own gut feeling, Bambam didn’t dare let Youngjae out of his sight. He had never seen the doctor act like this. Trained in observing other people’s body language through a visor, he knew Youngjae was acting out of the ordinary. Out of all the people in the gang, he was supposed to be the most collected and practical in stressful situations. Heightened emotions didn’t belong in his line of work.

His white-knuckled fingers and the throbbing vein along one of his temples told Bambam a lot. He was trying to hold back whatever worry he was feeling, but his rushed steps and the slight tremor in his hands gave away enough for his partner to guess what he was going through.

“Hey!”

A shout from the other end of the hallway they barely entered echoed against the walls, pulling Bambam’s focus from the other male. He rushed forward, both hands on his weapon. Even before this threatening sight, his target, a thin man, still reached for his gun. But it was too late when a single shot got fired and hit him right in his chest.

Youngjae didn’t even flinch at his friends actions, his focus elsewhere. “Let’s go,” he said before stepping over the body on the floor and continuing his path. “This way.”

It took another minute before the men noticed two nervous-looking henchmen pacing around in one of the hallways. Bambam held out an arm, holding Youngjae back.

“I’ve seen them before,” Bambam whispered. “And they’re not moving in to help the rest.” He almost sounded a little disappointed.

“That means that she’s here,” Youngjae replied. “They’re guarding her.”

Bambam nodded and advanced. The men in the hallway noticed them immediately, ready to grab their guns. One of them was successful. The other not so much. Rushing in on the last man standing, Youngjae was able to hit him square in the face. Killing was only necessary as a last resort, he thought. He hissed at the crack of his knuckles when connecting with the puffy man’s face. Waving his hand around, trying to shake off the pain, he got caught off guard by a punch in the stomach. Air escaped as he groaned and doubled over, but the adrenaline kept him going. He charged forward, tackling the man to the ground where he punched him again. The man tried to throw Youngjae off, grabbing at his opponent’s face. He was able to push him of balance and land a hit on his cheek, but his victory didn’t last. Another shot rang out and Youngjae looked up to find Bambam, totally forgotten at this point, his weapon raised.

More shouts and gunshots reverberated all around the empty building, but Youngjae didn’t notice any of that. All that was on his mind was finding you. He knew you were near. All he needed to do was find you and bring you to safety. He ignored Bambam’s outstretched hand completely when getting back to his feet and rushed forward once again, only one goal in mind. The other man quickly followed him.

When they arrived at a locked door, Youngjae was the first to barge into it, slamming into it with his shoulder and kicking at it with his boot. When it didn’t budge he yelled out in frustration. Bambam, having enough of this wild display, held him back before raising his gun to shoot at the lock. That did the trick.

Youngjae didn’t feel the need to feel bad about his impulsive behaviour. He swung open the door to finally reveal the person he longed to see.

Your unconscious figure lay on the concrete floor, bruised and broken. Youngjae didn’t waste a second and appeared at your side immediately. For just a second, he tried to push aside his feelings and treat you like any other patient, but his rushed movements betrayed his sentiments. Your pulse was still there, you were breathing – however shallowly. Your face looked pale and you were burning up.

“Have you found her?” Jinyoung’s voice called out from the hallway, his footsteps quickly approaching. The gunfire had died down a little, something Youngjae didn’t even notice. His entire attention was focused on you.

“Yeah,” Bambam answered in his stead. “Everything alright on your end?”

Jinyoung nodded, trying to catch his breath while supporting his hand on Bambam’s shoulder. “JB and Jackson are still holding off some of them. Are we ready to go?” His eyes moved towards Youngjae, who was now approaching them, carrying your comatose figure in his arms. “Is she…?”

“We need to go,” Bambam said firmly, nodding in the direction of the scuffing of approaching footsteps on the cement floors.

Jinyoung looked over at Youngjae again. He looked like he was about to explode. “Get her out of here,” he said, surprising the other two, carrying your figure over into Bambam’s arms.

“What?” Jinyoung blinked, pulling Youngjae back. “What are you doing?”

A cold fire was burning in his eyes. It was more than anger. Worse. It was an intense type of hurt, one that was mixed with outrage. An explosive combination. “I’m gonna kill that bastard!”

“Youngjae, don’t do something you’ll regret later on!” Jinyoung yelled back, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady him. “Take her out of here and make sure she’s okay. She’s your priority!”

Jinyoung had never been much of a kind-hearted person. Blunt and straight to the point, even a bit hurtful. That was who he was. But despite that, he always seemed to know what people needed to hear, even though it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.

Youngjae paused, hesitant to let go of his internal rage. He looked at Bambam, who still looked quite lost at Youngjae’s behaviour and was awkwardly holding your beaten up figure in his arms.

“Youngjae,” Jinyoung tried again, looking at the figure in his friend’s arms. “She needs help. A doctor. Youngjae, she needs you.” Those words seemed to drag Youngjae back to earth. “Go. I’ll take care of things here.”

He kept silent, but gave a slight nod before hurrying past Jinyoung and following Bambam out of the building.

Opening your eyes turned into a struggle the last few hours, and now was no different. You didn’t want to open your eyes, afraid of what was waiting for you at the other side of your eyelids. It had always been a man, gruff-looking and quickly-angered, ready to hurt you in some way or another. The first time the means of torture were simply the knuckles of his giant hands, but the second time he stood there, a smug look on his face and a bucket of ice water hanging on the phalanxes of his fingers.

However, something was different this time. Familiar voices, vague and unintelligible, floated in the space around you. A flutter of your eyelids had drawn the attention of a particular familiar voice back to you.

“___?”

Youngjae.

You tried to open your eyes with much difficulty. With your vision blurry and your head pounding, you were just able to make out the face of the person you longed to see. “Youngjae,” you croaked, your throat dry.

“It’s okay,” he said, the palm of his hand falling to your forehead. You welcomed the coolness of his fingers, your eyelids fluttering closed at the soothing sensation and the rocking of the van. “I’m here. Everything will be alright.”

That was the last thing you heard before everything turned black, a fitful sleep waiting for you on the other side.

Your surroundings had significantly changed when you opened your eyes next. You were met with a white ceiling and a feeling of comforting warmth. When your gaze landed on a mop of familiar brown hair, your heart jumped. Seeing Youngjae’s blurry face hours ago had seemed like a wonderful dream amidst the frequent nightmares, but seeing his sleeping figure, slumped over onto the side of the bed proved that it wasn’t.

You propped yourself up against the headboard with effort, a tentative hand reaching out to touch Youngjae’s face. His cheek pressed into the sheets, his lips were forming a pout. It made him look younger. It looked like he spend most of his time beside you, exhausted to the point of passing out on the chair next to the bed. He had always been there, you realised once again. Even when you didn’t realise, he was there.

The sound of the door opening broke your gaze from the sleeping figure beside you. Yugyeom stepped into the room. His hands occupied with carrying a tray, he pressed the door closed behind him with one of his feet.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You’re awake!”

“Sssh!” You pointed at Youngjae, who was still asleep beside you.

Yugyeom approached the bed silently, putting his tray down on the bedside table. “I thought I’d bring him some food,” he nodded toward man in question. “He’s been cooped up inside this room the entire time.”

“How long have I been out for?” you wondered.

“Almost two days,” Yugyeom said. “You had a fever. But I’m guessing you’re feeling better?” You nodded, your gaze back on the person who was probably responsible for it. “Well, I’ll let you rest some more. Youngjae will kill me if I won’t.” He walked back to the door. “And make sure he eats something when he wakes up. Wouldn’t want our doc to get sick.”

After Yugyeom left, you took another good look at Youngjae’s cherub cheeks. He looked so soft and peaceful that you cursed yourself for doing the thing you did next. You ran a hand through his soft brown locks, your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp. He breathed out a lazy sigh.

“You know,” you started. “As a doctor I figured you should know this position is terrible for your spine.”

Your soft voice coaxed him out of his sleep. A soft moan escaped from his lips, the sound surprisingly adorable in your ears. He blinked, not entirely sure of where he was and what was happening as he shook off the veil of slumber. It took him a few seconds to realise what woke him, but as soon as he did, he shot up.

“___!” he exclaimed, grabbing your hand. “You’re awake!”

You couldn’t help but smile, even though the action caused you to wince as pain blossomed across your cheek.

“How are you feeling?” He looked at you once again with a worried look in his eyes. It had become his default look for you, you found yourself thinking. You should really change that.

You smiled weakly, trying to hold your own, mostly for his sake. “Haven’t felt better.”

“I’m so sorry, ___,” Youngjae said, guilt swimming in his beautiful brown eyes. “This is all my fault. I should’ve-”

“Youngjae. Stop.” You lay your hand across his cheek. “I participated in all this. You couldn’t have prevented any of it.”

“No, ___. You don’t get it,” he said, his eyes glazed over. “You had a fever! If I hadn’t gotten to you in time… You could have died!” He swallowed thickly. “I thought you were dead when I found you. I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself if you…”

He trailed off, staring at the way his hand enveloped yours before placing a kiss on top of your bruised fingers. You didn’t say anything after that. He looked heartbroken. Realising no words could soothe him, you waned in silence, comforting him with your presence and gentle rubs of your fingertips over his knuckles. You both stayed like that for a little while, before Youngjae had to switch to his physician persona.

After having gone through your check-up extensively, you both found yourselves still exhausted, but also hungry. Yugyeom had passed by again in the meantime, another meal spread out on a tray. This time it was meant for you. With both of your stomachs filled with Yugyeom’s hearty meals, weariness hit hard. While Youngjae was reluctant to leave your side, you worried over his posture after sleeping on a chair. You padded the mattress next to you, inviting him to lay down next to you. He protested at first, but you were steadfast – and, above all, selfish.

Both of you settled down quietly, your arms around each other as if to confirm you were together. You didn’t want to let him go and he didn’t want to let you out of his sight. As if calmed down by the other’s presence, your breaths slowed down soon after, both of you finding comfort in each other’s embrace.

You had no idea what happened behind the scenes when you first woke up. After your return to the manor you first considered a prison, you had done nothing but focussed on healing and on Youngjae. He had managed to calm down a bit after everything that happened. He was still reluctant to leave you alone, however. But you didn’t mind.

After the horrific events you went through, you felt like you had to hold onto him at all times, if not for your own sanity. He still felt guilty, the dispirited look in his eyes wrenched your heart. So you made it your job to drive out that feeling, reassuring him at each opportunity and gifting him a smile every time he looked at you. The rest of your efforts went into getting better. You needed to heal, for him, but for your own sake as well. You needed to put this behind you. The sooner you were able to return to your life, the better.

However, there were a few loose ends that still needed to be tended to. One of which presented itself when Yugyeom knocked on the door and asked for you to come downstairs. You hadn’t really spoken to the rest of the gang after the events of the last week, but Youngjae had briefed you about most of it. This time, however, Youngjae shrugged his shoulders in wonder as well.

After they saved you from Doyun’s men, the gang combed through the building in search of the man himself, but he was nowhere to be found. It turned out Doyun had fled the scene and was in hiding. JB was still fully immersed in the manhunt. However, without the mob boss’ presence, his business had crumbled. Some of the higherups that still managed to be alive, had tried to usurp the syndicate in the chaos, but all of them had failed to fully take the reins into their hands.

Another question remained, still. One that was almost forgotten. The answer to that question was sitting at the kitchen island when you arrived downstairs, Youngjae trailing behind you.

“Mom?”

“So, you’re the one who sent that message?” Youngjae said. “You knew where ___ was.”

Your mom nodded regretfully before moving her gaze from her cup of coffee to you. “When I found out you went missing, I knew he was behind it.” She smiled, remorseful, the traces of tears still visible on her cheeks. “I’m not as ignorant as Doyun thought I was. I knew about his business. I knew what he did for a living, but I kept silent. I only started to pay close attention when I figured out you had gotten yourself into his mess.

“You know, he kept things from me, like when you first disappeared. I did some digging and found the ransom notes. But by the time I found out you were missing that first time, you had already showed up again. I kept an eye on things after that, though.” She shook her head. “And when you got missing again, I couldn’t let him do as he pleased. I knew he was angry and I knew he was the one who had you. He became a ticking time bomb and I tried to find out your location as fast as possible.”

She paused.

“I knew I couldn’t save you on my own. So I messaged you.” Her eyes now moved along the members that had gathered in the kitchen. “Thank you, once again, for saving her.” Her eyes halted on Youngjae. “And thank you for taking care of her.”

Youngjae smiled and nodded humbly under her gaze before squeezing your hand in support.

“So, what’s next?” Jaebum asked.

Your mother shook her head. “I don’t know. How does one divorce a man who’s missing?” she chuckled dryly. “I’m looking for an apartment right now. I’m ready to cut all of my ties to that man.”

After another cup of coffee and second heart-warming hug, your mother was on her way once again. She had smiled at Youngjae knowingly before turning away and driving off in her car.

“What was that?” Youngjae said as he helped you back up the stairs.

“What?”

“You know… That weird smile of hers.”

You shrugged. “I guess she’s figured us out.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, us.” You smiled at him as you reached to top of the stairs. “I think she noticed the way I look at you. She could always tell what I thought by looking at me for one second. My face is way too telling.”

Youngjae pulled you along the landing further, before manoeuvring you to the wall. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved in closer. Your breath fanned on his lips as he spoke. “And how do you look at me exactly?”

You let out a hum. “I don’t know. Like you look at me right now.”

He smiled. “And how do I look at you?”

“Like you want to kiss me.” You moved a hand to his chest. “I won’t stop you if you decide to do so,” you whispered.

Youngjae hesitated, like every time when you moved too close to him. He had wanted to kiss you so bad ever since you woke up, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Traces of bruises still marked your skin, a reminder of the trauma you lived through so recently. But the breath on his lips pushed back the reason within him, his feelings taking the lead in his actions. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he caught your hand in his and moved his face forward, your lips meeting in an unyielding kiss.

His lips were soft and his touch gentle, careful not to hurt you while you were still on the mend. He tasted like coffee and vanilla, a safe and familiar combination perfectly captured in an intense kiss. This was what home felt like, you thought. I’m home.  

[100hearteyes]

Clextober18 - 24 - Werewolves/Vampires

Clarke doesn't believe that Lexa is an actual werewolf - just a short, silly drabble for this prompt.

[sorry for typos and shit — it was written on my phone]

Clarke met Lexa at a Halloween party. It was thrown by Raven and hosted by Octavia, her two best friends, and several friends of Octavia's new boyfriend's, Lincoln, were invited.

Clarke was hanging by the couches, a cold beer between her fingers and a gladiator costume wrapped around her body, when her eyes swooped to the door quite by accident and all breath was punched from her chest. At the door was a goddess badly disguised as a werewolf, with claws and a tail and wolf ears on top of her head. The props themselves looked realistic, but they weren't enough in number to make the girl actually look like a werewolf.

That's something Clarke would only notice later, though. At that moment, she only had eyes for that perfect, angular face, with tall cheeks and a sharp jaw, pouty lips and piercing eyes that Clarke couldn't discern the color of from the distance. It was time to get closer, then. For the sake of art.

"Hey," she greeted, extending her hand, when she got close enough to the girl. "I'm Clarke. Octavia's best friend."

The girl looked at her and gave a small, lopsided smile. "Lexa. I'm Lincoln's. Best friend, I mean," she added.

During their talk, Clarke learned that Lexa was really smart and had a brand of self-confidence that was rooted in knowing your value without being smug. Lexa was soft-spoken and gentlewomanly, funny in a very dry and unexpected way, and — that is when Clarke finally noticed her costume in full detail — terrible at dressing up as a werewolf.

Later, when they were dancing, Clarke forgot all about costumes and brains and kindness, and focused back on looks, sexiness, and moves that were so fluid they should be a crime. After another beer and a slow dance, all Clarke could think of was the feeling of Lexa's hand in hers as she led them to one of the guest rooms.

Soon she was lying back on the bed with Lexa on top of her and almost all their clothes gone. Lexa's tail was gone already, most likely taken off during one of their deep kisses, as were the claws from what the slight rake of nails over Clarke's sides told her, but the ears were still sticking out from under her hair. Clarke tugged at them to remove them, but Lexa whined like a hurt puppy and recoiled, much to Clarke's confusion.

"Um. They are really tightly strapped to my hair," Lexa explained, before kissing Clarke again. When they pulled apart, the ears were no longer there. Clarke smirked at Lexa's eagerness to take them off and ran her fingers through the brunette's hair where they once were.

"Be careful with the ears, they looked way too real to have been cheap."

"Don't worry, they're safely tucked in one of the pockets of my jeans," Lexa said, pecking her lips.

Clarke leaned on their elbows and looked at Lexa's jeans, frowning. "You mean your jeans that are on the other side of the room?"

Lexa's eyes widened. "Oh. I mean– I put them under them the bed. Along with the tail and... The claws. I'm sorry, my mind is just too foggy from having you under me," Lexa added with a chuckle.

All thoughts of unconvincing incongruences flew from Clarke's mind right at that instant and she flipped their bodies, coming out on top. "Maybe this will help."

Now under her, Lexa was flushed and panting, looking up at her with hunger. "Only if you do something with it."

----

Six months have passed since that night. Lexa had seemed fully intent on leaving it at a one night stand, but Clarke had other ideas and soon enough they were duly committed and exclusive. Even now she smirks at the way she turned Lexa around with a single, devastating glare.

And now, Clarke has Lexa in front of her, pacing around the room like she can't find the words to tell her something. Which is weird, because Lexa always knows what to say. It's also deeply amusing.

"Babe... Relax."

Lexa stops mid-step and swivels around with an imploring look on her face. "Clarke, I can't. It's just—"

"Did you cheat on me?" she asks, knowing the answer.

Lexa looks affronted. "What? No!"

"Do you want to breakup?"

Lexa shakes her head vigorously. "Never."

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Clarke concludes with a shrug.

"Yes. I do."

"Lexa, what could be so bad that—"

"I'm a werewolf."

"What?" Clarke asks with a surprised, confused chuckle. Lexa kneels in front of her and lays both hands on her knees.

"I am a werewolf, Clarke."

This time, Clarke can't help herself and breaks out laughing. Her amusement dies down when she notices that Lexa isn't laughing with her, however.

"Oh... You're serious." Lexa nods gravely. Clarke cups her girlfriend's face and brushes a thumb over her cheekbone. "Lexa, baby... Werewolves don't exist," she coos, a little condescending.

Lexa removes Clarke's hands from her face. "Yes, they do. And I am one."

"You were one. At the Halloween party where we met. And it looked pretty phoney to be honest."

"No, Clarke. I am a werewolf now. I mean— I have always been one."

Now, Clarke is genuinely worried for her girlfriend. "Lexa... Do you need to see someone? Or take some medication, maybe? I could ask Jasper and Monty for some weed if you want."

Lexa jumps to her feet. "No, Clarke," she exclaims. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because werewolves aren't real, Lexa!"

"They are!"

"Then show me!"

"I can't! Not if you don't believe me!"

Clarke scoffs. "That's exactly what someone who has nothing to show would say."

"Fine," Lexa growls, and runs her hands through her hair. As they slide towards the back of her head, a pair of hairy, pointy ears pops up on top. Lexa's hands leave their hiding place behind her head and she opens her palms in front of her — her fingers now sporting claws. Dramatic as ever.

Clarke knows what she's seeing, but there has to be a reasonable explanation. There always is. Science explains everything, even love. So science must be the explanation for what she's seeing now.

"You also had a tail."

Lexa rolls her eyes and turns her back to Clarke, then lowers her pants, letting a fluffy tail spring free. It waves lightly and — dare Clarke say — realistically.

"These are just the parts I can show you without turning into an actual wolf," Lexa says. "When you tugged at my ears at the party and I whined... It's because you were actually tugging at my years, not just a prop."

"And you can withdraw them any time you want?"

"Anytime I want," Lexa confirms, and then her eyes shine with hope. "Does this mean you believe me?"

"I believe you have weird, retractable ears and claws and a tail. Werewolf is too much of a stretch."

Lexa sighs. "Clarke, the signs are all there, I've never hidden them. I eat a lot of meat, I whine when I'm in pain, and I growl when I'm annoyed. And I always have plans for full moon nights."

"I'm not exactly up to date with the full moon calendar."

"Why don't you want to believe me?"

"You're telling me to believe that you're something that doesn't exist!" Clarke bursts, standing up. "I'm a woman of science! I believe in what I see—"

"I've shown you ears, claws and a tail—"

"That's hardly anything to go by," she counters, but it sounds wrong even to her ears. "Lexa, I believe in science. I believe that things can be explained logically. You're showing me folklore and fantasy."

"The Spanish have a saying: 'I don't believe in witches, but que las hay...'"

"Well, I'm not Spanish!"

Clarke doesn't know anymore if she keeps insisting that she doesn't believe Lexa because she actually doesn't believe Lexa or because she wants to see whatever Lexa might have to show her. At this point, it's probably a bit of both.

"I don't want to scare you, Clarke."

Lexa's small voice finally breaks her. Clarke sighs and walls up to her girlfriend, then holds both her hands.

"You won't scare me," she says with sincerity. "I won't believe anything till I see it, but whatever you have to show me you can be sure that you won't scare me."

Lexa nods, a hesitant, hopeful little tilt of her head, and steps away from Clarke. For long moments, nothing happens, and then Clarke almost screams.

Lexa's back arches forcibly and starts growing hair at great speed. More dark grey hair sprouts from her ears and her claws, while her hands turn into paws and her legs twist and grow hair until they become animal-like. Lexa's nose elongates until turns into a snout, and her clothes tear with each jerk of her body. Soon a heap of clothes is laying torn on the floor and instead of Lexa, Clarke is facing a huge wolf with paws the size of her hands and fur a shiny, nightly grey. Its only human-like feature are the eyes, deep and a forest green, where Clarke sees Lexa as though she were staring at a human face.

Rather than fighting or flying, Clarke's body decides to freeze. There is a huge wolf in the middle of her living room. It's not just a wolf though, is it? It's a werewolf. A goddamn werewolf who is also her girlfriend and is staring at her like it's waiting for her to say something. But Clarke can't say something — she can't say anything at all, because if werewolves exist, then how the hell is she supposed to trust science again? And what other species and mystical creaturey could there be? And how is it possible for a human to change its genome in a matter of seconds? And why is there a werewolf in the middle of her living room?

The werewolf whines. Realizing that Clarke won't react soon, it sighs and turns around towards the bedroom hall. It's only when Lexa has disappears that Clarke snaps back to reality.

Shit.

----

It takes Clarke longer than she'd care to admit to face the music and knock on the door she knows Lexa is behind.

"Enter," comes a quiet voice from inside the room.

Clarke opens the door and her heart breaks when she sees Lexa sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out into the city below. She pads over to the bed and sits down next to Lexa. She takes her girlfriend's hand and lays her head on a bony shoulder.

"I didn't freeze because you're a werewolf. I'm not even afraid."

She doesn't say more; she wants Lexa to talk to her, ask her why she froze. She just kisses Lexa's shoulder and straightens up, keeping her girlfriend company in watching the city.

Lexa's vulnerable green eyes lock with Clarke's. She's been crying. "Why did you freeze, then?"

"I froze because there was a werewolf in my living room and the one thing that always explains everything couldn't explain that. I froze because I was wrong."

That manages to draw a smile from Lexa's lips. "You often are. You just refuse to acknowledge it most of the time."

"Asshole," she chuckles. Then, "You're a beautiful wolf.”

"Thanks."

They stay there in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. She surprises herself by breaking it.

"Does the full moon force your transformation?"

Lexa nods and smiles, hope once again pulling the corners of her mouth even higher and wider.

"It is harmless, but I didn't want you to see it before. Does this mean you believe me?"

"Yes," Clarke confirms, squeezing Lexa's hand. "And I'll be with you this time. I will protect you."

"I don't need protection, Clarke."

"All evidence suggests that you do," Clarke smirks. "After all, only an idiot would decide to dress up as themselves for Halloween."

[thepokyone]

Fighting Spirit

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader (ft. Tony)

Content/Warnings: fluff, humor

Words: 1282

A/N: Sorry for not getting out much content lately, but I have been extremely busy with schoolwork that obviously, and unfortunately, takes importance over running this blog. Anyway, this was an anon request so I hope you enjoy!

“I forgot how much you sucked at this,” Sam said with a snort after you hit the mat for the upteenth time. The two of you were sparring, and it seemed you needed the practice considering your skills were well below par. Field work wasn’t your job anyways - you were the friendly neighborhood tech support - but Sam had insisted on teaching you after he and you had started dating.

You winced, rubbing your back after he gave you a hand getting up. “I feel like I was the punching bag today, rather than… the punchee.”

“The punchee?” Sam asked with a laugh. “You’re adorable. We can stop for the day if you want.”

“Thank goodness. I need like, five naps,” You said, yawning.

Sam smirked. “I’ll be you’re pillow. Just get a shower first, would you?”

You swatted at him half-heartedly. “Like you’re any better. Meet up in an hour?”

“On second thought… how about I just join you instead? Save water and all that.” He asked with a smirk.

“Mhmm,” You said, amused. He stared expectantly at you. “Well c’mon, before I change my mind.”

You could say that you improved in your fighting ability as Sam continued to train with you, but that would be a lie. If anything, you somehow got worse, and Sam was still trying to figure out how that happened. He even brought Steve in to help, but that stopped after you got a little over-excited, somehow landed a punch, and very nearly broke your thumb.

That wasn’t Steve’s fault per-se, but he didn’t want the guilt of inadvertently injuring his friend’s girlfriend, so he had politely backed out. Sam never let you hear the end of that, and made sure to review how you were supposed to properly punch so that it didn’t happen again.

“You’re meeting me for training today, right?” Sam asked, voice raised over whatever tumult was happening on the other side of the phone. You weren’t sure if you wanted to ask if he was on a mission or not.

“Yeah, of course,” You assured him, taking a sip of your coffee as you walked down the sidewalk. “Wouldn’t miss it. I think I’m really improving.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sam said. There was something that sounded like an explosion on his end.

“Is now a bad time?”

“What? No, I’m perfectly - shit -” there was another explosion “-free to talk right now.”

“Right,” You said slowly, the disbelief in your voice making it clear that you didn’t believe him. “It’s just that you sound a little busy.”

“No, I’m just helping out Steve with a project.” There was gunfire in the background.

Your eyebrows raised. “At the gun range?”

“Okay, I’m on a mission,” Sam conceded. There was silence for a moment as more gunfire sounded. “But I wasn’t going to miss your call.”

“Sam, you have my full permission to ignore my call if you’re on a mission,” You said, rolling your eyes and rounding a corner. “Oh, and very funny, by the way.”

“What?”

“The guys you have tailing me? Look, I know I suck at fighting, but I’m not oblivious,” You said, discretely turning your head towards your followers. To be fair, they were pretty bad at it.

“Whoa, whoa, what guys? I didn’t send anyone, you need to get out of there,” Sam said, a note of panic in his voice. “Steve can handle this, Bucky is with him. Where are you?”

You told him, chancing another glance behind you. “Hang on, I lost them.”

“That’s not good. Get somewhere public, lots of witnesses. I’ll be there soon,” He promised. “Oh, and stay on the line for a minute, I need to call Tony to let him know.”

You had almost forgotten that you were dating an Avenger, rather than just Sam, until that moment, because of course enemies of the Avengers would go after you - for leverage or information, it didn’t matter. It was a direct move against the most powerful group of superheroes in the world.

You headed towards a coffee shop you knew was always busy - it was barely a block away, assuming you were to take a shortcut. It’s stupid, a part of you was saying as you weighed your options. It’s the fastest way. Plus, if you go that way you may lose them. They’re nowhere to be seen, another, more rational part of you was saying.

“You still there?” Sam asked, his voice causing you to jump. He had been gone long enough for you to forget you were even on the phone.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Still no sign of them,” You said, making the decision to take the shortcut despite your better judgement.

“I’m about five minutes out, and Tony’s less than that. He’s got a trace running on your phone, so worse comes to worst try and hang on to it, okay?” He asked.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” You said, looking back. Your path was empty, though cars were still driving by. “All clear, still.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Three men emerged from an alley, so close to your destination yet so far.

“Oh, shit,” You mumbled. “Sam, I’ll call you back.”

“Wait, wait-” You hung up, quickly shoving your phone in your pocket and backpedaling straight into a fourth assailant. You wished that you were better at combat, since none of your attempts to fight back aided you in the slightest.

And then, out of nowhere, one of the men was blasted backwards, flying a good fifteen or twenty feet where he landed and didn’t get up again. Tony, armor-clad, landed, taking care of the remaining three with ease. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” You said, nodding quickly. “Thanks, Tony. I should probably call Sam back. I kinda panicked and hung up on him.”

“No need.” Tony nodded towards the sky, where Sam was rapidly approaching. He landed not long after you saw him, the relief rolling off of him in nearly tangible waves. The first thing he did was wrap you in a tight hug and let out an unsteady breath.

“You scared the hell outta me,” Sam said, pressing a firm kiss to your head. “Never do that again.”

“Which part? The almost getting kidnapped part or the hanging up on you part?” You asked, giving him a sheepish smile.

His eyebrows twitched upwards. “Preferably both.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I just panicked! And I thought I might have a better chance at fighting them off if I had both hands free.”

At this Sam laughed, full body laughter that had him keeled over, an arm wrapped around his midsection. “Baby, I’m sorry, but you are the worst fighter I’ve ever seen. There’s no hope for you. You just don’t have a violent bone in your body.”

“Or a coordinated one,” Tony added helpfully. “What? Don’t think I didn’t see your training sessions. I have it all on video.”

You groaned as Sam started laughing again. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Definitely not,” Tony said with a smirk.

“I’m going to need copies of all of those,” Wheezed Sam between laughs.

You smacked him. “Can we go now?”

“Oh, alright. And I’ll quit making fun of your fighting ability - or lack of it - for the day. But only because you almost got abducted,” Sam said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Does this mean I don’t have to train anymore?” You asked hopefully.

“It’s been months, Y/N. If you haven’t improved by now, I doubt you ever will. Maybe you should stick to hacking,” Sam said with a smile.

You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I think I can live with that.”

Tag List: @the-crime-fighting-spider @micachu1331 @esoltis280 @ilvermornyqueen @teaand-cookies @adri200189 @thisismysecrethappyplace @alittlebitofmagic @bluebird214 @lovely-geek @fleurs-en-ruines @loki-god-of-my-life @awesomehaylzus @ldyhawkeye @marvel-biatch @caswinchester2000 @ilovetvshowsblog @strawberry-ella

[tristinai]

Cullrian Seasonal drabble

The tag needs some love so here’s a self-prompted seasonal drabble, inspired by this list.

10: I forgot to buy a Christmas tree and I tried to cut one in your garden, you caught me, please, don’t call the police, I can explain. (Cullrian, modern Thedas AU, rating T)

Just to note, many liberties were taken with this prompt, the largest being the assumption that Satinalia traditions share similarities with Christmas. Any and all mistakes are my own since this drabble has not been beta-read. Happy Holidays!

Dorian didn't know what he had been thinking when he agreed to be responsible for procuring a Satinalia tree for their weekend outing in Dragon's Peak. It had seemed like a good idea at the time: Ellana was scrambling to make last minute arrangements to secure the family cottage from her (evidently, rather large) extended family just before Satinalia and Dorian had been more than happy to relieve her of some of the planning. Sera and Bull had been left in charge of alcohol (a decision that had Dorian raise his eyebrows because if the two had it their way, everyone would be left drinking cheap whiskey and that Maker-awful spirits qunari favored) while Varric and Garrett in charge of the baking. In hindsight, it was all a disaster in the making, made worse by the final push for holiday shopping that saw Dorian working overtime these last few weeks, all while struggling to find time to prepare for his dissertation. Before he knew it, it was already Friday evening and he had to make the drive up to cottage country, hours later from when he had told his friends he would arrive.

Bloody ridiculous, thinking I had the luxury of going out to buy a blasted tree, he thought, moodily, grunting as he impaled the ax into the tree's base.

That he even had found the tool in his trunk was a miracle that he supposed he'd have Bull to thank for later, who frequently borrowed Dorian's car. It was only slightly worrying that the qunari had done anything recently involving an ax.

Snow flicked off the evergreen branches in an annoying, powdery spray that threatened to muss Dorian's carefully oiled coif and put him in an even fouler mood. Cutting down a tree – incredibly illegal, he had no doubt – had been his last option. Never mind that he was an international student on a Ferelden study visa and could see more than his study rights revoked if he was caught. He was far enough up the road from the nearest farm that he doubted anyone would discover him and the need to not disappoint his best friends outweighed being a model resident in that moment.

He cursed beneath his breath as snow splattered onto his face, pausing to swipe a gloved hand over his eyes. Great. Now his face was wet, he was freezing his arse off because Ferelden winters bloody-well sucked, and he was barely even halfway into chopping down this tree.

“You'll never get it down. Not with that sloppy form. And if you keep swinging like that, you'll throw out your back.”

Dorian nearly choked on his next curse, ax fumbling in his unsteady grip. He hadn't expected anyone to find him this far into the woods and certainly not to sass him upon seeing him committing a crime against the environment. His immediate reaction was a vicious retort to match his bitter mood but panic prevented him from running his mouth before he found himself in even hotter water.

Turning to face the man who had interrupted him, the Tevinter tried not to let his surprise show at seeing a handsome blond standing not yards from where he was chopping, an unleashed mabari at the man's side. The beast had its head tilted, sniffing the air as if to discern whether it liked this trespasser, while Dorian's brain was trying to come up with anything to say other than the word FUCK, which was running on a loop in his head.

“...this isn't what it looks like,” he said, realizing how stupid it sounded once it was said.

“Really?” the Fereldan questioned, a hint of disapproval beginning to creep into his feigned tone of bemusement. “Because if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trespassing on private land and attempting to chop down one of my sister's trees.”

Okay. So maybe it was what it looked like.

Fasta vass. He had been caught with literally ax in hand, hacking away at a tree.

“Perhaps we can come to some agreement that doesn't involve inconveniencing either of us further,” Dorian tried, using that same, smooth tone he had to employ often to defuse the ire of disgruntled customers. “I apologize, take my leave, and we forget this rather embarrassing situation. Poor judgment on my part.”

“Or, I have you fined for illegally attempting to fell a tree,” the man answered, arms folded over his chest, grim lips beginning to curl in a scowl.

“There's no need to get the authorities involved,” Dorian replied, quickly. He didn't even want to think of what could happen to his student visa if he was entangled in a violation of the law. “I'm sure we can find other means to settle this. I'm more than willing to compensate you, Mr...?”

“Detective Cullen Rutherford.”

…FUCK.

It would be just his luck that he ends this shitty week being caught by a police officer in his first flirtation with crime.

How was he going to get out of this without making things worse?

"Detective Rutherford? How wonderfully Fereldan-sounding. Do appease my curiosity and tell me you have an equally endearing middle name, like Nathaniel or Bryce. Detective Cullen Nathaniel Rutherford. It rolls off the tongue quite nicely."

If the detective was annoyed before, he was absolutely baffled by now, staring incredulously at the would-be tree feller. The gray mabari barked at the sound of its master's name while the officer began to flush.

"What are you--t-that's not my--"

"No need to correct my assumption. You can tell me over a cup of coffee. How does next Thursday sound?"

The poor blond looked even more bewildered at the turn of conversation. It took him a few seconds to process the silky, flirtatious tone Dorian was using. And when he figured it out, his face went a deeper shade of red.

"A-are you attempting to bribe an officer of the law with coffee to avoid being charged for a misdemeanor?"

"Bribe?" the Tevinter laughed, his voice taking on a coy lilt. "Is it so hard to believe that I find you far too handsome to pass up this opportunity, even if we must deal with such frivolities as charging me for attempting to cut down a tree?"

"M-Maker's breath!" Cullen mumbled, dropping his red face into his gloved hands. “Th-there's no need to—you really shouldn't—”

And much to the detective's dismay, his loyal companion bounded through the snow towards Dorian, wagging its stubby tail, to which the Tevinter rewarded the dog with a generous pat on the head and some very appreciated ear scratching.

“Man's best friend indeed,” the detective muttered, feeling more than a little betrayed by his pet.

“I must commend you on your excellent choice in four-legged companions, Detective Handsome.”

“Rutherford!” Cullen quickly corrected, looking for all the world like he was about to die of embarrassment.

“A big, fierce beast like this? And you know what they say about a man with a big dog. He's also got a big—!”

“By Andraste, if I drop the charges, will you stop?!”

Dorian smirked triumphantly. “I was going to say, 'big heart'.”

"Look...it's Satinalia. The weather's not the best and it's hard to see anything clearly this time of night. Let's say a would-be violator of Ferelden's rather important,” Cullen emphasized, with a slight glare, “environmental protection laws managed to get away before any real damage could be done and we forget this whole incident.”

“...that sounds reasonable.”

“And for the love of the Maker, please stop attempting to flirt your way out of trouble. It's not a habit you should be employing every time you anger an officer.”

“But it worked, didn't it?”

The Tevinter's answer was a groan but he swore the Fereldan was hiding a smile behind his gloved hand.

“Alright. No more flirting with officers so gorgeous, they're making me rethink my lifelong hatred of plaid,” Dorian said, winking salaciously at the detective. “From now on, I'll curry favor with officers of the law by bewitching their beloved pets.”

“Something tells me Brixon and I will need to have a long chat about accepting scratches from 'perps',” Cullen said, giving a mock glare to his dog.

"Brixon? What a lovely name for a big, scary mabari," Dorian said, smiling down and scratching the mabari's ear once more.

The dog whined, giving what seemed to be a disapproving look at his master, which only made the detective chuckle.

"Don't be like that. I know you're as good as any one of the men and women who serve on the Denerim police force."

Dorian's head perked up at that. "You're from Denerim as well?"

"Transferred from Honnleath only a few months ago," the Fereldan answered. "You've come quite a ways out of the city to find a tree."

The Tevinter had the humility to look somewhat embarrassed at the observation. "I'm spending the weekend at my friend's cottage and, of course, the one thing I was tasked with, I failed to do until the last minute."

The blond fell quiet for a moment, deep in thought. "If it's a tree you need, I may be able to help you out.”

-*-*-*-

"I can't thank you enough for this," Dorian said, as Cullen helped him secure the tree on the roof of his car.

Checking the ropes one final time, Cullen gave the Tevinter a small smirk. "I'd much rather give you one of my sister's left over trees than have you commit another crime."

"Attempted-crime," Dorian corrected, to which the Fereldan simply chuckled.

As luck would have it, Cullen's sister Mia was the owner of the tree farm he had been attempting to steal a tree from. She had been more than happy to treat Dorian to cocoa as Cullen fabricated a story about finding Dorian at the side of the road and helping him to jump start his car. And when Dorian had added that he had been on his way to find a tree farm that would hopefully still be selling trees at this time of night, Mia had generously offered one on the house.

"It's the least I can do after the night you've been having.”

And if that didn't inspire guilt that had Dorian pulling out his wallet, he wasn't sure what else would. But after much insisting, most of it by Cullen, the Tevinter accepted the gift.

"You really didn't have to do this for me," he added once more, standing a bit sheepishly by the door to his car.

The detective smiled rather shyly and as his cheeks grew pinker, Dorian couldn't help but think, for not the first time that evening, how adorable the (“still quite tragically single,” Mia had declared overly loud over warm beverages, earning her a mortified look from her younger sibling) man was. “When you attempted to flirt your way out of a fine, I knew you had to be in some financial trouble. Times are tough. Plus, it's Satinalia. I hope you and your friends put that tree to good use.”

The Tevinter grinned widely. “You have my word, detective. Thanks again for the tree. Please tell your sister I wish both of you a happy Satinalia.”

As he unlocked his car, he paused, glancing sideways, with a smug smirk on his face. “And just so you know, I would have flirted with you even if you hadn't caught me in the middle of destroying the local environment.”

This time, Cullen's blush reached the tips of his ears, which peeked out above the thick, plaid scarf he wore around his neck.

“About next Thursday...”

Dorian, with one leg already in the vehicle, stopped. “Hmm?”

“I-I'm free. If you still want to know my middle name,” the detective said, ducking his face bashfully.

Dorian's stomach did a flip.

“I-it doesn't have to be a date,” Cullen added quickly, still not quite able to meet the Tevinter's eyes. “I-I don't have many friends in Denerim and—well, it would be nice to—and coffee. Coffee would be great.”

“So, in exchange for coffee, you'd tell me your middle name?” Dorian teased. “Then I, in good conscious, must inform you that Mia divulged that information in private while you were feeding Brixon, Detective Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

But the Fereldan took the teasing another way, an apologetic look on his face. “Ah, I-I suppose that means you're busy and—”

“And free after 4. If that works for you.”

Dorian had thrown out a random day when he had initially made his suggestion. Luckily, he had nothing planned after his shift.

When the detective looked back up, his honey-colored eyes widened in shock. “Y-yes t-that's great. I—would you like to exchange numbers?”

In his nervousness, Cullen fumbled with his phone and nearly dropped it onto the road. Dorian did his best to hold back a chuckle but seeing the embarrassed smile on the detective's face made the Tevinter's own lips curl in a grin, a flutter in his chest. Once numbers were exchanged and they had added each other to Let’s Chat, a popular Thedosian app, they said their goodbyes and Dorian started his car.

Before pulling off onto the road, he rolled down his window and called out, “Oh, and just so you know, Cullen, Thursday is very much a date!”

The poor man nearly slipped into the snowbank but that didn't stop him grinning from ear to ear as he waved Dorian off.

Perhaps this week wasn't so terrible after all.

[fifteenstrawberries]

hello there. A while back you asked if you could jump off my idea about Ryou waking up to Takashi screaming and I responded with - I believe - a 'hell yes!' or something to that line. My dash is crap however. Did you ever write that? If not, I understand that the muse comes and goes but if you did and I missed it is there any way I could get a link? I'd love to read some more about Ryou and that idea is such a heartbreak waiting to happen.

Hi there!

So three days after you sent me this (sorry, this is like the one week in the entire year that I’m too busy/tired/frazzled to answer immediately) 

In spite of my best  intentions, I do not yet have an actual fic. But I do have an outline for one! (It’s basically me just wallowing in angsty twin feels, so I hope you enjoy!)

(put the rest under a read more because holy cow this got long)

(I think you’ve built your headcanons so that Ryou was actually captured by the Galra and put in the arena because they thought he was the Champion? So I hope you don’t mind that this doesn’t follow that.)

So it starts out in space, of course. Some intelligence gathering mission on a planet that’s not quite under Galra control anymore, the crime bosses have more power here than the empire appointed officials, so it’s relatively safe and when the Blade of Mamora asks Voltron to gather some information here, Allura can’t see any reason to refuse.

Safe, of course, is relative. Lance and Keith are running back to the Hangar where they docked the small Altean pod. (“I wanted to bring the Lions!” Lance shouted over blaster fire, “But nooooo, somebody wanted to be stealthy!”

“Not. Helping.” Keith bit out, braced behind his shield.)

Then, a mysterious alien in a space suit jumps into the fray! He knocks out just enough of the aliens shooting at Keith and Lance that they’re able to turn to turn the tide of the battle, and then all three of them skedaddle–

(“Not that I mind,” Lance drawled, eyeing the mysterious stranger while Keith traded between suspicious glares and white knuckled flying to avoid the galra drone ships hot on their tail, “But why exactly did you decide to help us?”

“I’ll tell you after we lose these guys,” the alien rasped, hanging on for dear life as Keith barrel-rolled to avoid taking fire.)

– off-planet, up to where Shiro is waiting on the dark side of this planet’s third moon to smash the drone ships and shepherd the little pod back to the castle ship.

(The alien’s breath caught when the Black Lion exploded into view, and really, Lance couldn’t blame them. Shiro and the Black Lion coming down on the Galra like an avenging angel was a sight to behold.

“Lance, Keith, are you alright?”

Shiro’s face pops up on the screen and Keith visibly relaxes.

“We’re fine.” Keith says, “Things got a little dicey but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“We?” Lance glared at him, “What we? I was the one saving our bacon down there. You were useless.”

Keith ignored him. “We got away thanks to this guy.” Keith nodded back at the alien.

… who didn’t seem to even be breathing, standing stock still.

“Thank you,” Shiro said,  and that seemed to spur them into motion. They started pulling on the clasps on their helmet as Shiro spoke, “I’m not sure what we can do to repay you but–”

With a hiss of pressurized air, the helmet came off, revealing a man, a human. Buzzed black hair, pale skin, and wide black eyes that stared at Shiro like the world had ended and reformed in front of him.

“Taka?” he asked, and without a respirator to filter that voice was achingly familiar.

Shiro stopped, looking more closely at the stranger (but he wasn’t a stranger, not really, Lance could see that now). Emotions flitted across his face, confusion, horror, then a wild, tremulous hope.

“… Ryou?”

(Because Shiro forgot that too. Not just the previous year, but everything. Why else would he leave Earth behind without a backwards glance, without a single word of complaint? It was his home, he knew that intellectually, but he had forgotten why.)

They fly back to the castle. Ryou is standing and the front of the ship, fingers drumming anxiously on the console, (Keith is casting incredulous glances at him and Lance can’t blame him because holy shit, Shiro has a twin? Since when?). They don’t bother with the individual hangars, going to the large main one so that the Black Lion and the little pod can dock in the same space.

It’s just as well, because as soon at the hangar doors close and the pressure stabilizes, Black’s head dips down and Shiro almost falls out, hits the ground, rolls, and starts running. In the same breath, the pod’s view shield comes down and Ryou vaults out, starts running as well, and the twins meet each other halfway, crash into each other, and just

hold

as tight as they can, sinking to the ground, and showing no signs of letting go.

By that point, Lance and Keith have let everyone know, uh guys, somehow we have double the Shiroganes? And give them a minute because damn.

And there’s the usual questions from Shiro, because what the hell was his brother doing in space?

(“I was looking for you, dumbass, why do you think?” Ryou said, his forehead pressed against Shiro’s.)

And the usual questions from Ryou as well, because Taka was supposed to be dead, and as grateful as he was to be definitively proven wrong, Ryou really really wanted to know who the fuck had given his brother so many scars.

And from the rest of the team … it hurts a little, to see Takashi and Ryou reunited. Not just because all of them have families that they miss, but to see the differences between the twins? Ryou– as tall as Takashi, with blacksmith’s arms, a full head of black hair, an unscarred face and both of his own arms– looks soft and so young, compared to Takashi.

(It hurts because they can look at Shiro and look and Ryou and think Ah. So this is what the Galra did.)

And let’s have a bit of fun here, and say that multiple births on Altea just didn’t happen, so when Takashi introduces Allura and Coran to his brother, Coran takes one look at Ryou and exclaims, “I had no idea cloning technology on Earth was that advanced!”

Ryou and Taka just looking at each other. “Wow,” Ryou rolls his eyes, “Never heard that one before.”

“No no, I don’t think he’s joking.”

After being reassured that no, actually, monozygotic twin are actually a thing that happens on Earth, and this isn’t an evil alien plot (the aliens being the humans in this case, of course) Allura proceeds to recruit the hell out of Ryou, because if he can match even half of what Shiro can bring to the table  … she didn’t get this far by being stupid.

So she gives Ryou the grand tour, the hangars with the rest of the Lions, the castle bridge, the map room with it’s galaxies of red distress beacons, all the while giving the Voltron spiel, which really, she didn’t need to, because as soon as Ryou heard “We’re getting back at the people who hurt Shiro” he was like, yes, sign me the fuck up and point me toward your junkyard, I will build you the best bombs.

(“Wait,” Ryou frowned, “Who’s your support staff again?”

“That would be me and Coran,” Allura said, blinking in surprise, “The paladins help with maintenance when they can, but they have to concentrate on their training and their Lions.”

“Of course,” Ryou nodded, glancing around, “Just to clarify, you have seven people on a ship originally designed for hundreds, if not thousands … and you’re doing cooking, cleaning, routine maintenance, training five pilots on totally alien warships that not even you fully understand, gathering intel, doing rescue missions … am I missing anything?”

“Don’t forget doing favors for the Blade of Mamora.” Keith pointed out.

“Looking for my family.” Pidge added.

“And don’t forget fighting for our lives when the Galra manage to track us down.” Hunk said, “Sometimes they send a fleet, sometimes they send a robeast, sometimes they send both!”

“Right,” Ryou said faintly, “So like– no judgement, here, seriously– but do you guys ever sleep?”

“Pfft, of course we sleep,” Lance scoffed, “How else do you think I maintain my stunning good looks? Eight full hours, baby.”

The other six looked at each other, somewhat guiltily.

“Well …” Allura started.

“No?” Hunk said.

Pidge snorted, “Sleep is for the weak.”

“Yeah,” Ryou muttered, “That’s what I thought.”)

They finish their BoM favor– the last step involves a dead drop, so very little effort neccesary. And just … take the day off. Catch up on, share wild adventures, hear the latest from earth, (“You,” Ryou points an accusing finger at Pidge, “Call your mother. All of you need to do that, actually, but you especially.”) make real  dinner for once instead of just the goo.

Nobody misses that Takashi and Ryou stay next to each other the entire time. Shoulder pressed to shoulder, or holding hands, neither seems to want to let go.

Later that night, after everything is winding down and everyone is tired and full of good food, and Allura is fretting because she doesn’t have a cabin prepared for Ryou …

(“Don’t worry about it, I’ll bunk with Taka tonight,” Ryou glanced at his brother, “Sound good?”)

And everyone is floored, because whether they meant to or not, part of the culture that’s sprung up among the paladins is You Do Not Go Into Shiro’s Room. They might go barging into each other’s rooms at odd hours, but for the eight hour designated Sleep Time (whether or not they’re actually sleeping), nobody bothers Shiro. Like seriously, it’s not like he’s not available to them every other hour of the day. The guy has enough to deal with, the least they can do is give him his personal space.

So anyway, yeah, Takashi and Ryou go to their room, Takashi pulls out the spare futon–

(Ryou raised an eyebrow as Takashi hunted around in the closet, “Futons? Really?”

Takashi shrugged, “The bed was too soft.”)

–And the two of them just sit and …they’re not even talking, not about anything important. Palm pressed to palm, comparing their hands, and how so much has changed over just a year. After a lifetime of engineering and building, Ryou’s hands had always been rougher than Takashi’s. Calloused, with bruised nails, with electrical burns and solder scars.

Now?

Even the worst scar Ryou has ever had is nothing compared to the tattered mess of Takashi’s sole remaining hand, hidden underneath a black half-glove that he’d borrowed from Keith all those weeks ago back on earth. Criss crossed scars, crooked fingers where smashed bone hadn’t healed right, a distressingly large slice gouging into the meat of his palm. And the other …

(“Do you like it?” Ryou asked, fingers running over the metal panels that made up Takashi’s prosthetic arm.

“It works,” Takashi said, “It’s better than nothing.”

“Not what I asked.”

Seconds passed silently, Ryou examining the alien prosthetic and Takashi allowing it.

“I hate it.” He said softly.

Ryou nodded, “I’ll make you a new one,” he promised, “a better one. As soon as I figure out how it works.”)

And then, they go to sleep. And it’s in a strange place, far, far away from home. But his brother is right next to him, snoring softly, and Ryou thinks, maybe this won’t be so bad.

  He wakes up to screaming.

Night terror, whispers the logical part of his brain, but to the rest of him doesn’t care, is panicking because his brother is screaming–

Taka, he yells, shaking his brother roughly, Taka, wake up!

And when Taka finally opens his eyes, wide and startled, but focuses on him quickly enough, “Ryou?” He asks, his voice puzzled and sleep-rough, “What’s wrong?”

And Ryou just–

Pulls back the covers. Holds them up in an unspoken invitation. And when Taka moves over and they’re sharing one futon like they used to when they were kids, Ryou pulls the covers back over them and wraps shaking arms around his brother.

“You were screaming,” He tells Taka quietly.

Taka goes still. “Sorry,” He whispers, “I’m okay now, though.”

Ryou squeezes his eyes shut and hugs his brother closer, because no, Taka wasn’t okay at all.

[amethyst-labyrinth]

Star Cats Express

Chapter one

Disclaimer I don't own the musicals Cats or Starlight Express

The two tomcats walked side by side down the countryside lane, which lead to the local village vicarage.

"Are you, quit sure we're going the right way, Rum Tum Tugger?" The first cat asked his companion stopping to rest for a moment and clean his front paw pad.

Rum Tum Tugger sat down too and faced him.

"My dear, Mr. Mistoffelees," He said archly in an over exaggerated tone of great offence. "While I have taken up residence to live with you in a new human home, that doesn't mean I've forgotten the way to my old human home from my kitten hood days, especially since my father still lives there and I visit him regularly!"

"We've been walking an awfully long time," Mistoffelees said shooting him dubious look. "And there's so many humans out and about and the bullocks and sheep are making so much noise and did you see the size of those dogs earlier? I don't like this."

"That's because Old Deuteronomy lives an hour away from us and it's market day, it's going to take us time to get there unless you want to use your powers to get us there quicker?" Tugger suggested.

Mistoffelees scowled at him. "Are you making fun of me?" He asked flatly.

Tugger was actually taken about by this. "Mistoffelees, you know I have the utmost respect for you and your powers!" He said sincerely and any other cat would have been flattered since Tugger only respected the tribe's leader Old Deuteronomy, but Mistoffelees didn't look at all convinced.

"If I've never been somewhere before, I can't conjure myself or anyone else there. I told you that before." The conjuring cat grumbled.

"Well I'm sorry, I forgot, but regardless I still think you're wonderful and clever magic or not " Tugger said in hopes to pacify him. "Now come on let's get going again," He added giving him an affectionate head-butt. But instead the smaller cat stayed put.

"Don't you think it's strange the Jennyanydots ask us to meet her at the vicarage?" Mistoffelees asked.

"Yes, but I'm also curious as to why, aren't you?"

"No!" Misto said suddenly prickling and arching his back. "I want to go home! And I want to go home now!

Tugger quickly pounced on the smaller cat to prevent him from leaving.

"Misto, Misto, Misto," Tugger smoothed. "What is the matter?"

"I have a feeling, bad feeling!"

"What kind of bad feeling?"

"The kind that feels like impending doom!"

"How to you know what impending doom feels like?" Tugger asked matter o-factly slowly getting off the other cat.

"Because I've felt this feeling before and doom has befallen me afterwards!"

"Really?" Tugger asked with wide eyes. "When did that happen? What happened?"

"The day you followed me home!"

"Misto!" Tugger yelled bopping him on the head with his paw.

"You never left, and my precious one."

"Must you always call our human girl that?"

"Took you in and all you do is cause horrible muddles all over the house! My pillow! Why my pillow?" Mistoffelees finished yowling.

"Just wanted you to think of me when you went to sleep."

"Oh, well maybe I should start sleeping in the litter box then?"

If Tugger had not in housecat forum he would have rolled his eyes.

"Oh stop being so melodramatic," He said nudging Mistoffelees up. "Come on let's just go the vicarage and see what the old Gumbie Cat wants. Maybe she found an orphan kitten and wants us to take it in and raise it as our own. We'll be daddies and name it Tuggoffelees," Tugger said happily.

"What?" Mistoffelees said looking at him like he had grown two heads.

"What?" Tugger replied.

"Never mind," Mistoffelees grumbled. "But mark my words, Rum Tum Tugger! Doom will befall us!" He said sitting on his haunches waving his front paws up and down in a mystical fashion.

'He's so cool! Tugger thought watching him.

They continued walking and Tugger would point out various spots of interest. Presently they came upon a much larger cat walking a head of them. From what they could see most of the cat was black, but the tip tail was white as where the back paws. Tugger tensed and crouched low his ears flat, not sure if this cat was a threat or not.

"Uncle Bustopher!" Mistoffelees meowed happily running towards the large cat.

"Quaxo, my boy!" Bustopher Jones greeted him calling him by his second name. Then to Tugger's utter shock the two cats began to playfully wrestle on the road.

'Disgraceful! Tugger thought annoyed that he didn't have Misto's full-undivided attention anymore. Well. you'll never see me doing that. He said to himself before walking away with his tail perpendicular. He had only gone a few feet when he saw another cat this time laying flat and still in the middle of the road. It was Old Deuteronomy and he looked dead!

"Daddy!" Tugger cried running over to him as fast as his tufted paws could carry him.

Old Deuteronomy's ear twitched before lifting up his head and yawning.

"Ah, Rum Tum Tugger, my son! What pleasant surprise!" The elderly cat said sitting up.

"Father, you're alive!" Tugger said happily before pouncing on him.

Old Deuteronomy laughed softly.

"Now, now Rum Tum Tugger, you know I like to rest on the road on market day and the sun was so warm that it lulled me to sleep."

But Tugger overjoyed that his father was not dead just continued to pounce and playfully bite him and soon Old Deuteronomy responded in kind, eventually Mistoffelees and Bustopher Jones finished playing and went in search of Tugger finding him happily wresting with Old Deuteronomy.

"Well, well if this isn't a day for surprises and brings you two here?" Old Grey cat asked.

"Jennyanydot," Nephew and Uncle replied.

"Yeah," Tugger added. "She asked Misto and yours truly to meet her at the vicarage."

"Hmm, asked me as well to meet her there," Bustopher Jones told him.

"Yes I do seem to recall Jennyanydots asking me to meet her today," Old Deuteronomy said scratching his chin with his back paw.

"Why would she want to meet with all four of us?" Tugger question. "Say you don't think she wants to mate with us do you?"

"No son I don't think so," His father answered.

"Best be off to find what she wants," Bustopher Jones interjected.

They found the Old Gumbie cat a sleep in the vicarage back garden. With her was a large bundle of parchment paper.

"Oh wonderful you're here," She cried when she had woken up. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here. It's about dear Skimbleshanks, I'm sure you've all must have noticed how depressed he's been lately?"

"No," Said Tugger.

"Not really," Added Mistoffelees.

"He hasn't said anything to me," Supplied Bustopher Jones.

"He seemed fine when we spoke recently," Old Deuteronomy told her.

"Well he is!" Jennyanydots argued. "And I know why!"

"Unrequited love for me?" Tugger winked.

"Wh-what?" The Gumbie cat sputtered. "No!"

"Ignore him," Mistoffelees begged. "He thinks everyone is in love with him."

"That's not true," Tugger grumble. "I know my father isn't love with me."

"Skimbles is depressed because he believes no one appreciates him."

"And he has told you this?" The Jellicle Leader asked concerned.

"Well no," The Calico cat admitted. "But I can tell."

"Then why don't we sing a song for him at the ball," Tugger suggested.

"That's a great idea Rum Tum!" Mistoffelees agreed.

"Really?" Tugger responded delighted that Misto agreed with him.

"Excellent suggestion, my son!"

"I concur!" Chimed in Bustopher Jones.

"That's a terrible idea!" Jennyanydots yowled. Causing the four tomcats to arch their backs and puff up their tails in fear. "He'll think we want to get rid of him!" She declared.

"You mean like we want to do to you?" Tugger mumbled under his breath.

"The way to cheer Skimbles up and show him that he is loved and appreciated is to preform his play for him in surprise."

"What play?" Bustopher Jones demanded. "Skimbles never said anything to me about writing a play."

"Why are we here?" Misto whined.

"I'll get to that in time," Jenny said. "Now Skimbles's play is called Starlight Express. It's about a little human boy who dreams his toy trains come to life and compete in a race. I found it when I was cleaning out Skimbles's den for him. Here let me read it to you. It's also a musical."

"Is this going to take long?" Tugger asked.

"Yes, is it? Because I have a lunch appointment at, eh," Bustopher Jones paused as he patted his chest with his paw. "I don't have timepiece," He finished forlornly.

Undaunted Jennyanydots began to read and sing the play aloud. Now Jennyanydots is a wonderful singer, her voice is strong and cheerful and she can really hit those high notes and normally under any other circumstances her singing would be fine, but because Skimbles didn't make any notes of tempo or beat of the songs she had nothing to go except her own judgment and whether it was pride or laziness she sung all the song to the tune and cheerful beat of her song The Gumbie Cat Song and that made her singing awkward and jerky as clearly none of the songs were meant to be sung of to the tune of the Gumbie Cat. And the songs themselves they were not bad they were clever and catchy and if they had been sung in the right beat and tempo many of them would have been beautiful and the other songs let me just say there was something off putting about hearing Jennyanydots sing 'You've got no lovers if you've got no wheels.' Come and bite my burgers/ I'm hot cheep and quick.' 'Just cause I smile all the time don't mean I'm not into crime.'

"Well what do you think?" The Gumbie cat asked when she finished reading the play. The four tomcats sit in stunned silence trying to process what they just heard.

"I think I've just been traumatized," Mistoffelees ventured. When Jenny had told them the plot of the play the Conjuring cat had assumed it would be like Rev. W. Awdry's Railway Series books, that his Father, Cat Morgan had read to him when he was kitten. He had excepted the trains in the play to be mischiefs and they were, but thy went beyond that they were murderers, promiscuous, and kind of whiney. He'd never be able to read or watch Thomas the Tank Engine the same way again.

"I think I ether I want Jennyanydots or Skimbleshanks as my partner for the mating dance this year," Tugger joked fully excepting Mistoffelees to bop him on the head with his paw and fully disappointed when nothing happened.

"The Starlight Express is The Everlasting Cat?" Old Deuteronomy questioned trying to understand the religious aspects of the musical.

"I have never heard such rubbish in all my life!" Bustopher Jones yowled. "And includes the time my sister's mate told me he ounce ate a live kraken from the inside out!"

"All of Papa's stories are true!" Mistoffelees shouted in defense of his father.

"Madam I demand to know why you have summoned us here and force us to listen to this utter nonsense! Trains having genders and feelings!"

"Well," Jeenyanydots said with her nose in the air "I can see that it's quite clear that you obviously don't appreciate Skimbleshanks' genius!"

"The only thing that's quite clear is that Skimbleshanks has obviously mixing catnip with his tea and scotch!" Bustopher Jones hissed back.

"That is enough from the both you!" Old Deuteronomy scolded the two adult cats. " Now Jennyanydots, please explain what you have in mind."

"Old Deuteronomy," She began respectfully. "As our tribe's leader I need your permission to preform play and also I want you to be in it."

"Me?" The old cat said astonished. "But I've never acted in all my years."

"But you would be perfect for the role of Poppa the old Steam Engine," She told him.

"Well I don't know…"

"Bustopher Jones," She said in a kinder tone. "You are Skimbleshanks's best friend."

"I see no reason to hold that against me," The Twenty-five ponder said disgruntled.

Undaunted she continued, "Bustopher, please I need you act in this! You're the only one who can play Dustin the Big Hooper!"

"What me, play a Choo Choo Train!"

"No Uncle, a Hooper is a freight car," Misto informed him.

"A common freight car! A cat of my standing?" The large tuxedo meowed outraged.

"But Dustin is a very important character," Jenny told him hoping to sooth his ire.

He just growled in response.

"Rum Tum Tugger, you are the most popular in the tribe," She said through gritted teeth.

"Naturally," Tugger said with pride.

"If you act the play the others will want to be in it too."

"And Quaxo."

"Mistoffelees." He corrected. "I'm going by name the family gave me. It's really Mr. Mistoffelees, but I feel asking everyone to call me Mr. Mistoffelees is a bit much."

"I don't mind calling you Mr. Mistoffelees," Tugger interjected.

"Thank you," Misto told him giving him a head-butt.

"Mistoffelees, your Bustopher Jones's nephew I can't snob you it would offend him."

"What?" The magical cat asked dismayed.

"Well, there's really nothing else about you," She said rather oblivious to fact that she had just hurt Mistoffelees feelings.

"Jennyanydots!" Old Deuteronomy reprimanded her. "You may be a full grown queen with grown daughters, but that dose not give you the right to putting other cats down because you are unable to see their true worth!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I just don't know what to do with him," Jennyanydots said exasperatedly. "He so shy and not very popular, his singing is so-so though, but nothing special," She finished her criticism thoughtfully.

"You, do realizes that criticizing my nephew which is obviously do to your petty jealousy over the fact that he is the best dancer in the whole tribe meaning he is a better dancer then you especially in tap dancing, that you are offending me," Bustopher Jones told her flatly.

"Oh!" Jennyanydots said completely flustered her tail switching side to side.

"Speaking of snubbing cats," Deuteronomy began hoping to stop the ensuing fight between the Gumbie cat and Cat About Town. "I'm am surprised you did not include Munkustrap in this."

"Well," Jennyanydots answered nervously. "You know I love Munkustrap as if he was own and he has many wonderful qualities, really Mistoffelees you should try to be more like him."

"Ew!" Tugger spat disgusted by the idea.

"But, you see," She continued uncertainly. "Munkustrap he means well I'm sure, but he…"

"Micro manages anything he can sink his claws in,"Tugger finished for her.

"Yes!" Jennyanydots said. "And I have everything all planed out, and knowing Munkustrap he'd want to change things and omit numbers and characters and decide who should play whom, that's why I didn't include him.

"I understand," The old cat assured her.

"So Old Deuteronomy, may we preform the play and will you be in it?" The Gumbie cat asked him.

"Wait!" Mistoffelees implored before the old cat could answer. "Old Deuteronomy, if you give permission to preform this play doom will befall the entire tribe!" The magic cat finished frantically waving his paws up and down in the same mystical fashion he had done earlier.

"I thank you, for your warning," Old Deuteronomy said clearly not believing him, but having the decently not to at least laugh. "But I see no harm in preforming Skimbleshanks play."

"Besides," Jenny chimed in. "Tantomile and Coricopat would be here if there was any real doom to be prophesized. Dose this mean we can do the play?"

"Yes I think it shall be fun."

At that moment somewhere in the nearby village two identical cats woke up from their nap in the sun with a hiss each as a feeling of impending doom crept over them.

[marinette-sky]

Cigarettes and Leather Ch. 3

(A/N: I'm back from the dead, everyone! Hip hip hurray! I apologize for the long wait, I got caught up in testing, school, and family stuff (did you know I just had a birthday? wild I'm getting old).This chapter is from Adrien's POV, like many of you had asked for. This is the final character fodder I will implement, because from here on it will just be dorks and shenanigans (and drama of course!)

Summary:  Adrien Agreste does, in fact, have a heart. And it does a good job at being an asshole. (which is redundant, because that is exactly what Plagg is for!)

Word Count: 4,728

The chatter of students and the accustomed sounds of nature filled Adrien’s ears as he held the recently lit cigarette between his teeth, inhaling deeply despite the unpleasant feeling that prickled the back of his throat as a result. He blew out lazily, watching past the dispersing smog with a glazed stare until the fence that separated the school from the public and the blue hue of the sky melded together into a single entity. Somewhere in the background, Plagg was mumbling insults from the small amount of camembert he received from the little container hidden in Adrien’s jacket pocket, but he couldn’t have cared less.

Plagg gets lethargic when I give him too much of that rancid cheese, anyways.

Adrien lifted the cig to his lips yet again, this time puffing lightly as he tapped his fingers on the side of his jacket to stave off the feeling of restlessness welling inside him. He knew why he was so anxious, but he didn’t really understand why it made him feel that way, nor did he really want to think about it right then.

Besides, he always opted to light a cigarette when confronted with an internal dilemma.

Smoking was one of the only methods that kept his thoughts and feelings in the calm, like an anchor in the midst of a stormy sea. Yes, he did it to be rebellious against the atrociously cold and calculating man he had for a father, but it was also like taking a dose of reality a couple times a day; his reality and connection to the life of a normal teenager used to be his late mother, but that was three years ago, and this was now.

And right now, he was in dire need for a good smoke.

Well, that, and a good excuse to escape Chloe’s clinginess and Lila’s flirting.

Chloe hated the smell of cigarette smoke and Lila knew well enough to stay away from Adrien when he was getting his daily fix (most of the time), so it worked out in his favor. He almost felt bad for yelling at Chloe earlier that afternoon, when he was at the peak of his bad mood, and the talk with Marinette was still circling his thoughts like a vulture. It was an almost immediate reaction, the way he shook her from his bicep and expressed his desire to be “left alone for a while” a little too harshly for someone of her personality. He heard Lila laugh at her rejection from somewhere behind him, and felt Marinette’s judgmental gaze pressing into his back like a steam-iron.

Chloe looked so appalled and embarrassed he nearly consoled her right then and there.

Nearly.

The memories of her antics towards Marinette Dupain-Cheng the morning before prickled in his mind, and Adrien could suddenly feel nothing but anger and cold disappointment towards her. Before he could do or say anything more brash and hurtful, Adrien had just stomped off with each footstep more forceful then the last.

Sure, he had acknowledged the mean-spirited prank before when he apologized to Marinette on behalf of his dumbass of a childhood friend, but the feelings he felt then were not present when he talked with her before. He had always held some kind of respect for her, but now it was different. It was like his attitude towards her changed drastically overnight, based on the reason that he actually got to know a little more about her then he should have and learned that she wasn’t just good at being an annoyance in his life.

She’s good at being witty, brave, kind (when I’m not an instigator), and her ability to defend herself was impressive.

Not to mention I’ve always thought that she’s sort of cute…

Adrien slammed his hand into the wall behind him, crumpling the still burning cigarette between his clenched fingers. Plagg jumped away from him, dropping his camembert in surprise.

What the hell am I even thinking?

He really needed to shove those thoughts deep down inside, and kick Marinette the hell from his mind. Yeah, she’s pretty cool and all now that he knows she’s not a complete goody-two-shoe, but he doesn’t like her in that way. He was probably still feeling the lingering effect of their conversation.  

Right?

“Adrien, what the heck?! You made me drop my cheese…” Plagg was in his face, not looking too pleased with his little outburst of anger.

“My bad, Plagg. I just…never mind, I’m just being moody.” Adrien brushed the cigarette ashes from his palm, wincing a little as he touched the fresh, red burn mark caused by the butt of the stick.

“Fuck…!” Oh, it hurt alright.

Curse my fucking stupidity, I have a shoot tomorrow!

“What has been with you lately? You’ve been acting weird since yesterday ever since you talked with that pig-tailed lady you argue with sometimes.” The kwami sighed and shook his head, staring down at the singe on Adrien’s flesh with distaste and what he assumed to be slight pity. He was sadder to see his camembert fall then to see his chosen injure himself, which Adrien found bitterly amusing.

“I’m not acting weird! And what does she have to do with this?” She had a lot to do with his recent behavior, but he would never tell Plagg that. Saying it out loud would mean endless teasing from the kwami, and he certainly did not want to be reminded of it every time he transformed to fight crime with Ladybug.

“You are acting weird, and ever since you suddenly apologized to that girl-”

“Marinette.”

“-yeah, yeah, Marinette, you’ve just been not yourself. Like, you’ve been showing more of your inner dork, instead of your tough guy façade.” Plagg rolled his eyes, and puffed up his tiny chest to imitate Adrien for emphasis.

“I’m not a dork.”

“Yes you are, and you acted like it when she tried to complement you, but you just walked away.”

“She acted like I couldn’t be a decent human being to anyone up until then, Plagg! I wasn’t about to just take her bullshit.” Adrien had every right to walk away, even if what she said was intended to be a complement. “I may be a hypocrite, but it was rude.”

Plagg leaned back into nothing with close eyes, carefully contemplating his words.

Uh-oh.

Whenever Plagg actually thought about something, he tended to give painfully accurate advice. Adrien often forgot that he was thousands of years old, and that just because his little friend chose not to spout pearls of wisdom all the time did not mean he was not wise.

The kwami grinned, lifting both eyelids to form an arrogant squint.

“You say that, but don’t forget that you’re the one who is always a jerk to everyone, and you were especially jerk-y to her yesterday. I think what she said is fairly justified, considering you were technically the one that got the both of you in trouble in the first place.” He saw Adrien’s brief look of confusion and added “You know, the whole assault ordeal and the visit to the principle’s office?”

Adrien opened and closed his mouth, thoroughly and utterly speechless against his reasoning.

Goddammit, Plagg is right.

He hated when Plagg was right.

“…I wasn’t trying to be a jerk yesterday, and I didn’t know she would react like that when I grabbed her wrist.” Adrien said quietly, dropping his stare to the pavement in spite.

“If I were you, kid, I would apologize to her after school today for the entire mess you made. Honestly, you could have avoided this entire thing if you swallowed your pride and said sorry like a normal person yesterday. Now your father has to find out about this, plus you have detention…” Plagg kept talking about all the consequences to his actions, but Adrien decided he would just deal with them when the time came.

Maybe apologizing to her for everything will resolve all the weirdness and tension?

As much as he apologized for every tiny thing when he was Chat Noir, he found it strangely bearable to apologize to Marinette as Adrien Agreste. There was something about her that just warranted it, similar to the feeling he got whenever he messed up in front of Ladybug.

Yet…

Truthfully, he didn’t really quite understand his own reasoning behind the impromptu ‘I’m sorry’ he told her the day before; it could have been the way she reminded him so much of his alternate persona when transformed, like when he gets bested by an akuma victim.

Either way, if saying sorry for everything relieves the burden of awkward tension between the two of them, Adrien can go back to his normal delinquent life and Marinette can go back to giving him an occasional scolding for it.

The harmony would be restored.

Or maybe, a little voice in the back of his head whispered, you could take this time to befriend her, since now you know she is actually a cool and interesting person who fights better then you!

Now, that was an entertaining thought, as sarcastic as it may be.

Before, he only ever saw Marinette as the only girl who had any guts to call Adrien out on his wrong doings (excluding Alya, the walking-talking hurricane who would and could flat line him in an instance). He had an inkling of admiration for her sass talk and never even dreamed to pursue a relationship past their heated banter. But, after being forced to his knees in the epic display of her badass self-defense skills, and being on the receiving end of Marinette’s infamous ‘sugar smile’, he has changed his tune towards the female considerably.

“Maybe…” Adrien echoed aloud, interrupting Plagg’s pessimistic rant.

“What?” Plagg inquired, perplexed at his chosen’s mumbling.

Adrien just smirked at him and did not say anything for the rest of their lunch period.

---

The final bell of the day rang over the speakers, signaling the end of class for the students. Adrien, who had impatient for school to end since lunch time, slouched deeper in his seat on the first row with relief as his classmates slowly filed from the room, their incessant talking drowning out the shouts of that night’s assignment from Mrs. Bustier. Nino managed to give him a parting fist-bump before Kim and Ivan swept his best friend away in a wave of boyish shouts and back slaps, both sparing a sympathetic glance in his direction as they hurried out the door.

Chloe sashayed past him with Sabrina in tow, making a point to stare straight ahead to show she was still mad about earlier; not that she needed to say it out loud, either, the angry click of her heels were enough of a hint. Sabrina just offered him a grim smile that made her frail appearance seem even more breakable, like worn glass.

I wonder if Chloe took her anger out on Sabrina again, which would explain why she looks like shes about to cry…

Then again, Sabrina always had that expression on her face whenever Chloe threw a temper tantrum, so it was probably nothing he should worry about. He could leave those kinds of feelings to Chat Noir.

Chat Noir was good at sorting his thoughts and feelings when it came to the people around him.

Someone placed a firm hand on his shoulder, pinching the material of his jacket between their thin fingers in an effort to gain attention. Adrien glanced up with disinterest, unsurprised to find Lila Rossi looking at him with sticky-sweet sympathy.

It seems almost believable.

“Your handsome face is so troubled, Adrien! Is there anything I can do to get you out of this?” Lila cooed, leaning down. One of her pony-tails brushed his cheek, while the scent of her spicy perfume crowded his nostrils.

Adrien felt himself frown.

Too close.

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t ya think?” Adrien was in no mood to humor her, nor did he very much like when she rested her other hand on his forearm. “Besides, you don’t have a damn clue what I did.”

“Oh, but I know it has to do with Marinette. Just say the word, and I can make up a lie…” Her olive green eyes twinkled with mischief, but there was something else there too.

Something darker, with less discernable intentions.

“I’ll pass, Lila.” Adrien feigned a smirk, and stretched his arms behind his head to effectively shake himself of her grip. “I’m used to this, remember?”

Lila bit her lip, obviously displeased with his decision. She took a step back, glaring not at him, but someone above them.

He noticed that the conversation Marinette and Alya had been carrying on since the bell rang came to a stop.

Lila turned her attention back to him.

“Its that Marinette girl, isn’t it?” She suddenly claimed, leaning down once more, but with more force. You never turn down my offers! What happened between you two?”

Adrien was taken aback, and he couldn’t conceal the shock on his face that showed it.

Pull yourself together! Her claim is baseless and vague!

“What the fuck do you mean? I just don’t fuckin’ feel like getting’ in trouble more with this particular incident.” Adrien chose his words carefully, very resilient to admit to his gang member of what had transpired between them yesterday, and today for that matter.

What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.

“Bullshit. I know you, Adrien. If it wasn’t that goody-two-shoes, it has to be something else big, or at least it better be.”

“You don’t know jack shit about me, Lila. Mind your own fuckin’ business for once, will ya?!” Adrien was SO not in the mood for Lila’s nosy, busy-body, jealous bullshit.

Cry me a river and get over it, fox.

“I know more than you think, Agreste! I worry about you sometimes…” Lila crossed her arms, genuinely exasperated. Their angry whispering had caused the teacher to spare a concerned glance in their direction.

“Yeah, well, you can go stick that worried friend act in ah bottle and put a damn cork in it, because I suddenly remembered I don’t want to fuckin’ talk to a nosy liar right now.”

Lila’s expression shimmered with hurt, but there was something seething beneath all the distress. All at once, she stood up straight while flipping a thick pony-tail over her leather-clad shoulder, huffing.  

Your loss, then.” Her tone was casual, but it held venom, and Adrien knew he would get a million texts (and phone calls) from the female later that night asking why he acted like that towards her.

“Guess so.” He retorted, shrugging despite himself and giving her a teeth-ful of snark.

Lila was gone from the classroom in a flash, taking the overpowering smell of seductive spices and tension with her. Adrien would have laughed at her abrupt departure had it not been for the off-hand comment he heard Alya ask Marinette.

“What the hell was her problem? That stare was so cold I swear my body temperature went down…” Alya grumbled, completely unaware of his eavesdropping.

“I don’t know, but then again its Lila. Just ignore her.” Marinette replied, equally oblivious.

“No, girl, she was looking at you, not me.”

“What? I turned around too late, I guess. She did seem peeved at Adrien, though…”

“Yeah? Well, what else is new? I’m more worried about you, girl.”

“Huh? Why? I’m sure she was just being prissy…”

“Uh-huh. Did you do something to her, Marinette?”

“I haven’t even said anything to her since last week-”

CLAP!

Mrs. Bustier, who until then had been stacking papers, clapped loudly at them. Adrien didn’t know when she had taken to standing in front of his desk without him noticing, but decided not to make a comment. The smile she wore was deceptive, if not intimidating.

“Alya, if you are done chatting with Marinette, I would like to begin her after school detention. Also, after that little display I just saw happen between Lila and Adrien, I’m afraid the same might transpire between you two, too.” Mrs. Bustier gestured to the door, and Adrien turned around in his seat to watch Alya gather her things together. She murmured a quick good-bye to Marinette before flying out of the room, leaving the door open ajar.

The smile on the teacher’s face faded into a grimace as soon as Alya left. She turned back to them, the mint of her eyes devoid of warmth.

“You two won’t fight, will you? There seems to have been a lot of that happening within my student body, it seems…” Mrs. Bustier trailed off, her cool green stare landing on Adrien.

Adrien coughed, and shook his head begrudgingly, noticing from his peripheral vision that Marinette did the same.

Their teacher smiled bitterly at their consensus.

“I’m sure you two know why you are in here, then, so I do not need to remind you, correct?” Mrs. Bustier nodded to the both of them, arms now crossed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Marinette responded politely.

Mrs. Bustier looked at him expectantly.

Seriously? I’m all out of politeness today, come back tomorrow.

“What are we doing today?” Adrien supplied instead, skipping the introductory. The sooner he could talk with Marinette, the better. That conversation with Lila left him angry and a tiny bit worried, so he needed to talk to her today, before anything else could bog him down.

Because Lila definitely will find a way to buffer his possible chance at being friends with Marinette if she manages to snag information on what happened.

“Well, right now, nothing because I need to go make copies of tomorrow’s assignment…but I don’t want to leave you two alone without supervision.” Their teacher glanced at the piles of paper on her desk, and sighed. Adrien noticed the jumble of keys on her belt loop and quickly formed an idea.

I swear, I’m a genius! Take that Plagg!

“Mrs, Bustier, if I may? I have a resolution to your problem.” Adrien offered up his strongest gentleman smile, fighting off any hint of a smirk.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Bustier humored him, giving him a tiny smile that said ‘watch yourself’.

“I see you have a room key, so to ensure we don’t leave the class, lock us in. It’s not like we can use a window of we’re two floors up, either; that’s suicide.”

The older female upturned her lips in thought, looking from the stack of papers, to them, and then to the copying room across the indoor veranda that was the terminales floor. After a few moments of deep deliberation, she tuned back to them in full, smiling genuinely.

“Adrien Agreste, your reputation is not the best but you have never failed my class for the four years I’ve had you. If anything, you always seemed to earn the highest grade in here out of anyone. That’s trust-worthy enough, but I’ll only allow this is Marinette is okay with it. Marinette?” They both turned to her, and Adrien could swear she shivered visibly when she looked into his verdant stare briefly.

Come through, you tough sugar cookie, come through!

Marinette took in a rather shaky breath, and looked only at Adrien when she spoke, surprisingly enough.

“I’m okay with it, Mrs. Bustier. I have something to discuss with Adrien, anyways.” Those cobalt eyes drilled into his figure, a hint of guilt swimming in her iris’s. What could she possibly have to say to him that wasn’t ‘fuck you’?

Guess I’ll find out.

“Wonderful! Depending on how slow the copier decides to be, I’ll be back in as little as ten minutes. Behave, you two!” Their teacher exclaimed, collecting her filing folders. A minute later, she had locked the door and began making her way to the copy room, probably anxious to finish the rest of her workload for the day.

And just like that, they were alone in the room together.

Both teens busied themselves in getting comfortable. Adrien did a 180 in his seat, leaning his back against the desk while crossing his legs on the bench. His jacket squeaked from the friction, and he felt Plagg re-situate himself inside the hidden pocket. Marinette tucked one leg inside the depths of her pleated skirt while the other leg hung limply from her perch, softly tapping the glazed finish of the wood.

Now that he could fully get a look at her without any pressing distractions (or conversations), Marinette managed to appear pretty in the most unassuming way. Her coat was tastefully wrinkled and creased, with one button at the top of the vest left undone. Both of her pigtails had been painstakingly groomed and conditioned to be the exact same length, despite how frizzy her hair was at this point in the day. The skirt that hid one of her legs splayed over the bench and rested an inch past the cap of her knee, longer then what most girls preferred their skirts to be. She was slouched over the desk slightly now, the sweep of her bangs casting a timid shadow on the freckles peppering her nose and cheeks.  It was as if he were to blink, he would miss Marinette in all her imperfect majesty.

Say something, nerd! His conscious admonished, snapping him from his reverie.

“I have another apology for you.” Adrien admitted casually, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck. Marinette looked surprised, but at least she didn’t seem uninterested.

That, or she was a very convincing actor.

“Yeah? You and me both,” She replied, hastily adding, “A-An apology for you, too, I mean.”

Oh?

“Really? I’ll go first, then…” Adrien took a moment to compose his thoughts, trying his best to maintain eye contact with the girl across from him to show he was serious.

Here went nothing.

“I’m, ah, really sorry I got us into this entire damn mess. It was my fault that I…well, rather than saying sorry to you like ah’ normal fuckin’ person, I approached you like an asshole and even put my hands on you. Look, ever since yesterday, there has been this weird tension between us and I know you’re super freakin’ weirded out by me, darlin’, because we never talk like this but…yeah, I’m just really sorry about this entire damn thing.”

Adrien paused, dissatisfied with how his apology came out.

“Y’know, that sounded a whole lot cooler in my head. Figures, don’t it?” He grumbled to himself, causing the girl to break out into laughter. It was high and clear-cut, reminding him very much of Ladybug’s laughter.

A beat of silence spread between them before Marinette spoke.

“As long as you’re truly sorry, Agreste, I forgive you. I mean, you’re not fully redeemed yet, but it’s a start.” She played with a lock of her raven hair as she said this, looking more relieved than anything.

Strange girl.

“So…we good?” He questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yes, but I owe you an apology too. First off, I’m sorry I kicked your butt yesterday and that your father had to find out. Second off, I’m sorry about what I said earlier, or what I implied. It was insensitive of me.” Marinette smiled shyly at him, looking like she wanted to say more but couldn’t find the right words.

You and me both, darlin’.

“Well, t’be fair, I act like I don’t have a nice bone in my body. Its no wonder your judgment’s a little warped.” Adrien held up his hands, chuckling. The awkward tension from before was dissipating, and a more comfortable atmosphere had fallen over them.

“True, but I figured you couldn’t be that bad since you chose not to sue lil’ ole me.” Marinette teased, threading her fingers together.

“Oh, that was fuckin’ wild! Imagine, the trouble-maker being offered to sue the goody-two-shoes!” He shook his head at the irony, recalling his own miffed emotions at the time. “Shit, to think it just happened earlier…”

“I know, right? I felt bad for losing my temper, Mr. Damocles looked as if he-”

“Pissed himself?”

“Yeah.” She giggled, their conversation hitting a lull.

Adrien studied Marinette for a few moments, taking in their newfound attitudes towards each other. She forgave him fairly easily, while he just as easily forgave her. Plus, she was easy to talk to. It was so peculiar, and frankly scary, how well they got along without a crowd to impress. This caused him to wonder why he didn’t try to pursue something with the female earlier then now, like in their first year. If he had become friends with her then, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe…

No.

They were from two different worlds, practically. He grew up with strict parents, and even stricter rules. She grew up with loving parents, and rules that remained unbroken. His rebellious tendencies had been present ever since he learned to lie, and it had really peaked when his mother disappeared. She had been showered with love from her still-present mother all her life, with no discernable behavioral issues to be found.

Adrien Agreste was a delinquent (while Chat Noir was a golden mess), and Marinette Dupain-Cheng was kind-hearted with a thirst for justice.  

But, a late start is better than no start at all.

“Hey, Adrien, I have a serious question for you.” Marinette suddenly said, frowning. Adrien looked up, blushing lightly from the fact that he had been caught staring.

“Try me.” He replied, mirroring her frown.

Marinette shook her pigtails slightly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she wedged a closed fist under her chin.

She was the perfect picture of curiosity.

“What was the real reason you apologized to me? And don’t give me that dumb excuse from yesterday, I hate when people lie to me.” Adrien felt his throat close up, and he had to force himself out of the staring contest had been having with her up until then. Chat Noir was usually good at dealing with mushy bullshit such as this, not Adrien Agreste.

But Marinette asked you, not Chat Noir. Stop being a pussy.

“Uh, well…look, darlin’, I’m not too sure myself. For the most part, you reminded me of someone…close to me who gets shit on all the time like you do from Chloe. I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit yesterday, and so it just felt right to apologize. You dig?” Adrien felt his face warm with embarrassment, and he knew he would have to walk on eggshells if she asked about whom that ‘someone’ was.

Marinette kept the frown on her face for all but a second more, than smiled at him brightly.

“Good enough for me. You really are a good guy underneath all that cigarette smoke and leather.” She quipped, lifting her head from her hand. This made Adrien laugh, and for once it was genuine.

Safe, for now.

“I’m beginning to see why everyone likes you, Marinette, because I’m beginning to.” He said without thinking, reaching up to close the short distance between their desks and clapping a hand over hers.

The move was so involuntary and his words so superfluous that he almost didn’t catch the underlying meaning.

Marinette, unprepared for this sudden confession, kind of gaped at him. A flattered blush bloomed on her cheeks and spread to her nose, dusting over all her freckles like seeds on a strawberry.

What…?

Adrien, abruptly realizing his implication, removed his hand from hers at the speed of light.

Shit. That’s not what I meant.

“Fuck, hold on. I meant as friends, darlin’, as friends.” Adrien rushed to assure her, gesticulating like crazy to prove so. He saw the tension in her shoulders leave, and noticed she had lowered her eyelids considerably in the last few seconds.

Should I be offended?

“Oh, good…I mean, I knew that. Of course. Friends is doable.” She fluttered a hand over her sternum, obviously indicating she was thinking the other way around.

She looked him up and down again, and repeated with a smile “Definitely doable.”

Unable to help himself, Adrien winked.

“Yes, I am doable, darlin’.”

For the rest of detention, he was nursing a bruised cheek from the book bag Marinette had launched at his face.

[tuxiedjabberwock]

Boiling Point ch3 - a Fairy Tail fan-fiction

Title: Boiling Point Category: Anime/Manga » Fairy Tail Author: Sqydd Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Romance/Drama Published: 12-10-16, Updated: 02-18-17 Chapters: 3, Words: 15,754

Due to a severe misunderstanding printed in Sorcerer's Weekly, Lucy goes out with Loki to eliminate the idea that she's dating Natsu. How does he feel about it? Well, he rightly went to kick Loki's ass. Or the story in which Natsu reaches his boiling point, because no one steals from a dragon.

Also available on:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12267597/3/Boiling-Point

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8803069/chapters/22031423

» chapter three

» in which lucy does something they’ll both regret

“Ooh, Ricardo,” Vanessa moaned as she swooned into Ricardo’s strong, tanned arms, “I would never have imagined that you, of all people, would capture my heart.”

 “My love, nobody could catch that burning phoenix,” he replied, brushing soft lips against her forehead and tucking loose strands of brunette hair behind her flushing ear. “You’ve only given to me what I’ve silently prayed for for years.”

 “Ricardo,” she whispered lovingly, reaching up and caressing the sharp line of his jaw.

 “Vanessa,” he said in the same tone, as if she was his sun, his moon, his stars, the tone that made her feel as if she was flying and falling all at the same time. Slowly they gravitated towards each other, the wind calming to a standstill as the heavens above went to witness the perfect pieces of each other—

 Lucy dropped her pen with a sigh, arching her back and stretching her arms. She had a pretty productive night by her usual standards—she might even have a whole chapter ready for Levy by tomorrow. She got up to eat some salad from the fridge, then took a bath and brushed her teeth. It was when she was about to close her window to stave off the cold night air that she realized something a bit alarming: Natsu hadn’t come by. He always came by religiously just as she was getting into the bath.

 Maybe he’s still sore from that fight with Laxus, she thought, hands still curled around the window. It was a possibility, but injury has never stopped him before. He couldn’t have been at the Guild either, since it was closed by that time, so he must’ve been at his place, the place he barely spent any time at. She waited by her window for five minutes more before shutting it with a disappointed sigh. Had it been anyone else, she would’ve assumed that he had finally taken her “get outs” seriously, but he was Natsu.

 “Could you for once not break into my house like a bandit?” Lucy sighed, dropping her purse and shaking her head at the sight of Natsu and his partner-in-crime lounging in her armchair and eating off her watermelon for the third time that week. (Never mind the mess they were making—watermelon was expensively out of season!)

 “Aw, but that’s half the fun!” Happy protested, at which Natsu vehemently nodded to. He probably would’ve agreed aloud had his mouth not been stuffed, not that that ever stopped him before.

 “Don’t you guys have other places to break into, like Gray’s apartment? It’s a lot bigger than here.” She picked up Natsu’s sandals, which he’d tossed across the floor, and set them in front of the door.

 “Why would I?” he said, swallowing. “It stinks like him—I’d never get the smell outta my nose.” She didn’t think Gray smelled as bad as Natsu frequently complained about, then again she didn’t have a Dragon Slayer’s nose, and she also didn’t despise him as much.

 “Actually, Gray smells sweet to me. Kind of like ice cream,” she said thoughtfully.

 “Really?” Natsu’s mouth skewed as he exchanged a look with Happy, then he muttered something under his breath he quickly covered up with more watermelon.

 “Hey, don’t get the juice everywhere! I just cleaned!” She worked on shooing Happy and his pile of raw fish from her manuscripts while Natsu practiced his sharpshooting skills by aiming the seeds at a lamp. “Natsu! Why don’t you just take my watermelon and go home?” she grumbled.

 “Because it’s more fun being here with you,” he answered easily. “Right, Happy?”

 “Aye!”

 “I don’t see how it’s fun to mess up my stuff,” she pointed out. He grinned at her in response.

 “’cause you need to loosen up some. It’s fun here, messin’ with you and seeing you pull your hair out.” He sniggered as she growled at him. “And I like being here with you, too.”

 In the morning, she would surely go find out what was wrong.

It costed her a fair amount of beauty sleep, but Lucy woke up early to start the trek to Natsu’s house. By the time she made it, the two had already left for the Guild, so it was simple for her to get in.

 She had almost forgotten the huge mess that they lived in. Old clothes, dirty dishes, and half-eaten meals were everywhere, and that wasn’t even including his “junk collection.” Still, she pushed up the sleeves of her pale pink cardigan and got to work—summoning Gemini to help.

 “Why are we rooting through his stuff instead of asking him?” they asked off the bat, staring at Lucy with her own ruffled expression. Lucy huffed as she worked on sorting through a pile of charred firewood.

 “Because he won’t say anything. I’ve never seen Natsu hold onto a secret as hard as this.”

 “But won’t he be upset when he finds out you were snooping, if he’s intent on keeping this a secret?”

 “He’d be more upset to see his secret hurt our friendship,” she pronounced, dropping Gemini into a thoughtful silence.

 “…Lucy,” they started, then stopped, then rephrased their words: “Have you considered that maybe, Natsu likes you? It’s possible considering how he’s been acting lately.”

 “No way,” she said immediately, looking up at them. “Natsu’s a slave to his emotions—always has been. If he felt something for me—and trust me, I’ve checked,” she added, thinking of her prodding him on two separate occasions, “then he would’ve made some sort of slip-up, or at least told me.”

 “We think you’re underestimating his emotional capacity,” they remarked. “He’s shown that he can be caring a lot of times, like when you were taken by Jose, when you were beaten by Minerva, when Éclair died… Maybe he just can’t express love in means that you understand?”

 It was an interesting thought, actually. Natsu vibrated on a frequency that very little humans could comprehend. Maybe then, he was confessing/expression his love for her, but in very Natsu-like terms. But that couldn’t be, because he never said anything about her going on dates, not even with Loki. For someone that was constantly open with whatever he was feeling, she highly doubted that he would take that in stride. Then again, Natsu did a lot of things pretty weird…

 “And besides,” they added as an afterthought, “you already like him, so it wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”

 “I don’t—I don’t like Natsu!” she protested, red burning on her cheeks as she accidently toppled a stack of dirty dishes in her flustered state. They fell and smashed into pieces over the concrete. “Oh damn it,” she muttered, getting on her hands and knees to work on collecting the bits.

 “You can’t lie to us, Lucy—we see your thoughts.”

 “I… Maybe, but it’s a little crush, it’s nothing serious,” she said lowly.

 “And you think that going out with Loki would change that?”

 “I don’t know. That’s not what I had in mind either, going out with him. It’s just, he’s been begging for a date for a long time, so I thought why not?”

 “Well, because of that what if scenario, Natsu attacked him,” Gemini said blandly. “You know it wasn’t just a coincidence.” Lucy fell silent as she collected the clay shards into a pile. “We’re just saying, Lucy, that if he is in love with you—”

 “Ow!” Lucy cried, interrupting them. A piece of clay had stuck into her palm, cutting a clean line from the base of her pinky to her thumb. She hissed in pain at the injury, then blood started running in a stream down her palm and arm. Gemini started towards her, then the door slamming open caught their attention.

 “Lucy I smelled blood!” Natsu exclaimed, eyes narrowed and fists clenched as he looked around. Once he was sure there was no one there to punch, he marched over to her purposefully and crouched down to her height. “What happened?” he demanded. He didn’t sound particularly upset—did he not hear any of what they were saying? Actually, as Lucy looked around, Gemini had oddly taken their leave. Wow.

 “Nothing, I uh, didn’t you hear anything? I thought you were going to the Guild?”

 “I came back ‘cause I forgot my money, and Mira won’t spare me any freebies today.” He pouted for a moment, bringing a small smile to Lucy’s lips before the pain brought her back to the moment. He extended a hand and she rested her arm in his calloused grip easily, trusting. His skin warmed fractionally as he inspected the wound, and the heat made her sigh in relief as the pain waned a bit. “I wasn’t even paying attention—well, not until I got close and I heard you in pain.” She blushed slightly at the implication but he didn’t even notice, scrutinizing her hand with the expertise of one that had experienced more than his own fair share of injuries. “It’s not that deep,” he sighed with relief, leaning back on his heels. He walked off to a smaller pile of his stuff and started rooting through it. “Why’d you come here anyway?”

 “I was…worried,” she admitted. “You didn’t come over last night.” He tensed but quickly resumed his search.

 “Sorry, I crashed kinda early.” His voice came out strained, which she picked up on immediately: it was his guilty tone.

 “Natsu.”

 “That’s the truth, really.” He came up with a battered first-aid kit and returned to her side, drawing a towel from the case.

 “Isn’t this your workout towel?”

 “It’s clean, trust me—I washed it myself.” She did not, in fact, trust his cleaning capabilities, not after seeing how much of a wreck he slept on top of every night. But if nothing else, he was surprisingly gentle as he took her arm and carefully wiped away the blood. She barely even felt any pain as he swiped across her palm. “Clumsy,” he muttered.

 “What?”

 “You’re clumsy,” he repeated louder, taking out a bottle of alcohol and dousing the towel with it.

 “You’re not going to change…?”

 “Why? It’s still a good towel.” I guess this is why he’s not a doctor, she thought, deadpanning as he used the last bit of clean space on the towel to clean the area. How does he even survive, living like this? “And I’m not clumsy.”

 “Then how did you smash those plates?” he challenged with a smirk.

 “Because you don’t know how to put things away! I don’t know why you have cupboards and shelves in the first place!”

 “I keep clothes and stuff in there,” he explained.

 “What sense does that make?” He was bandaging now, which was just as crude as his cleaning technique.

 “Well, clean clothes, so I can know which are clean and which aren’t. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

 “No.”

 “Well it’s ‘cause girls are weird about their stuff. Like you have an entire drawer for your underwear—well, there’s a lot of it, so I guess it’s warranted—”

 “Wha— When did you go looking through my underwear drawer?” she demanded, red in the face from embarrassment and anger. He didn’t quite catch on, staring at her blankly.

 “While you were taking a bath that one time. Happy and I were using your underwear like slingshots, then we got bored and used your bras as parachutes. They didn’t work,” he complained.

 “Because that’s not what they’re for, you stupid dragon!”

 “You don’t need to shout in my face,” he grumbled, clasping the cloth and ensuring it was tight enough not to fall off. He looked up, mouth open for another smart comment, when their eyes met. They were close, unexpectedly so, and the distance made her heart skip a beat, which she blushed at when she realized Natsu could certainly hear it.

 “Well…thank you,” she mumbled in a rush, getting to her feet. She was prepared to dart home and pretend the whole thing never happened when, suddenly, his rough hand clasped around her good one, squeezing slightly to catch her attention. She turned to ask him what was the matter but the words fell flat on her tongue when she met his eyes. He was staring at her with his usual Natsu expression, but somehow it seemed more…personal? She swallowed and licked her lips anxiously, and he followed her tongue with his eyes seemingly unconsciously.

 “Wait,” he said after what felt like an eternity, his voice low. He was still gazing at her with all the intensity of a burning bonfire, eyes dark, and she felt more blood rise to her face the longer he watched her. Then he released her, shifting his hand to cup her cheek. His palm is still warm like a hearth, and her eyelids fluttered at the contact. One of them drew a sharp breath—she wasn’t even sure who in her fugue. His callouses gently scraped across her face as he took a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Here,” he said, effectively breaking the spell as he tugged her hair slightly. Her eyes widened as he brought his hand down, showing her an old fish skeleton. “This was caught in your hair.”

 “Na— You moron!” she shrieked, embarrassed beyond belief as her foot went flying into his stomach. He was reeling from the impact, probably more from surprise than pain as she was sure she twisted her ankle from the attack, but she took the reprieve all the same to beat her hasty retreat. He probably thought she was crazy, but she couldn’t even manage to care. Instead, his facial expression was filling every brain cell, even if it wasn’t genuine.

 Maybe he just can’t express love in means that you understand? Gemini had said, and maybe it was true. But if it was true that Natsu was in love with her, and there was a teeny tiny chance that maybe perhaps she lo—liked him back, then what would that mean for the two of them? That was the most chilling thought of all.

It wasn’t often that Team Natsu had time for vacations, mostly because it seemed that at every turn, there was some new catastrophe happening, and in the case of the Tower of Heaven, it happened while they were on vacation. Still, they had to at least try, so one sunny weekend while Natsu, Lucy, and Gray were having lunch at the Guild, Erza marched over and slapped four tickets down on the table.

 “What are these?” Lucy asked, looking up from her smoothie.

 “There’s a new beach resort in a town a few miles from here,” she explained. “I did a favor earlier for the owner, so he provided some complimentary tickets. I decided that we could all use a little getaway.”

 “Actually, I was gonna go a fishing trip with Happy,” Natsu said.

 “And there’s a new ice cream shop in downtown Hargeon I wanted to check out,” Gray added.

 “I had some shopping to do,” Lucy said helplessly. Erza’s eyes gained a nasty glint as the next thing that hit the table was her metal fist.

 “I said that we could use a getaway!” she repeated with an edge to her tone.

 “A-Aye!” they agreed, completely changing their tune. The glint turned into a full-blown sparkle as she smiled victoriously.

 “We’re catching the train at noon, so be packed by then.”

 “Train?” Natsu squeaked, paling. “Can’t we walk, or can’t we run?”

 “We’re not all wild animals like you, Hothead,” Gray muttered.

 “Yeah? Well you smell like one.”

 “At least I know how to use the shower for more than just drinking water, you fiery mouth breather.”

 “Eh?” he snarled, butting foreheads with him. “Ya wanna say that again, droopy-eyes?”

 “What, couldn’t hear me over the sound of nothingness in your head, slant-eyes?” Gray retorted. They broke into their usual bout, which Erza ignored on account of beach excitement, and Lucy ignored as she was still amazed at their normal interactions. Granted, the events of the other day most likely didn’t register as odd in Natsu’s peculiar brain, but she couldn’t help thinking about them two…or twelve hours of the day. She felt a light blush coat her cheeks that she hid by ducking into her smoothie, avoiding Gray’s left boot as it went flying from their brawl.

 “Hey, Erza,” she asked as a thought hit her. She had to look away as the stars in her eyes were practically blinding. “Do you have an extra ticket for Loki?”

 All of a sudden the fight ended as Natsu took a particularly hard punch to the chest. He didn’t seem particularly bothered however, as his expression shifted from battle-crazed to plain pissed. He muttered something about getting an early start on packing before practically stomping off, leaving a trail of smoking wood in his wake. Gray stared after him more with concern than confusion as Lucy did.

 “Loki?” Erza said, having missed the whole affair. “Right, I’ve forgotten you two are a thing now.”

 “We’re not exactly a thing,” she mumbled, twirling the straw around her finger.

 “Well what would you call it then?” Gray said with more interest than he arguably should’ve. “A fling?”

 “I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t call it a fling. That makes it sound cheap.”

 “So you really have deep feelings for him?” he continued. Lucy flushed harder and directed her attention on her pale pink fingernails.

 “Why do you even care?”

 “And where are your clothes?” Erza interrupted, turning to face him. Gray looked down and swore loudly as he realized he’d lost his jacket, shirt, pants, and one sock, although he still had his other boot. He went to go search for them while Lucy basked in the reprieve his bad habit got her. “You should get home as well to start packing,” she suggested. “We’ll only be there for the day, so it won’t require much.”

 “Got it,” Lucy said, more to appease Erza and get her silence than anything else. She finished her lunch and tossed her trash away, and she was just ready to head home and pack when Mirajane ushered her over to the bar.

 “Give these to Natsu the next time you see him please?” she said with a saccharine smile, handing over a thick orange envelope. Lucy recognized it as one they sent magazines in, but she didn’t take Natsu for a Sorcerer’s Weekly type of guy. Maybe there was a Fire of the Month magazine she never heard of? It certainly was possible.

 “Alright, Mira.”

 “And have fun on your vacation!” she added with an extra teaspoon of sugar, making her smile border creepy territory. Lucy returned it nervously and gave her a quick nod before hurrying past. Maybe, if she walked fast enough, she could escape the Guild’s weirdness behind her. She was heading through the downtown area and towards Strawberry Street when she heard an odd noise in the alley towards her side. She had barely even turned when rough hands seized her around the wrist and mouth, choking off her surprised gasp, then she was thrown back into the grimy wall.

 “Would’ja lookit my luck,” the man leered, eyes roving her body hungrily. She knew she wasn’t dressed too conservatively in her tank top and short shorts, but whatever layers she currently wore were being stripped away in his squinted vision, soon to be in reality as well. “A sexy broad walkin’ by herself…” His breath stank of booze as he leaned in close to her, rubbing his nose up and down her neck. She gritted her teeth in disgust.

 “I’ll have you know I don’t deal with drunks, not even from my own Guild.” She grabbed the handle of her whip and prepared to swing before a sudden invisible force had her pinned against the wall, arm out. The whip and the envelope fell to the ground with a soft noise, followed by his pleased sniggers.

 “Didn’t know I’m a Mage too? Can’t ya tell?” he sneered, taking the whip from her hand and patting her down. She shivered at the feel of his hands on her as he unhooked her belt with her Keys and tossed it into the shadows. “Can’t have ya usin’ these either. Now…” Still bound, she was helpless as he grabbed her tank top and pulled it up to her neck, exposing her pink bra. “Pretty plain—well, doesn’t matter, it’s comin’ off in a second.” His rough fingers felt cold as they reached around the back, fumbling drunkenly with the hook. She was suddenly reminded of warmer, more familiar hands, and squeezed her eyes shut with her jaw straining.

 “Na…tsu,” she managed past the force of his magic.

 “Eh?” he muttered, looking up at her. “What’s that?” When she didn’t speak again he shrugged a shoulder and dragged his hands down her stomach, bringing another shiver, before hooking his fingers around her ample hips, raising his face to hers. She tried to turn away, but his magic was strong even with the alcohol in his system, and the panic built in her throat until she could barely breathe—

 “You bastard!”

 That was the only warning her would-be molester got before a literal fireball slammed into him, tackling him to the hard ground with fists flying before they even made impact. Lucy hurriedly pulled her shirt down and watched with wide eyes as Natsu relentlessly pounded him left and right, left and right, as his face swelled and burned beneath his blazing flames. The heat was unbearable even from her distance, and she had to wonder what it was like for the other guy. Suddenly her mind flashed back to Loki, the attack he committed on him, and she clenched her fists.

 “Natsu, stop it! He’s unconscious, just stop already!” He ignored her, or maybe didn’t hear her, and continued thrashing. Giving an irritated breath, she moved forward and clasped her hands around his waist, digging her thin sandals into the ground and pulling back. She didn’t quite have the physical build to move him, but maybe her presence brought him back, because his flames sputtered out as soon as she made contact and his body went limp, causing them both to flop on the ground from her effort.

 “Oh, gods,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms, “not again. At least this asshole deserved it…”

 A crowd started to form around the edge of the alley, which soon was followed by the police as expected. They asked Lucy a few questions, which she answered a bit shakily, then cuffed the man, although he had to be taken away to a hospital rather than jail. Natsu’s jaw was clenched with a muscle at the base jumping every so often, and she was afraid for a moment that he’d give chase, and grabbed his arm to steer him away from the commotion. “It’s over. It’s okay. Come on, Natsu,” she urged. He turned and squinted a little, scrutinizing her. The intensity of his gaze felt all too personal.

 “So you’re okay?” She shuddered once, involuntarily.

 “I’ve had worse things happen to me—both of us know it.”

 “Yeah, but—but he touched you! And he almost, he almost…” He growled and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, shaking his head out like a feral animal, before directing his sharp stare at her. “If that’d happened, Lucy…”

 “It didn’t,” was all she had to say, shifting her gaze to her feet.

 “If it had,” he said in the same tone. “That’s all I’m sayin’. You gotta be more careful. I don’t want to see you like that again.” It sounded like a statement, but it came out more like an order. Like something said in desperation. But when she looked up, he was focused on something that wasn’t her, expression aloof.

 “Says the guy that throws himself into danger at every turn,” she said dryly.

 “That’s different,” he muttered crossly. “When I get hurt and when you get hurt are two different things.”

 “What do you mean?” she asked, confused. He didn’t answer, just grunted something unintelligible as he rubbed the back of his neck. She sighed in defeat, letting her hands hit her thighs. “And anyway, we don’t have time for this. I got to get home to pack, and so do yo…” It was then that she saw the magazines scattered from the envelopes. She bent over to pick them up and caught an unwanted glimpse inside one that was splayed with pages open. “Natsu, what’s this?”

 “Uh, your magazines?” he asked, dumbfounded.

 “No, I was asked to give these to you. By Mira.”

 “Oh,” he said, sounding a little anxious. “Well, uh, those are…”

 “You know what? I don’t want to know.” She quickly shoved them in the envelope and pressed them into his chest.

 “I-I’m not a pervert!” he protested as she avoided his eyes.

 “I didn’t say you are.”

 “You’re thinking it! Look, I can explain—”

 “No, really, it’s alright,” she said, putting her hands up to ward him off. He looked like he was caught in a huge internal war as she hurried off, hands over her burning face. I guess Natsu is more sexually aware than I thought, she thought, amazed. Is that a good thing…or a bad thing?

[readbookywooks]

At Grushenka's

ALYOSHA went towards the cathedral square to the widow Morozov's house to see Grushenka, who had sent Fenya to him early in the morning with an urgent message begging him to come. Questioning Fenya, Alyosha learned that her mistress had been particularly distressed since the previous day. During the two months that had passed since Mitya's arrest, Alyosha had called frequently at the widow Morozov's house, both from his own inclination and to take messages for Mitya. Three days after Mitya's arrest, Grushenka was taken very ill and was ill for nearly five weeks. For one whole week she was unconscious. She was very much changed - thinner and a little sallow, though she had for the past fortnight been well enough to go out. But to Alyosha her face was even more attractive than before, and he liked to meet her eyes when he went in to her. A look of firmness and intelligent purpose had developed in her face. There were signs of a spiritual transformation in her, and a steadfast, fine and humble determination that nothing could shake could be discerned in her. There was a small vertical line between her brows which gave her charming face a look of concentrated thought, almost austere at the first glance. There was scarcely a trace of her former frivolity. It seemed strange to Alyosha, too, that in spite of the calamity that had overtaken the poor girl, betrothed to a man who had been arrested for a terrible crime, almost at the instant of their betrothal, in spite of her illness and the almost inevitable sentence hanging over Mitya, Grushenka had not yet lost her youthful cheerfulness. There was a soft light in the once proud eyes, though at times they gleamed with the old vindictive fire when she was visited by one disturbing thought stronger than ever in her heart. The object of that uneasiness was the same as ever - Katerina Ivanovna, of whom Grushenka had even raved when she lay in delirium. Alyosha knew that she was fearfully jealous of her. Yet Katerina Ivanovna had not once visited Mitya in his prison, though she might have done it whenever she liked. All this made a difficult problem for Alyosha, for he was the only person to whom Grushenka opened her heart and from whom she was continually asking advice. Sometimes he was unable to say anything. Full of anxiety he entered her lodging. She was at home. She had returned from seeing Mitya half an hour before, and from the rapid movement with which she leapt up from her chair to meet him he saw that she had been expecting him with great impatience. A pack of cards dealt for a game of "fools" lay on the table. A bed had been made up on the leather sofa on the other side and Maximov lay, half reclining, on it. He wore a dressing-gown and a cotton nightcap, and was evidently ill and weak, though he was smiling blissfully. When the homeless old man returned with Grushenka from Mokroe two months before, he had simply stayed on and was still staying with her. He arrived with her in rain and sleet, sat down on the sofa, drenched and scared, and gazed mutely at her with a timid, appealing smile. Grushenka, who was in terrible grief and in the first stage of fever, almost forgot his existence in all she had to do the first half hour after her arrival. Suddenly she chanced to look at him intently: he laughed a pitiful, helpless little laugh. She called Fenya and told her to give him something to eat. All that day he sat in the same place, almost without stirring. When it got dark and the shutters were closed, Fenya asked her mistress: "Is the gentleman going to stay the night, mistress?" "Yes; make him a bed on the sofa," answered Grushenka. Questioning him more in detail, Grushenka learned from him that he had literally nowhere to go, and that "Mr. Kalganov, my benefactor, told me straight that he wouldn't receive me again and gave me five roubles." "Well, God bless you, you'd better stay, then," Grushenka decided in her grief, smiling compassionately at him. Her smile wrung the old man's heart and his lips twitched with grateful tears. And so the destitute wanderer had stayed with her ever since. He did not leave the house even when she was ill. Fenya and her grandmother, the cook, did not turn him out, but went on serving him meals and making up his bed on the sofa. Grushenka had grown used to him, and coming back from seeing Mitya (whom she had begun to visit in prison before she was really well) she would sit down and begin talking to "Maximushka" about trifling matters, to keep her from thinking of her sorrow. The old man turned out to be a good story-teller on occasions, so that at last he became necessary to her. Grushenka saw scarcely anyone else beside Alyosha, who did not come every day and never stayed long. Her old merchant lay seriously ill at this time, "at his last gasp" as they said in the town, and he did, in fact, die a week after Mitya's trial. Three weeks before his death, feeling the end approaching, he made his sons, their wives and children, come upstairs to him at last and bade them not leave him again. From that moment he gave strict orders to his servants not to admit Grushenka and to tell her if she came, "The master wishes you long life and happiness and tells you to forget him." But Grushenka sent almost every day to inquire after him. "You've come at last!" she cried, flinging down the cards and joyfully greeting Alyosha, "and Maximushka's been scaring me that perhaps you wouldn't come. Ah, how I need you! Sit down to the table. What will you have coffee?" "Yes, please," said Alyosha, sitting down at the table. "I am very hungry." "That's right. Fenya, Fenya, coffee," cried Grushenka. "It's been made a long time ready for you. And bring some little pies, and mind they are hot. Do you know, we've had a storm over those pies to-day. I took them to the prison for him, and would you believe it, he threw them back to me: he would not eat them. He flung one of them on the floor and stamped on it. So I said to him: 'I shall leave them with the warder; if you don't eat them before evening, it will be that your venomous spite is enough for you!' With that I went away. We quarrelled again, would you believe it? Whenever I go we quarrel." Grushenka said all this in one breath in her agitation. Maximov, feeling nervous, at once smiled and looked on the floor. "What did you quarrel about this time?" asked Alyosha. "I didn't expect it in the least. Only fancy, he is jealous of the Pole. 'Why are you keeping him?' he said. 'So you've begun keeping him.' He is jealous, jealous of me all the time, jealous eating and sleeping! He even took into his head to be jealous of Kuzma last week." "But he knew about the Pole before?" "Yes, but there it is. He has known about him from the very beginning but to-day he suddenly got up and began scolding about him. I am ashamed to repeat what he said. Silly fellow! Rakitin went in as I came out. Perhaps Rakitin is egging him on. What do you think?" she added carelessly. "He loves you, that's what it is; he loves you so much. And now he is particularly worried." "I should think he might be, with the trial to-morrow. And I went to him to say something about to-morrow, for I dread to think what's going to happen then. You say that he is worried, but how worried I am! And he talks about the Pole! He's too silly! He is not jealous of Maximushka yet, anyway." "My wife was dreadfully jealous over me, too," Maximov put in his word. "Jealous of you?" Grushenka laughed in spite of herself. "Of whom could she have been jealous?" "Of the servant girls." "Hold your tongue, Maximushka, I am in no laughing mood now; I feel angry. Don't ogle the pies. I shan't give you any; they are not good for you, and I won't give you any vodka either. I have to look after him, too, just as though I kept an almshouse," she laughed. "I don't deserve your kindness. I am a worthless creature," said Maximov, with tears in his voice. "You would do better to spend your kindness on people of more use than me." "Ech, everyone is of use, Maximushka, and how can we tell who's of most use? If only that Pole didn't exist, Alyosha. He's taken it into his head to fall ill, too, to-day. I've been to see him also. And I shall send him some pies, too, on purpose. I hadn't sent him any, but Mitya accused me of it, so now I shall send some! Ah, here's Fenya with a letter! Yes, it's from the Poles - begging again! Pan Mussyalovitch had indeed sent an extremely long and characteristically eloquent letter in which he begged her to lend him three roubles. In the letter was enclosed a receipt for the sum, with a promise to repay it within three months, signed by Pan Vrublevsky as well. Grushenka had received many such letters, accompanied by such receipts, from her former lover during the fortnight of her convalescence. But she knew that the two Poles had been to ask after her health during her illness. The first letter Grushenka got from them was a long one, written on large notepaper and with a big family crest on the seal. It was so obscure and rhetorical that Grushenka put it down before she had read half, unable to make head or tail of it. She could not attend to letters then. The first letter was followed next day by another in which Pan Mussyalovitch begged her for a loan of two thousand roubles for a very short period. Grushenka left that letter, too, unanswered. A whole series of letters had followed - one every day - all as pompous and rhetorical, but the loan asked for, gradually diminishing, dropped to a hundred roubles, than to twenty-five, to ten, and finally Grushenka received a letter in which both the Poles begged her for only one rouble and included a receipt signed by both. Then Grushenka suddenly felt sorry for them, and at dusk she went round herself to their lodging. She found the two Poles in great poverty, almost destitution, without food or fuel, without cigarettes, in debt to their landlady. The two hundred roubles they had carried off from Mitya at Mokroe had soon disappeared. But Grushenka was surprised at their meeting her with arrogant dignity and self-assertion, with the greatest punctilio and pompous speeches. Grushenka simply laughed, and gave her former admirer ten roubles. Then, laughing, she told Mitya of it and he was not in the least jealous. But ever since, the Poles had attached themselves to Grushenka and bombarded her daily with requests for money and she had always sent them small sums. And now that day Mitya had taken it into his head to be fearfully jealous. "Like a fool, I went round to him just for a minute, on the way to see Mitya, for he is ill, too, my Pole," Grushenka began again with nervous haste. "I was laughing, telling Mitya about it. 'Fancy,' I said, 'my Pole had the happy thought to sing his old songs to me to the guitar. He thought I would be touched and marry him!' Mitya leapt up swearing.... So, there, I'll send them the pies! Fenya, is it that little girl they've sent? Here, give her three roubles and pack up a dozen pies in a paper and tell her to take them. And you, Alyosha, be sure to tell Mitya that I did send them the pies." "I wouldn't tell him for anything," said Alyosha, smiling. "Ech! You think he is unhappy about it. Why, he's jealous on purpose. He doesn't care," said Grushenka bitterly. "On purpose?" queried Alyosha. "I tell you you are silly, Alyosha. You know nothing about it, with all your cleverness. I am not offended that he is jealous of a girl like me. I would be offended if he were not jealous. I am like that. I am not offended at jealousy. I have a fierce heart, too. I can be jealous myself. Only what offends me is that he doesn't love me at all. I tell you he is jealous now on purpose. Am I blind? Don't I see? He began talking to me just now of that woman, of Katerina, saying she was this and that, how she had ordered a doctor from Moscow for him, to try and save him; how she had ordered the best counsel, the most learned one, too. So he loves her, if he'll praise her to my face, more shame to him! He's treated me badly himself, so he attacked me, to make out I am in fault first and to throw it all on me. 'You were with your Pole before me, so I can't be blamed for Katerina,' that's what it amounts to. He wants to throw the whole blame on me. He attacked me on purpose, on purpose, I tell you, but I'll-" Grushenka could not finish saying what she would do. She hid her eyes in her handkerchief and sobbed violently. "He doesn't love Katerina Ivanovna," said Alyosha firmly. "Well, whether he loves her or not, I'll soon find out for myself," said Grushenka, with a menacing note in her voice, taking the handkerchief from her eyes. Her face was distorted. Alyosha saw sorrowfully that from being mild and serene, it had become sullen and spiteful. "Enough of this foolishness," she said suddenly; "it's not for that I sent for you. Alyosha, darling, to-morrow - what will happen to-morrow? That's what worries me! And it's only me it worries! I look at everyone and no one is thinking of it. No one cares about it. Are you thinking about it even? To-morrow he'll be tried, you know. Tell me, how will he be tried? You know it's the valet, the valet killed him! Good heavens! Can they condemn him in place of the valet and will no one stand up for him? They haven't troubled the valet at all, have they?" "He's been severely cross-examined," observed Alyosha thoughtfully; "but everyone came to the conclusion it was not he. Now he is lying very ill. He has been ill ever since that attack. Really ill," added Alyosha. "Oh, dear! couldn't you go to that counsel yourself and tell him the whole thing by yourself? He's been brought from Petersburg for three thousand roubles, they say." "We gave these three thousand together - Ivan, Katerina Ivanovna and I - but she paid two thousand for the doctor from Moscow herself. The counsel Fetyukovitch would have charged more, but the case has become known all over Russia; it's talked of in all the papers and journals. Fetyukovitch agreed to come more for the glory of the thing, because the case has become so notorious. I saw him yesterday." "Well? Did you talk to him?" Grushenka put in eagerly. "He listened and said nothing. He told me that he had already formed his opinion. But he promised to give my words consideration." "Consideration! Ah, they are swindlers! They'll ruin him. And why did she send for the doctor?" "As an expert. They want to prove that Mitya's mad and committed the murder when he didn't know what he was doing," Alyosha smiled gently, "but Mitya won't agree to that." "Yes; but that would be the truth if he had killed him!" cried Grushenka. "He was mad then, perfectly mad, and that was my fault, wretch that I am! But, of course, he didn't do it, he didn't do it! And they are all against him, the whole town. Even Fenya's evidence went to prove he had done it. And the people at the shop, and that official, and at the tavern, too, before, people had heard him say so! They are all, all against him, all crying out against him." "Yes, there's a fearful accumulation of evidence," Alyosha observed grimly. "And Grigory - Grigory Vassilyevitch - sticks to his story that the door was open, persists that he saw it - there's no shaking him. I went and talked to him myself. He's rude about it, too." "Yes, that's perhaps the strongest evidence against him," said Alyosha. "And as for Mitya's being mad, he certainly seems like it now," Grushenka began with a peculiarly anxious and mysterious air. "Do you know, Alyosha, I've been wanting to talk to you about it for a long time. I go to him every day and simply wonder at him. Tell me, now, what do you suppose he's always talking about? He talks and talks and I can make nothing of it. I fancied he was talking of something intellectual that I couldn't understand in my foolishness. Only he suddenly began talking to me about a babe - that is, about some child. 'Why is the babe poor?' he said. 'It's for that babe I am going to Siberia now. I am not a murderer, but I must go to Siberia!' What that meant, what babe, I couldn't tell for the life of me. Only I cried when he said it, because he said it so nicely. He cried himself, and I cried, too. He suddenly kissed me and made the sign of the cross over me. What did it mean, Alyosha, tell me? What is this babe?" "It must be Rakitin, who's been going to see him lately," smiled Alyosha, "though... that's not Rakitin's doing. I didn't see Mitya yesterday. I'll see him to-day." "No, it's not Rakitin; it's his brother Ivan Fyodorovitch upsetting him. It's his going to see him, that's what it is," Grushenka began, and suddenly broke off. Alyosha gazed at her in amazement. "Ivan's going? Has he been to see him? Mitya told me himself that Ivan hasn't been once." "There... there! What a girl I am! Blurting things out!" exclaimed Grushenka, confused and suddenly blushing. "Stay, Alyosha, hush! Since I've said so much I'll tell the whole truth - he's been to see him twice, the first directly he arrived. He galloped here from Moscow at once, of course, before I was taken ill; and the second time was a week ago. He told Mitya not to tell you about it, under any circumstances; and not to tell anyone, in fact. He came secretly." Alyosha sat plunged in thought, considering something. The news evidently impressed him. "Ivan doesn't talk to me of Mitya's case," he said slowly. "He's said very little to me these last two months. And whenever I go to see him, he seems vexed at my coming, so I've not been to him for the last three weeks. H'm!... if he was there a week ago... there certainly has been a change in Mitya this week." "There has been a change," Grushenka assented quickly. "They have a secret, they have a secret! Mitya told me himself there was a secret, and such a secret that Mitya can't rest. Before then, he was cheerful - and, indeed, he is cheerful now - but when he shakes his head like that, you know, and strides about the room and keeps pulling at the hair on his right temple with his right hand, I know there is something on his mind worrying him.... I know! He was cheerful before, though, indeed, he is cheerful to-day." "But you said he was worried." "Yes, he is worried and yet cheerful. He keeps on being irritable for a minute and then cheerful and then irritable again. And you know, Alyosha, I am constantly wondering at him - with this awful thing hanging over him, he sometimes laughs at such trifles as though he were a baby himself." "And did he really tell you not to tell me about Ivan? Did he say, 'Don't tell him'?" "Yes, he told me, 'Don't tell him.' It's you that Mitya's most afraid of. Because it's a secret: he said himself it was a secret. Alyosha, darling, go to him and find out what their secret is and come and tell me," Grushenka besought him with sudden eagerness. "Set my mind at rest that I may know the worst that's in store for me. That's why I sent for you." "You think it's something to do with you? If it were, he wouldn't have told you there was a secret." "I don't know. Perhaps he wants to tell me, but doesn't dare to. He warns me. There is a secret, he tells me, but he won't tell me what it is." "What do you think yourself?" "What do I think? It's the end for me, that's what I think. They all three have been plotting my end, for Katerina's in it. It's all Katerina, it all comes from her. She is this and that, and that means that I am not. He tells me that beforehand - warns me. He is planning to throw me over, that's the whole secret. They've planned it together, the three of them - Mitya, Katerina, and Ivan Fyodorovitch. Alyosha, I've been wanting to ask you a long time. A week ago he suddenly told me that Ivan was in love with Katerina, because he often goes to see her. Did he tell me the truth or not? Tell me, on your conscience, tell me the worst." "I won't tell you a lie. Ivan is not in love with Katerina Ivanovna, I think." "Oh, that's what I thought! He is lying to me, shameless deceiver, that's what it is! And he was jealous of me just now, so as to put the blame on me afterwards. He is stupid, he can't disguise what he is doing; he is so open, you know.... But I'll give it to him, I'll give it to him! 'You believe I did it,' he said. He said that to me, to me. He reproached me with that! God forgive him! You wait, I'll make it hot for Katerina at the trial! I'll just say a word then... I'll tell everything then!" And again she cried bitterly. "This I can tell you for certain, Grushenka," Alyosha said, getting up. "First, that he loves you, loves you more than anyone in the world, and you only, believe me. I know. I do know. The second thing is that I don't want to worm his secret out of him, but if he'll tell me of himself to-day, I shall tell him straight out that I have promised to tell you. Then I'll come to you to-day and tell you. Only... I fancy... Katerina Ivanovna has nothing to do with it, and that the secret is about something else. That's certain. It isn't likely it's about Katerina Ivanovna, it seems to me. Good-bye for now." Alyosha shook hands with her. Grushenka was still crying. He saw that she put little faith in his consolation, but she was better for having had her sorrow out, for having spoken of it. He was sorry to leave her in such a state of mind, but he was in haste. He had a great many things to do still.