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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

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Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now.

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity.

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance.

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention.

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure.

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still.

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them.

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.”

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle.

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

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

OK. This was way too fun to write.

Let me know what you think!!!

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

#all men have limits #AMHL bonus content #make a scene extension #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing x reader #nightwing reader insert #jason todd and platonic!reader #jason todd x platonic!reader #batfam #batboys #bruce wayne x platonic!reader #bruce wayne and reader

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lotusthekat · 3 years ago

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Every little thing he does is magic

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: G

Relationships: Luz Noceda/Hunter

Characters: Luz Noceda, Hunter (Golden Guard)

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Luz discovers more about the boy behind the Golden Guard. More specifically, his caring side.

*Not compliant with Eclipse Lake!

Word count: 1.394

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: I’m kind of embarrassed to admit that I’ve been thinking about this ship in the past few days, so now I wrote a very self-indulgent fic for them. My very first TOH fic for that matter. I hope this isn’t too OOC, haha.

TRIGGER WARNING - implied child abuse

HATE COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED AND BLOCKED.

There is… a light.

No. More than one.

The smell of fire and the magic woods welcome her senses, her brown eyes finding a small campfire and several light spells, small balls floating around, protecting her from the darkness of the mysterious forest.

Luz’s head hurts, though.

She grunts, and once she tries to try and stand…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The voice, at first, alarms her and she’s ready to take Eda’s staff to defend herself. Except it’s not by her side, and when she realizes, Luz is not actually in danger.

A few feet away from her is the Golden Guard – Hunter, she remembers –, sitting by the campfire with a frowning but saddened gaze. His red eyes are dark in contrast to all the light surrounding them, and besides his absent golden mask, he’s not wearing his trademark white cloak, either.

… in fact, said cloak has been covering Luz all this time.

Before the girl could question it, the little cardinal lands in front of her, chirping in happiness.

“Hey, little guy,” Luz awes in spite of her pain, allowing her to sit – with a few struggles. She notices her arm is bandaged by some ripped white cloth, apparently from the cloak.

Unlike the little Rascal, Hunter doesn’t even look at her. He looks like he’s in too deep in the fire, seeing things no one else can.

“Wh… What happened?” Luz asks, unsure.

Hunter refuses to take his eyes off the flames; he seems to hug his knees tighter.

“Kikimora found us in the woods when we tried to escape,” he replies. “Let’s just say, she was less than happy to see us.”

Bits and pieces come back to Luz, having her recall they were on a mission together; as much as she still didn’t trust him, she couldn’t quite refuse when Hunter had gone all the way to the Owl House to ask for her help, in the middle of the night, to fight off the Emperor’s Coven from eradicating the few wild magic there still is.

“Did- Did we at least take some of the wood with us?” Luz wonders, searching for her bag.

Hunter looks down. “No.”

Luz stares at him sadly.

“Sorry,” she mutters.

“… it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean? T-They were going to destroy it-!”

“Kikimora almost killed you!”

The tone of anger and frustration in his voice shuts Luz for good. Maybe she’s still a little doozy, but she swears she might even see Hunter��s eyes glowing thanks to the light spells.

He takes a deep breath, however, and looks far away into the dark forest.

“We barely got out of there alive,” Hunter rephrases, his voice noticeably a lot quieter, as if afraid the world might hear. “And then, when she had me cornered, you”— his hands clutch his sleeves —“you jumped in to save me.”

Luz remembers.

She replays the entire scene in her head, and she sees herself stepping in. Despite all the conflicting thoughts, Luz did not hesitate; she yelled and took the blow, and that was the last thing she saw before blacking out.

The teenage girl can’t help but hear the conflict in his words. Hunter sounds guilty and confused. Then she realizes. The white cloak still protecting her, her bandaged arm, the light spells illuminating her view…

No one has ever gone out of their way to protect him.

Knowing Lilith, Luz is aware the Emperor’s Coven is hell. Imagine then, how it must be for a teenage boy who could’ve been a normal student at Hexside, being forced to work for Belos. Luz might only see it through Hunter’s scars and his short-tempered and distant attitude, but… truly, the Emperor is not a merciful man.

It’s all he must’ve learned.

And yet he’s so desperate to get out, that he told Luz about his life, he reached out to her… and now, he’s taking care of her. This isn’t a joke, nor a plan.

Hunter must be very confused.

Luz has… so many thoughts. Strange ones. Quite usual for a human living in the Boiling Isles, really.

The little Rascal flies over to Hunter’s shoulder for comfort. The boy might flinch at first, but he relaxes his body. Luz smiles in support, while the other hides half of his face in his arms.

“Hey,” she says, scooting a little closer to him, “thanks for looking after me.”

Hunter finally snaps his head at her, and his face… becomes as red as the cardinal chirping.

“I-I—” He coughs a little too violently, “W-Well, what else could I’ve done? I couldn’t just leave you there, after I asked for your help! I mean- we still have our truce, remember?”

“Well yeah, but…” Luz gestures at the light spells that join them. “I think there’s some light inside you, after all.”

After a few seconds, Hunter groans, “That was terrible.”

Luz giggles along with the Rascal. The boy sighs it out.

“In any case, we’ll have to stay here for the night. You’re not in any condition to fly all the way back to the Owl House,” Hunter observes her, with a speck of worry. He blushes again and avoids her eyes. “Early morning, we’ll get out of here.”

Luz hums. “Roger!”

“… my name is Hunter.”

“Nevermind.”

He shrugs. “I made sure to leave traps near us. I had to use some papers of yours, though.”

“Wow, someone’s becoming a pro already?” She smirks.

“I-It’s not that hard,” Hunter scoffs, “but yeah… I’ve been practicing when I can.”

“Too bad you can’t come to my glyph lessons. I’ve been teaching Eda.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The Owl Lady?”

“Mm-hmm,” Luz grins. “You could learn a lot more from me.”

Surprisingly, Hunter smiles back. “I already do.”

The girl admits, he looks good smiling. Wait.

Noticing that, he returns to his serious persona.

“You should rest now,” Hunter advises, “the healing potion I gave you might take a while to have effect.”

“Okay,” she yawns as soon as he says it. How convenient.

As soon as she lies down, Luz watches Hunter not following his advice at all.

“Well, aren’t you gonna rest too?”

“I don’t need sleep.”

Luz frowns. “Your eyebags beg to differ.”

Hunter hisses silently, like a grumpy cat.

“Hey, we’ve had a long day, some hours of sleep won’t hurt you,” she insists.

“I can’t let my guard down again,” Hunter says firmly. He faces away from her. “I can’t ever lose focus.”

She would’ve teased him more, but it wouldn’t feel right.

“… I’ll be okay,” Luz reassures him. “You made sure we’re safe; they’ll think twice before getting to us again.”

The sixteen-year-old boy holds a very long stare, mentally trying to trust her words. Luz smiles at him with support.

“Right,” he sighs. “You win.”

Luz is, admittedly, kind of surprised he’s complying, but he must be really tired. When does he even get to rest?

Hunter lies down beside her, though he keeps his distance. It allows the Rascal to sit between them, and Luz pets the adorable little bird. As for Hunter, he turns around and she only finds his back.

“Hey, um, do you want your cloak back?” Luz asks.

“You need it more than I do. It’s cold out here.”

“You sure? Aren’t you cold, too?”

“Not really. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Luz hugs the white cape close, and quickly smirks, “I might not give it back though. I’m a known heat stealer.”

Even when she doesn’t see his face, the girl can tell he’s rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. Go to sleep.”

She snorts.

Although the Boiling Isles are not generally peaceful, there’s… quite a beauty to it. Even when she’s being hunted by the evil Emperor himself, this might be one of the few moments of peace Luz’s had since arriving here.

Ironically, with the guy she once hated. She’s not too sure how to feel about him yet… but he’s really just a kid, forced into a destiny that is not his own. He’s really trying to come out of his shell, and it’s pretty sweet.

Luz might lean a little to check if he’s asleep – as it turns out, he’s already sleeping like a rock. Who knows how much he needed it.

She smiles and soon joins him, guarded by his newfound magic.

#the owl house #luz noceda #toh hunter #lunter #abuse mention tw #fanfiction #toh spoilers

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

Crossing Worlds

This all started because of this

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne, age 18, son of Bruce Wayne the Batman. Was surprisingly walking aimlessly through the manor. He knew his father was in his study, Tim was in the cave, Jason, Dick, and Alfred were somewhere but that didn't matter to him. It was a rare moment where the manor was quiet, but his mind was anything but.

He found himself in one of the music rooms.

He went over to a blue and silver Stratocaster, what looked like two small earring hoops were pushed through the strap, the blue metal with each having three onyx bats shown against the matte strap. He plugged it in and begin to strum, after a while a melody was in his mind and he followed the song in his head. He was vaguely aware of his family coming in during the song, but he continued, his mind solely focused on the music.

"Wow I didn't know you could play Baby Bird" Grayson complemented after he had finished.

"Tt. I am proficient at many instruments" he responded calmly.

"Okay Demon Spawn is good at guitar" Todd started "Do you know any Jagged Stone songs?"

"Who?" he asked confused, this was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"What!!!" all three of his brothers shouted simultaneously.

It was Todd that spoke up again "We are totally listening to his albums now" Todd pushed and guided Damian to the game room and placed a CD into the player, tossing the album case to him. After a three full albums Damian spoke again "I've never heard any of those but they were good I suppose" again that was the wrong thing to say.

As all three yelled "What" again.

"How hard did Croc hit you yesterday?" Drake asked.

What I had a run in with Ivy. And that was just to help her find Harley.

He must have shown his confusion because his brothers were about to descend on him but then all of them heard a crash. That sent everyone into alert. Within a moment Damian took point his katana in his hands, Drake and Grayson behind him, and Todd brought up the rear a glock in each hand.

They heard a high pitched chirping from the music room, so it was as good a place to start as any. They opened the door to see a...is that a bat. The bat must have noticed them because they were now facing them just floating there.

"Wait why are you floating not flapping your wings?" Damian didn't realize he spoke aloud but he didn't expect it to answer back.

"I don't need to" it answered gruffly.

"It can talk. Why can it talk?" Grayson shrieked behind him.

"First off it has a name and it's Damon" the little bat, Damon, crossed it’s wings "and second I am a Kwami."

"And what is a Kwami?" Drake asked.

"Simply put Kwami are pocket sized gods bound to miraculous or jewelry." Damon explained "I am the Kwami of space, sorry for pulling you with me pup." By now the little god was floating in front of Damian.

That was when he realized he was talking to him. "What do you mean?" he asked and held out his hand and the Kwami hung upside down from his fingers.

"Essentially my miraculous was lost in space and ended up in your world. You unconsciously activated my miraculous which allowed me to come home but you were pulled into it with me." he explained.

"So this isn't Demon Spawn" Todd spoke the question on everyone’s mind.

"No. He is saying this Damian is from an alternate universe" Drake explained "its the multiverse theory."

"Exactly but unless you want to go back there are no consequences"

"There is always an effect with magic though." Grayson added intelligently.

"That is true for magic wielded by mortals" he answered "but I am not. My powers in this form are unlimited and volatile but not without balance. You pup exist in both so it has no consequence."

"Would this affect my memories?" Damian asked the god.

"Yes and no. Major events of an individuals past and character traits tend to stay the same. Smaller and more trivial events may be different" Damon explains. By this time Pennyworth and Father have been caught up and were listening. "More likely there are people added into this world who did not exist in yours."

"That would explain why you never heard of Jagged when we are always blasting his songs" Todd grumbled.

That was when an alarm sounded from Drake's phone.

"Speaking of which Jagged's concert is in two days and our flight to Paris is scheduled to leave in three hours." Drake informs us all.

"Shit" Todd yells as he runs out at the room.

"I'll bring the car around." Pennyworth spoke to no one in particular. Drake and Grayson followed him out. Leaving Damian, Damon, and Bruce in the room.

"Father" Damian didn't get to say any more before he was stopped.

"Yes" he answered.

"What? I'm confused. Father"

"Damon you may stay with Damian" he answered "Alfred explained a bit more about the miraculous and spoke fondly of one Duusu."

"So he was a past bird" Damon hummed "that would explain the trace magic on him." His father left and Damian was about to leave when Damon floated in his face "You might want to put on the earrings pup."

"Alright. Wait earrings does that mean" he couldn't help the shock in his voice.

"You need to get your ears pierced" Damon smirked, "seems so."

How can something so cute look so smug at his displeasure.

He could either do it in Paris or here in Gotham. You know what, why prolong the anticipation. So he went to find Todd. Granted he would never have willingly sought him out. But for this he trusted his brother's judgement. Surprisingly Todd didn't make a big deal of it. A quick shout to Pennyworth and they were out of the manor. Within 15 minutes they were in front of a Tattoo Parlor.

"Tt. I said I wanted a piercing, Todd, not a tattoo."

"I remember Demon spawn. You got the earrings."

Damian nodded and they went in. The whole process took about 20 minutes and was relatively painless. He got a double cartilage piercing on his right ear. He was given instructions for care and cleaning and a warning it would be sore for a while.

All in all, Todd isn't always an asshole and gave him some suggestions. Mainly that since he had wanted the cartilage pierced to only do one ear so he could sleep on the other until it is healed.

Back at the manor his bags were already packed. Whether it was Pennyworth or him from this world he didn't know but was grateful. Damon had taken to sleeping and hiding in his jacket pocket.

The airport and flight was uneventful. But it wasn't until they exited the airport when they noticed something was wrong. Well that wasn't hard when there was a giant baby on a rampage. Two figures one in red and one in black made quick work of the giant. A swarm of pink fixed the damage and were gone. Damian looked towards his father and brothers whose expressions mimicked his own shock.

He felt his phone vibrate, signaling a message. He was going to ignore it when he felt Damon poke him.

The message read :

Something is wrong, there are miraculous active.

Once in the hotel Drake went through the records from Paris while father went through the JL system. Damon had taken his phone and seemed to be writing, when he was done he flew over dropped his phone and shot him a smirk but his eyes were calculated.

"Damon" he called but the Kwami gone with only a salute and phased out of the room, so he opened the phone

If I'm not back in an hour get in uniform with the Big Bat and go to the inner floor of the Eiffel tower. I'm going to find the guardian to get a meeting with the heroes. To transform say or mumble 'Damon, Night Terror, to de-transform say 'Day Break' . Your weapons include dual swords and a grappling hook. Your powers allow you to open small pocket dimensions but in battle you can create shadows of yourself and whoever you want. Shadows are corporeal for about five minutes or until they receive enough damage to use it say, 'Shadow Runner'

Delete this.

Damian sighed, erased what was on the unsaved document and closed the application. He went back into the main room to see his Father in a meeting with Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, and Green Lanterns (Bravo and Foxtrot).

"We need to find out how we can help" Bravo, Hal Jordon, commented.

"All we know is that the miraculous are in play" Batman responded.

"Do we know which ones" Wonder Woman commented.

"Right now no."

"So asking for those of us who don't know, what is a miraculous?" Foxtrot, Jessica Cruz, asked.

"Essentially jewelry, like the lantern rings, but are powered by pocket sized gods"

"Heroes are called Ladybug and Chat Noir" Drake supplied from the other side of the room.

"The Ladybug and Black Cat then. Do we know who they are fighting?" Wonder Woman asked.

At that point in the conversation Damian noticed there was 30 minutes until the meet up so he went to get dressed in his Robin uniform.

"Honestly Bats if you don't like outside heroes in your city. How would they react to outside heroes who have never heard of them?" the Flash made a valid point.

Batman hummed and was going to speak, but Damian beat him.

"Then it is a good thing that Father and I are meeting the heroes in 15 minutes.” By now Damian was standing behind his father in full view of the league members. Everyone stared at him, he was pretty sure Superman was going to say something about his piercing. As the boy scout was pointing to Damian's right where two hammered platinum earrings were.

"Then we will give a report later then." his father signed off and turned to him expectantly.

"Damon" was his response.

'sigh' "Alright lets go."

The two of them slipped out of the hotel and made it to the Eiffel Tower unnoticed. They waited a few minutes until they heard what sounded like a grapple wire and a thump they couldn't place. Two teens no older than him were in front of them. The thump must have come from the baton the blonde boy dressed as a cat in leather was holding. The girl was in a red spotted spandex suit with hair so dark it shone blue.

"Pup" he heard Damon shout before flying over and hanging upside down from his bracer.

"Tt. At least you left a note before zipping off." Robin scolded the kwami.

"Yes and it worked out."

"You didn't know where to start did you?"

"No, but..."

"It worked"

"Exactly"

That was when they noticed the two Parisians laughing and giggling respectively. A small smile, not smirk Damian can tell the difference, played an Batman's lips.

"So Monsieur Robin, you are the pup this one spoke of" Ladybug finally pushed past the giggles.

"Tt. you didn't introduce your self" he scolded yet again.

"Nope" Damon smirked popping the 'P' "that's why I have you pup." he flew up and landed on his head laying down.

"Tt. This" Robin pointed to the crown of his head "is Damon, Kwami of space" said Kwami lifted a paw and dropped it again.

"Why come and offer help now when you hadn't responded to our pleas before." Chat Noir seemed to bite out.

"Damon noticed the miraculous were active so we dug into it." Robin shrugged.

"Because a kwami tells you you believe it, when we have been asking the Justice league for help these past five years." Ladybug tried to remain calm, but there was a hard edge to her voice.

"The aren't any records for Paris from the past five years" Batman stated.

"What!" both Parisians yelled.

A chuckle escaped Damon, as he floated in front of the Parisians. "Its because of you little bug."

"What! I didn't do anything" she shook her head.

"Not consciously. You subconsciously erased those videos to avoid an akuma that was already empowered before turning. The same goes for the news outlets. You are unconsciously restricting the news of akuma to prevent already super powered threats." Damon explained.

"Oh" was spoken so softly Damian saw more than heard her say it.

"Robin why don't you transform and LB can catch Batman up on the situation while we patrol." Chat Noir attempted ease the group of the revelation Damon provided.

He looked to his father who gave him a nod. In a flash of indigo blue he transformed. A charcoal loose shirt, pants, and gloves. Black reinforced boots, vest, and greaves. The vest had a dark blue center, like the boots across the top of the foot. The greaves had a shocking blue cuff matching the blade edges of his twin swords, and the bats on both his boots and belt. A navy blue cape hung at his shoulders ending at his knees was held in place by two shoulder plates. A black mask covered the bottom half of his face, his hair turned midnight blue, and his eyes a haunting icy blue.

"What should we call you?" Ladybug asked him.

"Bat?" he answered slightly unsure.

"Maybe add a descriptor." his father stated a smirk on his face.

"Blue, no Nelly." He decided. "My name is Nelly Bat." His father nodded and Ladybug gave a wave as Chat Noir dragged him away to patrol.

This was shaping up to be an interesting world he fell into.

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #miraculous x dc #mlb x dc #bat!miraculous #crossing worlds au

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seacottons · 4 years ago

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uni!au with ateez — [ part one ]

—[ san - performing arts ]

ironically, you met when you helped him after a taller male shoved him down whilst in a heated argument.

he burst out laughing when you asked if he was okay.

“don’t worry, we’re just practicing our lines!”

you quickly glanced up at the building and grimaced once taking sight of the gleaming silver ‘performing arts building’ plaque.

of course.

to say you were embarrassed was only scratching the surface.

you had no regrets, because the incident was the catalyst that formed your friendship and eventual relationship.

will never let you live that moment down.

“remember when you tried to save me from mingi?”

“i thought we promised not to bring that up again-”

“why can’t i? i was saved by an angel that day?”

san invites you to both his dance and theatre shows.

will appear to be very professional on stage, but you catch his eyes frantically darting to the crowd to try and spot you.

and once he does, he will repeatedly smile and wink in your direction.

you’re always early, so you manage to snag a seat in either front two rows.

likes when you bring him bouquets as a congratulation gift after his performances.

gets very loud backstage just to let everyone know you bought him a gift.

a huge show-off.

is very good at facial expressions.

you fall for every time he pretends he’s crying or hurt when you don’t give him attention.

he will imitate different characters and repeat after actors while you two watch movies together.

“it sounded sexier when i said it, right (y/n)?”

is a very clingy cuddle bug.

and a leech.

will always have his arms around you while walking at campus.

loves to give you back hugs.

is the type to wait outside for you until you finish class.

and takes you to the cafeteria afterwards for lunch.

embarrasses you in said cafeteria by spinning the lunch tray while waiting in line.

also likes to spin your phone just to freak you out.

also the type to excitedly text you about the donuts and coffee they’re giving away at the library’s breezeway.

likes to refer to you as ‘angel’.

will beg you join the different clubs he’s in.

and then brag about you to the others once you do.

will hype your choice of attire even if he’s already seen you earlier that day.

the type to also sneak you a latte in the middle of your class.

also the type to sneak in with you during your auditorium classes.

you regret it sometimes because he leaves no room for you to pay attention to your professor.

often times, so much so that you have to lightly pinch his side in protest.

“do you want me to fail this class?”

he likes to participate in the many events held at campus.

everyone knows him.

challenges you to dance offs in the middle of campus.

you refuse and push forward a startled mingi instead.

“mingi wants to have a turn this time!”

also likes to lay in your arms whilst you play with his hair.

“were you a cat in your previous life?”

he will then proceed to meow in your ear.

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

—[ hongjoong - fashion design ]

dating him would consist of always admiring his new projects.

supplying him with unhealthy amounts of coffee.

trying out new pieces he made.

offering to carry his overly large portfolio binder sometimes.

sitting down and listening to him rant about how his roomates fail to wash clothes properly.

he has a guide taped to the washing machine with the different symbols of clothing labels.

“no, san, you can’t use shampoo as detergent.”

“but seonghwa finished all the detergent!”

using seonghwa’s lint rollers to remove all the fabric fibers stuck on hongjoong’s clothes.

you scold him while cleaning the bleeding scratches on his fingers from his sewing needles and pins.

“don’t worry, it’s nothing i can’t handle.”

“but i don’t like seeing you get hurt, you bum.”

you bought him strawberry bandaids because he thought they were cute.

sometimes, when he has time, he’ll custom make clothes just for you.

he insists on having multiple matching outfits.

will ask you to model his work for his social media page.

thinks you look best in skirts.

you’ll be the source of comfort during presentation week.

he’ll be a wreck whilst making a new collection.

but you’re always there to pick him back up.

most of the time, you’re the source of his inspiration as well.

you insist he shouldn’t sit for hours writing essays or sketching numerous ideas for future work.

but he’s stubborn as a mule.

nights with him include binge watching fashion shows or cute cartoons.

or painting your nails.

you both enjoy coffee dates when you have time.

he tells you he wants to open a fashion line one day.

you’re trying to stand still as he plucks numerous pins into the dress you’re trying on.

“what do you think i should call it?”

“hj couture? does that sound too basic?”

he pauses momentarily before spooling the leftover red thread.

“(y/n). i’ll call the line (y/n).”

—[ wooyoung - culinary arts ]

invites you to his dorm and cooks for you.

his apartment always smells of warm spices and comforting meals.

pretends his roommates’ teasing doesn’t affect him, but the tips of ears always glow red.

will always bring over leftovers he made in class.

“i just thought you wanted to try this mille feuille.”

“which one is better? the salted rosemary loaf or the oregano and olive oil one?”

loves to bake and cook with you.

will make your birthday cake from scratch and will go all out decorating it.

has an annoying habit of taking pictures of you mid-bite.

“delete that right now.”

“but babe, you look so cute.”

“jung wooyoung!”

will wrestle with you as you attempt to take his phone away.

“okay, look! i swear i’ll delete it!”

he saves it in a hidden folder.

calls you his ‘cupcake’ or ‘sugarplum’.

teases you nonstop when you fail at something in the kitchen.

“babe! no! gentle folds! you pulverized those poor blueberries!”

“but the instructions say to mix!”

“the dough isn’t supposed to be blue!”

he’ll whine nonstop about how much he hates baking bread in class.

“do you know how abnoxiously long the fermentation process is!? i’m losing my mind.”

will wave and yell your name to catch your attention if he spots you nearby at campus.

you hear him every time.

he’s just that loud.

drags you to new restaurants just so you can rate them with him.

also drags you to go cutlery shopping.

accidentally dropped a plate in the store.

and when the employee came sauntering in the aisle suspiciously-

“(y/n) did it.”

once gave you food poisoning by accident.

you never wanted to eat scallops again.

you don’t mind his hands smelling like garlic or ginger most of the time.

or stained with spices.

“turmeric is a bitch.”

“woo, who wears white while cooking with turmeric anyway?”

will show off and brag about his knife skills.

demands to race with you to see who can chop the vegetables the quickest.

“you’re going down, (y/n).”

“uh- i don’t think i ever stood a chance to begin with.”

he lets you win sometimes though.

will beg you to visit him at his part time job at the cute cafe not too far by.

you always try to when you have the time.

and when he finds out you went to the rival cafe across the street one day..

“on a scale of 10 to 10, how bad is kang yeosang’s cooking?”

“what?”

“answer the question, (y/n).”

“woo, it’s 3 a.m.”

the next day, you explained that you were merely invited by your classmates to that particular cafe because one of them was a former employee there.

he childishly ignored you with crossed arms and a subtle pout.

“your jajangmyeon is much better. they didn’t even like the food there!”

he finally perks up with a large smile.

“wait, really?”

you think he looks endearing with his apron and chef’s hat.

will post cheesy captioned pictures of you after serving you delicately decorated plates of food.

‘two delicious meals for tonight, hehe.’

“gross. did you really have to say that?”

—[ jongho - kinesiology ]

you met him at the university gym and instantly clicked.

found yourself months later agreeing to go out with him.

a giant goofball.

sometimes makes faces at you while you exercise across the gym.

makes sure you watch him when he deadlifts.

loves when you hype him up.

opens all the jars for you.

and cuts all the fruit for you.

“why use a knife when you have my hands, love?”

you nearly choked on your saliva when he punched open the watermelon.

“can we ever just have a perfectly sliced watermelon!?”

“no- unless i break my arm one day.”

insists you jog with him around campus early in the morning.

likes to practice wrapping elastic tape on you.

you own half of his hoodies.

takes you to watch basketball matches.

then challenges you to a match when you go on dates to the park.

will persistently tease you about your poor aim.

and will absolutely not let you have the ball for more than a few seconds.

“stop cheating!”

“i’m not cheating! you just suck!”

joined you in some of your elective classes.

will also wear sleeveless shirts because he knows how flustered you get while his sculpted muscles are on display.

“what did professor kim just say?”

“what?” you tore your gaze from his biceps to glance at his face.

“are you staring at my arms again?” he snickers.

“no,” you say too quickly, face heating quite considerably.

despite his teasing, he’ll always baby you and take care of your needs.

has the cutest gummy smile.

you like to call him your gummy bear.

he hated the name at first, but grew to accept it over time.

likes to randomly pick you up.

sometimes will throw you over his shoulder.

has a habit of patting your thighs.

sometimes asks you to sit on his back while he does push-ups.

your eye bulged at the sight of a mop of ruby hair.

“don’t say anything.”

“you like apples so much you dyed your hair red?”

“i lost a bet.”

“you look cute though.”

you tugged at his tresses, smiling as you admired the shade against his tanned skin.

“baby?” you brushed his bangs away to display his forehead.

“hm?”

“you’re the apple of my eye.”

“i’m-,” he sucked on his teeth and pursed his lips, face scrunching in a mock grimace, “i’m going to throw up.”

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kominum · 4 years ago

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rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write.

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

#corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #sailor moon!au #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband angst #corpse angst

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hatsukeii · 4 years ago

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【Ｙｏｕｒ　ｎｅｗ　ｂｏｙｆｒｉｅｎｄ－　Ｄａｙ　１】

Word count: 6.2k+

【Ｄｅｃｅｍｂｅｒ　２５，　２０２０】

【２：３９　ａｍ】 Nearing the end of the seemingly indestructible health bar of this stupid resurgent cryo regisvene, Changbin lets out an audible growl, tapping furiously, almost murderously at his phone screen. “Cmonnnn you persistent piece of shit, just bite the dust already like the normal one...” His voice trails off as every drip of focus is directed back on his game.

“Which one do you think it is this time Seungmin?” Jisung taunts from the kitchen of the shared apartment, watching the coffee drip into his cup from the ancient coffee machine at a snail’s pace (He had been insisting on having Changbin get a new one for the past three, four months but the latter had been persistent to keep it instead of “wasting money on a new one”). Seungmin yells from inside his room, the sound of keyboard clicking along with the occasional growling and mumbling exposing what he was doing- League of Legends. “You think I would know? I don’t even know the game he’s playing.” “He’s been at it for the past three days Seungmin, it’s obviously the same ice thing he won’t shut up about.” Minho deadpans, tenderly lowering the three cats in his arms onto the couch. “Now my babies, don’t touch the madman next to you, or I’m going to have to do the dishes tonight, kay? He’s our main dishwasher, let’s not try anything funny.” The three cats collectively look up at their owner as he cooes softly at the felines. With the last of his party completely obliterated, Changbin throws his phone across the couch, startling the cats as they jump off hastily, earning a piercing glare from Minho. “We’ll talk about this later, Seo Changbin.” “My god, I give up, I’ll just get Chan hyung to do it for me tomorrow.” What even went through Mihoyo headquarters when they created this boss? Did the development department just decide to throw everything into one giant boss fight?

As he wallows in defeat, his ringtone blares where it sadly lies from being thrown across the couch, the annoying “We just got a letter!” song from Blue’s Clues (He had a feeling that the annoying children’s song would aid in motivating him to actually pick the phone up instead of ignoring people then texting them out of sluggishness) playing on loop the longer he chooses not to answer. “Will you just shut up?” Aggressively snatching his phone, he takes a quick glance at the caller, before picking up. “(Y/n), what do you wan-”

A few audible sniffles can be heard from the other side of the line.

“Changbinnie, he cheated on me.”

Changbin deadpans, not sure he’s hearing things right.

“Hello? Binnie?”

The words hitting him like a truck, he bolts up from where he once sat, hand gripping the phone so hard veins were popping.

“That motherfucker did what?”

His voice rings clear throughout the unit, both Jisung and Minho flinching at the sudden burst of noise. “Jesus Christ keep it down Changbin, the whole apartment complex can hear your annoying voice.” Minho complains, picking up one of his dear cats and stroking its ears. “Soonie ah, that idiot’s yell didn’t hurt your ears did it? Aigoo my baby, it’s okay, it was just stupid horse-faced Changbin, it’s okay my baby boo...” Jisung rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his pitch black coffee. Wincing, he sets the mug down, running to the fridge to get creamer. “Changbin hyung, did you get the wrong creamer again? I told you to get the vanilla one, this one’s dairy free!” Changbin lowers his phone, covering the speaker. “Why the fuck are you even drinking coffee at this hour? Go buy your own fucking creamer if you want it so much then!” “I’m broke hyung! Plus the campus convenience store and the supermarket are closed already, use your pea brain!” “Use milk and sugar Jisung! I’m busy!” Returning to the call, he makes his way into his room, not wanting to have to deal with the two parasites outside. “Tell me everything (Y/n), oh he’s bruising for a cruising playing with your feelings like that-”

A sob passes through the speaker.

“I was just trying to check on him-”

“Scratch that, I’ll be there in twenty, don’t do anything stupid by yourself.”

Shoving the door of his room out of his way, he storms towards the three refrigerators in the kitchen, the other three people in the unit following him in sight (Seungmin heard the commotion and decided to come out of his man cave for once to assess the situation). He pushes Jisung to the side, pulling open the doors to the biggest one. “Soju... soju... soju... there it is.” He untangles the biggest plastic bag he can find from the huge bag on top of the fridge (Minho seems to collect plastic bags at this point, it’s getting annoying) and shoves just about all the bottles of soju he can fit into the flimsy piece of plastic. Moving on to the next fridge, he slams the previous one close, startling Jisung. “Hyung, are you okay?” Changbin ignores him, scrambling to grab the two family sized tubs of ice cream. “Hyung, that’s the last of our ice cream-” Yet again ignoring Jisung’s complaint, he makes his way to the pantry, throwing in the most tooth rottingly sweet candies he can find, a few bags of those honey butter chips and all of Jisung’s cup ramens. In the past couple of minutes, Seungmin had picked up on the situation on hand. He whisper yells at Jisung, making weird gestures to catch his attention. Once his eyes meet Jisungs’s, he frantically jerks his head towards the rooms (It’s like some secret bro code the two have). Jisung picks up on the message, shutting up and shuffling to his room along with Seungmin, before locking their bedroom doors. After his expedition in the kitchen, Changbin goes back to his room, just to grab a duffel bag to put everything in. He takes his switch and the dock, his laptop, and throws his phone into the mix (Both Jisung and Minho agree that Changbin needs to stop abusing his phone, Seungmin doesn’t really care). The only one left in the living room watches as he angrily puts his shoes on, and slams the front door just a little too aggressively as he goes. Hearing the front door close, the two younger boys come out of hiding, finally safe from their scarily furious friend. “My cup noodles... Minho hyung my cup noodles....” “Let’s just wait for him to buy them for us again, leave him alone for now.”

【３：００　ａｍ】 It’s been exactly 21 minutes since you had called Changbin and he is now furiously knocking at your door because 1) You need moral support, clearly, 2) He didn’t bring all the food and risk getting the life nagged out of him when he goes back for nothing, and 3) Your ex boyfriend’s new chick is about to receive a very explicit call from a very angry person. “Oi (Y/n), it’s Changbin, open up.” From inside, you wrap your Armin futon throw blanket around your tired body, before waddling to the front door to your apartment. Gripping the blanket together with one hand, you twist the doorknob with the other and pull. It’s almost like one of those slot machines you would always see in dramas. You pull the lever with all the might you can muster during this trying time and BAM! You hit the jackpot and an angry Changbin comes into sight. He looks scary, almost. His demeanor could probably kill right now if you didn’t know better. “Come in... yeah come on in....” His hand loosens around the duffel bag, dropping it on the floor while he gets his shoes off. You penguin waddle back to where you were sitting on the couch, picking up the crumpled tissues and throwing them out. “Make yourself at home.” You feel a stare burn into your back as you step off the bin pedal. “I’m here, now tell me everything that happened with this asshole.”

“So what I’m getting from this is that Junwoo fucker said he was going out to get groceries, which was a lie at that time but you didn’t know. He took a suspiciously long time so you, being the paranoid ass person you are, went to check on him, only to see him making out with some hussey that wouldn’t stop making moves on him during that dumb lecture you had in the afternoon, correct?” You nod, tears starting to form again for the fourth- no, was it the fifth? About the fifth time in the past minute or so that you spent explaining the situation. “(Y/n), sweetie, I’m gonna need the name of the hussey.” “No, you’re going to do something stupid.” “I wasn’t asking, give it.” You give Changbin a stink eye, acting like you were completely against whatever he has in mind despite actually being curious to see what he has planned (An angry Changbin is a scary Changbin but a rare one also). “It’s Jimin from the dance team.” His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “No, he did NOT!” You nod solemnly, sniffing. "He cheated on you for that slut?” “Binnie! That’s rude!” “Oh please, I don’t like to disrespect women but you know that it’s true.” That shuts you up instantly. He’s not wrong, so far she’s been caught up in the middle of way too many relationships to count. She’s pretty much notorious for sleeping with people’s boyfriends now. Horrid, really, she knows what she’s doing and she enjoys it. Changbin practically rips the zipper off his duffel bag and snatches his poor, abused phone, before scrolling through his contacts to find Jimin (He would delete her contact from his phone if he could, really. He’s tried, but she hit on him so hard on campus as a threat that he kept it just to be safe. Quite honestly though, he doesn’t really care now). “Binnie, no-” He puts the call on speaker, his feet tapping at the floor impatiently. “Bitch, you better pick up before I find you and pick it up for you-”

“Hello?”

His face lights up when he hears Jimin’s voice from the other side of the line. “Oh yeah hi! Here’s your friendly Changbin reminder that your new boyfriend’s an asshole!” You can almost see the sneer that Jimin has on her face. “Uh, and who are you to say that? Twink.” Your mind doesn’t even let you properly process what she said because Changbin’s already retaliating. “Oh, you know, just from his ex partner he was cheating on, but you can state your arguments if you’d like. Also that wasn’t very nice, calling me a twink, considering you hit on me every day on campus.” Changbin’s aura goes borderline murderous when a chuckle sounds from the speaker. “Oh? Them? He could do better anyways.” “Okay listen here you little slut, I’m gonna be honest with you, because no one ever will. Any guy that says they’re in any way interested in you beyond just using you as a fuck toy, is full of bullshi-”

You slam your finger onto the big red button before he can say anything more.

Changbin’s seething with anger, even though he isn’t showing it. You know that because 1) He’s oddly calm in this situation and 2) He just openly called one of the most known people in the college a slut. “Seo Changbin, calm yourself down. Please.” Those were some harsh words he said to Jimin, it was completely out of his usually good natured, well spoken character. He closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, before grabbing a flimsy white plastic bag out from the duffel bag. He shoots his hand to the bottom, grabbing one of the 15 bottles of soju he brought over. He wrenches open the bottle cap, before chugging half the bottle in one sitting. “How much stuff did you bring?” Changbin really is oddly stable considering he had just gotten called a twink and went off at someone through the phone. “About 15 bottles of soju, two tubs of ice cream, a few bags of those honey butter chips, all the cup ramens in the pantry, and a bunch of those Hi-Chews that I know you love because you keep taking them from me and eating them in class.” He grabs another bottle of soju from the plastic bag, as well as a pack of Hi-Chews. “Drink?” You sulk, taking the green bottle from him while he rips open a pack of candies, popping one in his mouth. “Damn, on Christmas day too, what an ass, Junwoo.” You roll your eyes, taking in a mouthful of alcohol from the bottle. “You’re so stupid Binnie, she’s going to ruin your life because of that stupid call.” “Me? Stupid? The only stupid thing here is you managing to stay with Junwoo for an entire year. I knew he was toxic from the start. Besides, what’s Jimin going to do? She’s got nothing on me. I might as well be the only person that hasn’t sent her nudes or something.”

It sounds harsh, almost mean, but you know that he’s not lying. Your ex boyfriend was the most toxic, manipulative person you’ve ever been with yet you stayed with him for over a year, it’s unbelievable, really.

“Can I take a cup ramen?” Changbin doesn’t even spare a glance at you, he’s typing away on his phone (Looks like the nagging has started, one could never expect no complaints after taking all the comfort food from the kitchen). “No, you can’t. I brought all this food because it’s three in the morning and I suddenly want to eat at your house. Of course you can, this is about you, do whatever you want.” You grab one of the cups from the bag, before sluggishly making your way to the kitchen to boil water. Seeing that you left your seat, Changbin empties out the plastic bag, before discarding all the rubbish that you left behind prior to his arrival. Tissues, boxes, chocolate wrappers, everything, he throws them all into the white bag. “That should do.” Ripping open a pack of honey butter chips (Minho needs to chill out about him taking a few packs considering he bulk bought these in boxes. One pack won’t hurt), he takes one, before setting it down and waiting for you to return.

Meanwhile, the remaining three in Changbin’s apartment have just received a reply. “Hey... hey hEY HEY WE GOT A TEXT BACK EVERYONE!” Both Seungmin and Minho gather around Jisung and his phone. “Changbin hyung says he’s not coming back tonight and that he’ll restock the food he took when he’s back, what do we do?” The two young ones look expectantly at Minho, as if he would have any good advice. “I don’t know, should I give him a call-” “Are you mad? He’s going to tear you to shreds hyung, don’t waste your life like that!” Minho sighs in exasperation. “Then we’ll just have to wait for him to be back.” Seungmin and Jisung look to the floor almost guiltily. “He won’t even tell us what happened... how are we supposed to do anything about it?” “You don’t, that’s what you do, you don’t do anything about it until he calms down and tells us about it. Now Seungmin, stop playing your games and Jisung, stop doing solo karaoke and go to sleep.”

【５：５８　ａｍ】 “This is going to be the first and last night you get to be this unhealthy, we’re using healthy coping mechanisms instead of… whatever the fuck this is.” You look at him, a mouthful of ramen hanging from your food vacuum as you slurp it up loudly (For context, you’ve managed to go through four cup ramens, two bags of chips, a pack of Hi-Chews, and an additional three bottles of soju to wash it all down. The two tubs of ice cream remain untouched in the freezer. In other words, you were binge eating, all while being shit faced drunk). The TV blares from in the front of the living room, the Mario Kart theme playing on loop. Your controller sits on the coffee table, completely unattended as you get busy with eating. “Haaaaah? I need the junk food Binnie, it’s all a part of recovery!” Changbin clicks his tongue, before flicking your forehead. “That’s just a shitty excuse to be unhealthy, we don’t stan that.” Frowning, you snatch a few chips with your chopsticks and shove them in your mouth grumpily. “Now, where were we... ah! Yeah! Prepare for another devastating loss Binnie! You shall not come out victorious!” (Cmon, you really think you could beat Changbin in Mario Kart drunk? Hunny, he was losing on purpose.) He lets out a breathy chuckle, before picking you up bridal style, walking to your room, and throwing you onto your bed. “That’s about enough for now, go to sleep. I already know your hangover tomorrow’s going to be absolutely horrible.” You whine, tossing and turning. “But I don’t wanna go to sleeeeeeep... I wanna win again... I wanna playyyyy... gamess....” And with that your voice trails off. “Idiot, you would just pass out halfway.” He closes the door behind him as he leaves your room, but not before gently releasing the console from your warm, clammy hands. Coming to terms with what he has to do next, Changbin massages his neck when he sees the absolute mess of a living room. “Now, where do we start?” All the homework and study cramming is about to come in handy as he starts to clean up all the rubbish left sitting around. He sets his eyes on your pink blanket. It’s 2°C out, his nose is prickly and red as he sneezes, and he still quickly notices an alcoholic smell wafting out from the pink throw blanket. Reaching over to feel it, the fabric is slightly damp under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you for sure spilled soju over this thing. Tag... tag... tag....” his hand roams around the thick blanket, feeling for a laundry tag. He whips his phone out, searching for a laundry care symbol guide (It’s been a while since he’s done laundry properly. Seungmin is in charge of doing everyone’s laundry since he contributes the least). “40°C water at the highest, tumble dry on low.... alright.” He bunches up the blanket, the fabric hanging to the floor from his arms. Trying to get to the laundry room hurriedly, he almost trips over the soft material, stomping on the floor obnoxiously loud to regain his balance (The neighbours are going to seriously hate him for this). He throws it into the washing machine and slams the compartment door shut. Scanning the room for detergent, he deadpans when he sees where it’s located. “Why would you put it that high up in the shelf? You’re not even that tall-” He tries everything, from standing on his tiptoes, to jumping in order to reach it. All those attempts end in vain, and he resorts to his final trick- climbing on top of the washing machine. “Cmon, just a feeeew more millimeters-” The dust from the top of the cabinet along with the temperature causes him to sneeze profusely, almost losing his balance. But with a hook of his fingers, he manages to push the bottle out, before grabbing it and using the bottle to push another bottle of dettol out. He wrenches open the lids, before clumsily pouring out the needed amounts, but not without spilling it on the floor. Cursing, he quickly sets the washing machine for a one hour cycle. He then grabs a random towel from on top of the machine and wipes the floor now. “I guess it’s squeaky clean now, you did good Changbin, you did good. Go me.” With one job done, he makes his way back to the living room. The main area is so messy that Changbin has to form a proper plan on how to clean everything up with the highest efficiency. He grabs the ramen cups, draining out the soup and throwing them out. The chopsticks clank together when they hit the kitchen sink as he turns the tap on. He grabs a sponge, soaking it in water and squeezing detergent onto it, before scrubbing the chopsticks clean. With the dishwashing done, he staggers his way towards the coffee table. He’s tired. He’s so fucking tired that his eyes are about to betray his mind. His arms are numb and the floor is wobbling from beneath his feet. He sneezes a few more times, sniffling. He sighs, wiping his nose and warming it up with the sleeve of his hoodie. If anyone pushes him with a bit of effort, he’ll probably fall over and pass out, but he absolutely refuses to let you wake up to a messy living room. He makes use of the vibrant Mario Kart podium segment still blaring on the TV to keep himself awake while he works on cleaning everything up. Seeing that the sky has progressed from pitch black to a beautiful, yet dreadful shade of aegean blue, he’s pretty sure he won’t be getting any sleep any time soon.

【７：４７　ａｍ】 You cough yourself awake to the burning stench of smoke. The world really said “Lol your life is burning and crumbling down” and took it a little too seriously. Fire, fire, fire, what’s the worst that could happen? Fire needs to give itself a vibe check, can’t it see that you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now? You squeeze your brows together and pull your sheets back over your body. If not for the panicked yelling from outside you would’ve stayed in bed and just waited for whatever fire was burning to reach your room. Hearing Changbin’s chain of swears and curses, you shoot up, more worried for him than for yourself. “CHANGBIN!” You get no reply. You’re horrified, probably both from the hangover working its magic at making you more paranoid and sensitive than you already are, and the possibility that the apartment’s going to burn down. You scramble to the kitchen, choking when you reach the hallway. The amount of smokiness in the living room makes it impossible to see anything clearly. One thing is for sure- there is no fire. What there is though, is a very startled Changbin squatting next to a tray of what looks like charcoal.

“Binnie, what the fuck did you do?”

Poor boy, he looks like a lost puppy, a small pout evident on his face. “I was trying to make you breakfast, but I think I set the oven to the wrong temperature, turns out it doesn’t take that much heat to toast bread.” Pinching your nose, you take a glance at the oven. “Changbin I- why is it set to 250 degrees?” “I just told you, I don’t think toast needs that much heat!” It’s almost funny how bad he fucked up. You would laugh wholeheartedly if not for the borderline deadly amount of smoke wafting around your apartment. “Changbin, I have a toaster.” “I don’t know how to use it though, it’s too digital and it makes weird noises.” You let out an exasperated sigh (You knew getting a digital toaster was eventually going to lead to some problems), taking the tray out from the oven and discarding the two pieces of what used to be toast. “Binnie, do me a favour and go open up the windows.” Hearing his cue to leave the crime scene, he rushes to the other side of the living room, opening everything up. “It’s been 84 years... fresh air, hello....” You let out a sarcastic chuckle, before throwing out the piece of foil on the tray. You scan your surroundings, everything is in place, the apartment is squeaky clean, your futon is on a drying rack outside on the balcony, and that’s when it hits you. “Changbin, if you tell me you didn’t get any sleep cleaning my place up for me, I will knock you out here and now.” You speed walk towards him faster than Karen walks to the manager, before taking in his features. His eyebags are heavier and darker than usual, his face is pale, his hair is a mess, his eyes focus on nothing in silence. “Seo Changbin!” You snap in front of his face, startling him out of his trancelike state. “Huh? I swear I’m okay, don’t even worry.” His voice is hoarse and nasally, and he sneezes a few times after his statement, sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve for the second time this day. You don’t even give him time to move away or protest. Your fingers pinch his ear at the speed of light, before pulling him to your room and practically shoving him onto your bed. “Sleep.” Changbin pouts, curling into a ball. “But I don’t need to sleep! I’m perfectly fine-” “No, you’re not, you almost burned my apartment down messing with the oven tired, sleep.” You don’t wait for a response as you slam the lights off and shut the bedroom door.

【２：２３　ｐｍ】It’s been about seven hours since you practically forced Changbin to sleep, the ending of the final episode of Death Parade reminding you of the time that has passed. “He’s still not up?” Mumbling to yourself, you creak the door to your room open, being as silent as possible. “Changbin?” No reply. The covers don’t even budge the slightest bit. You are so taking a photo of his sleeping face for future uses. The second you pull your phone out, it starts ringing, the recording of Jisung’s impression of Changbin’s iconic “Yoooooh” blaring through the speakers like a concert (The two of you snuck into one of his music project recording sessions without him knowing, music major things am I right). You throw yourself out of the room, picking the phone up. “Hello-” “(Y/n)!” Dear God it’s Jisung, loud as ever. “Where’s Changbin hyung?” Of course he didn’t tell them anything. “He’s here, asleep, I forced him to sleep.” “Okay, when he wakes up tell him that he owes us everything he took from the pantry, and that he should come home, thanks!” “Wait-” And that little shit hangs up on you just like that. You place your phone onto the coffee table, before going back to check on Changbin. Scratch the idea of a photo, you’ll just do it next time. You kneel down next to your bed, placing your palm on his forehead. “You idiot, thank God you didn’t cook and get me sick along with you.” Being a medical science major, you never overlook anybody’s wellbeing, especially not your best friend’s. When you feel his burning forehead, you almost slap him in his sleep. He’s in for it when he eventually wakes up. Trying your best, you pull the blanket out from underneath him (He fell asleep pretty much straight after you shoved him onto the bed). He stirs, mumbling softly. “Where... where am I...? Who... am... I...? Who are... you?” You scrunch your face up, finally ripping the blanket from underneath him. Working quickly, you throw it over him, before turning on the heat setting for the aircon in your room. Doesn’t look like he’s going to wake up anytime soon, he looks like a sleeping baby. Motionless and oddly talkative and soft. In the meantime, you might as well go read over the old messages with Junwoo and cry a little more.

【４：５８　ｐｍ】 It’s been another two hours, your eyes are puffy and red from the crying, Changbin still hasn’t woken up yet. You pick up the ramen cup and drag yourself forcefully from the couch to the kitchen, throwing the soup out along with the cup, and reaching up to find the paracetamol and fever relief patches (Which you bought five packs of at a time for a great buy three get two free deal) from the box of first aid and medical essentials. Taking it out of the box, you keep it in your pocket, just in case. You make your way to your room, opening up your cabinet and grabbing your car keys. You shove those into your pocket as well, before peeling off the wrapper of a fever relief patch and sticking that flat on Changbin’s forehead. You throw on a trenchcoat to cover up the fact that you’re wearing a pyjama shirt with tights, get your boots on, and head over to Jisung’s place.

【５：１７　ｐｍ】“Jisung! Let me in!” You rap at their door until your knuckles hurt and a slightly concerned Minho pulls it open, his three cats following their owner and rubbing their cute little cheeks on your leg. “Oh, it’s you. Come on in, Jisung’s not here, what do you need?” “I just need to grab clothes for Changbin, he won’t stop wiping his nose on his sleeve, it’s gross, and he needs a shower.” “Go ahead.” Shooting Minho a quick thanks, you run into Changbin’s room, rummaging through his drawers and cabinets. For someone with a major obsession with hoodies, he sure doesn’t have many. You randomly grab a pair of sweats, along with a tshirt and the thickest hoodie you can find, before you drop the clothes, letting out a funny sound of embarrassment. “Fuck, Minho!”

【５：３９　ｐｍ】It’s warm. It’s really warm, in contrast to how Changbin remembers feeling the last time he was awake. What time even is it? He doesn’t have his phone, and he notices that it’s starting to go dark out, looks about 6pm for the typical Korean winter... and the sound of running water? He kicks the blanket off of him (which he doesn’t remember covering himself with), and is welcomed by an oddly warm room for 2°C weather. Did you manage to throw the blanket over him and turn the heater on at some point when he was asleep? A lump forms at his throat at the thought, a tiny smile threatening to show. The light from the bathroom blinds him temporarily when he opens the bedroom door, and as his eyes adjust to the light, he can see you filling up a bathtub with water. “Oh, you’re awake, just in time.” He’s still dazed from the drowsiness as he staggers a little bit into the bathroom. “I got you a change of clothes, underwear and all, and paracetamol there for your fever.” You’re in your trench coat, the one you wouldn’t shut up about after buying, or so he remembers. “Did you go over to mine to get the clothes?” You let out a breathy chuckle, cupping your cheeks sarcastically. “Oh no! I secretly hide a stash of your clothes and underwear in my house! Get in the bath Binnie, I’ll make dinner outside.” He’s hesitant, but as you close the door behind him he can’t help but be welcomed by the bubbly hot bath in front of him.

【６：００　ｐｍ】“Did you take the paracetamol I left in there?” You chuckle a little at the towel hanging around his neck. “You look like one of those hardcore grandpas in animes.” You stir the tiny stone pot in front of you, making sure not to splash the red soup onto your shirt. “Yeah, I took the pill, thanks.” From the corner of your eye, you can see Changbin heading towards the kitchen. “Uh uh uh, stop right there buddy. You are not going anywhere near the kitchen, nope. I know you want to help, but I’m almost done, so just sit your ass down at the coffee table.” He does as you say like an obedient little puppy, sitting down at the wooden table. Putting on a pair of oven mitts, you carefully carry the scorching hot pot and a plastic mat to the table, setting it down while the liquid continues bubbling. “Now you can go in and help me grab the rice and bowls.”

Changbin once told you that he would never set his eyes on one of your “stupid japanese cartoons” because apparently they're too immature for a 5′6 college student to watch. That’s complete bullshit. He doesn’t even see the kimchi stew drip onto your coffee table because his eyes are glued to Hunter x Hunter which you coaxed him into watching with you. You scoff, mixing the stew into your rice. “Move your spoon Changbin, it’s dripping all over my table.” He snaps out of his trance, hovering his spoon on top of his rice instead. “Poor Ikalgo, all he wanted was to be a squid and have friends....” “Are you going to eat up or not?” You watch as his hand slowly tilts to let the liquid drip into his rice, his eyes not once leaving the tv screen as he mixes it and shoves a spoonful into his mouth. “Ikalgo... you deserve everything. Absolutely everything.” This is a sight, you take your phone out and snap a pic before he notices. “What happened to anime being too immature for you huh?” “Shut up (Y/n).” He retorts, shoving another heaping spoonful of rice into his mouth. “Are you... about to cry?” Changbin continues to stuff his mouth with food, his cheeks puffing up. “Oh my god you’re crying! You’re crying over an anime!” “No I’m not.” He forces himself to mumble out a disagreement with all that food in his mouth, however his watery eyes completely betray him and say otherwise. You stay silent, smirking at him knowingly. “It’s just Ikalgo deserves so much better, if Killua doesn’t become his friend I’m going to stop watching.” He looks so reluctant to admit it that you start laughing, a snort sounding from your nose. “Called it, you’re getting sentimental over a childish fucking anime!” “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone, Seungmin will never let me live this down.” “Thanks for the idea, idiot.”

【１０：４２　ｐｍ】Sentimental hours are open starting from 10:30pm till whenever your body decides to fall asleep. Poor Changbin has been trying to comfort you since then, yet all has been in vain. “Changbinnie, am I really good enough for anyone then? Am I good enough for someone to just stay with me?” No one likes seeing a pretty girl cry, let alone their best friend being said pretty girl. Seeing you cry pulls on his heartstrings. It angers him to the point where all he wants to do is break Junwoo’s face, yet knowing how you wouldn’t like a fight is the only thing stopping him from going along with his desires. “(Y/n), for the last time, you are more than good enough. Please just listen, he was a douchebag all along, you knew that. He didn’t do this because you weren’t good enough for him, he did this because he was selfish and toxic, at least he’s out of your life for good now.” You slump into the mattress further, Changbin staring at you hopelessly. “You can’t keep this up you know, it’s self destructive.” You try your best to move your eyes towards him, but the angle you’re lying in doesn’t allow for that as you feel the strain in the corner of your eye. “For the record I am very much aware of that, thank you.” You feel a hand on the top of your head, stroking your hair softly. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re better off without him and there’s plenty of fish in the sea anyways.” You turn and toss a little bit, shoving your face into and wrapping your arms around his torso while you sulk (If people didn’t know better, they would mistake the two of you for a couple). Your fingers grazing his body sent warm pinpricks up his spine and feathers in his stomach. Changbin’s hand never leaves your head even as you stop sniffling and the room slowly shifts into a comfortable silence. “How is it that you treat me better than how my ex did so for me?” His eyes leave the phone in his other hand to glance at you empathetically. For a moment, he isn’t the witty, sharp tongued Changbin everyone came to know. He hopes you can’t see the almost devastating look on his face as he smiles pitifully, such vulnerability that he will only ever show towards you. “Anyone could treat you better than that guy.” He doesn’t get a verbal reply, but instead receives a string of soft snores slightly muffled by the fabric of his sweater. Satisfied, he has to pry your arms off of him to reach the lights, turning them off. “Binnie, come backkkkkk...” Freezing in his tracks at your words, he sighs, rolling his eyes in slight amusement. He slips himself in bed next to you, getting comfortable with your arms back around his torso. You mumble a few incoherent words, before dosing back to sleep.

Meanwhile in Changbin’s apartment, Jisung feels a sneeze coming. He braces for the impact, before sneezing once, then twice, then the third time. “Oh my god, it’s happening.” Seungmin side eyes him, giving Jisung a weird look. “Not you with your stupid mind bonds or whatever you call it.” “No I swear, it’s real, three sneezes that’s what I told Changbin hyung would happen if he ever did it.”

Now, the two of you have long since passed out amidst the comfort of your bed. However, let me share you a little secret, You, who were the most reluctant to share your sanctuary with someone else, you’re going to wake up from the best sleep you’ve had in months tomorrow morning.

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ladybugsfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

The Case of the Blue Sweater | Tom Hiddleston

Pairing: Mob!Tom Hiddleston x cop!reader

Style: one shot

WC: 10.7k

Warnings: crime, alcohol, drinking, implied sexual content (very much so), uhh, theres no blood, also NB: THIS STORY IS INCOMPLETE AND I WONT BE THE ONE TO FINISH IT! (story is also unedited to please dont hate me for any mistakes)

Summary: Hey so I read your Mob!Tom x reader and it got me thinking.. Could you write a Fic where Tom is in the mob but the reader is a cop? And like they’re secretly dating but technically the reader has to make it look like they’re hunting him down but they really aren’t? (If that makes sense) Idk I feel like I just need this in my life rn 😂😂

A/N: i got this ask back in january i think and i jumped on it right away, but at some point tumblr deleted it so i cant tag who asked (and i know this wasnt anonymous bc i remember but i never put it in the doc annoyingly). anyways, i started writing it, got to 10k words and lost motivation and never finished it. i really like the AU but nothing ever really happened.... im so sorry. I hope you enjoy what i have ^_^

A loud ringing paired with the loudest on and off buzzing from your phone vibrating on the nightstand is what pulls you out of your slumber. The sounds screech in your ears and you reach over to stop it, to just slide the button over so that your ears can stop bleeding. However, as you lean out of the arms wrapped around you, their grip strengthens and you’re dragged back into the chest of the man sharing your bed.

“Tom,” you say. A smile plays on your lips, the set of events not unusual for an early morning.

He nuzzles into your hair, places a wet kiss at the base of your neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbles into your skin.

You shake your head slightly, as much as you can with the limited space. “Can I at least turn the sound off?”

His grip slackens, making you able to reach the little way over to turn off the blaring alarm. The silence that comes with is welcome in every way, but the relief isn’t long-lasting when Tom drags you back into his chest, his nose quickly nuzzling back to where it was.

Two seconds is what it takes before he’s pressing kisses to your neck. Rough, slender fingers graze up the side of your body until they reach your neck, where they brush away your hair. With Tom’s easy access, the soft kisses slowly turn into something more, something rougher, and the use of his tongue causes a slight tickle to trail through your body.

“Tom.” You shift a little where you lay, taking away his access as you turn your head. In the shift, the man easily moves to trail kisses up your jaw, and as you whisper his name again, his lips connect with yours.

It’s a hungry kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip and his hand grabs your jaw, holding your head in place. You lean into him, kissing him back with equal fervor, however, you’re quickly dragged out of the bliss, when your phone goes off again.

There is no mistaking the death glare Tom sends the mini-computer. You chuckle slightly and push him off you to reach it. This time, it’s not an alarm, but a phone call.

Your boss’s call ID lights up the screen, and you give Tom a stern look as you press to accept the call. With the phone to your ear, Tom shrugs and moves under the covers. His hands trail down your body, teasing you as his fingers trace up your inner thighs.

“Y/L/N,” you say.

A grunt is heard from the other side first, then, “I need you to come in ASAP.” Your boss’s voice sounds urgent, desperate.

You check the clock. “I’m not supposed to come in in another hour,” you reply. “Is it that important?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t have called you otherwise.” It’s like you can hear him nod and roll his eyes at the same time. “We got a lead in the case.”

“What kind of lead? And which case?”

As your boss answers, you can feel Tom’s tongue on the inside of your thigh. In surprise at the feeling you barely manage to suppress the squeal that works up in your throat, and you miss your boss’s reply. (You don’t miss Tom’s smug laugh from under the duvet, nor how he continues to work his way closer to your clit.)

“Y/L/N?” comes from the other end of the line when you gain back… well, really some of your dignity, but mostly your mind.

“I’m here, sir.” You sigh. “Just something that happened that caught my attention. Cat nearly knocked down something made of glass.”

(You don’t have a cat, why was that the first excuse you could come up with? Your boss doesn’t know that, though, so it’s safe.)

“Didn’t know you had a cat, but that could happen to the best of us.” Your boss clears his throat. “The lead’s pretty good, but can’t say it over the phone so you gotta come in. It’s on the case about the Blue Sweater.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname of the case. One of the major criminals you were trying to take down is often seen wearing blue sweaters, and at a briefing you’d offered it as a code name; who knows who listens in on phone calls―they do seem to have a knack for being one step ahead of you, too.

But you don’t mention that to your boss. “Alright, sir, I’ll be on my way as fast as I can.”

“Make it less than half an hour and we’re good.”

“No problem, sir.”

Your boss is the one to hang up, and as you throw your phone down on the bed, Tom peeks his head up from under the covers. You send him a glare. “You should be happy you didn’t get started whilst I was on the phone.”

Your boyfriend smirks up at you. “Oh, you wouldn’t have liked that?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t like it.”

Tom shrugs. “You got time, right?” Though before you can answer he slides back under the cover, uses his hands to steady your hips and dips his head low. God, if only you had more time.

The moment the elevator door opens and you step out into the crowded office space of the police station, you hear your name being called. You wish you weren’t the head detective on the, currently, biggest case pertaining to crime bosses. Just once you wish you could come to work and not have at least five people at a time want to ask you a question or pepper you with information you already have.

You kind of wish you weren’t the head detective for another reason, too, but that’s a minor detail. Actually, that might be the reason you need to be the head detective; way easier to steer an investigation when you’re leading it.

Nonetheless, you have no choice in which cases you lead or not. And that’s usually the reason why there’s three people cluttering your desk as you sit down. You’re not entirely sure that’s the reason today.

You plop down in your chair and stare up at the talking men in front of you. The three of them notice you quickly (after all, it was them that yelled your name) and the chatter dies out.

“I’m here half an hour early and I would love to know what made me skip my morning shower.” (It would have been morning shower sex, and you are a little very annoyed that you had to skip it.)

Your boss coughs, gaining your attention. “Briefing room. Five minutes.” The man looks slightly uncomfortable, but that’s not a big surprise. You’ve been told many times that you have that kind of face that makes people squirm; just something about you is, apparently, intimidating.

“Okay.”

And he walks away.

“You two doing at my desk then?” you ask your coworkers. The two men are your right and left hand in most cases, but this one especially. You wouldn’t even be half the way you are now if you didn’t have them. (Though how much that says, you’re not sure, because you really have nothing.)

“Well…,” starts Mackie. His hand goes up to scratch his neck. “...really we just naturally gravitate here.”

You squint at him, and divert your gaze to Evans (who you know is a shitty liar). Even though you’re not opening your mouth to say anything and he isn’t looking at you, you can see the big man trying to make himself smaller.

“We were gonna try and see if you’d left a hint to who you’re sleeping with,” he says, and despite the way he doesn’t meet your gaze, he says it so casually you’re actually taken aback.

“Excuse me?” You let out a huff, and shake your head. “My sex life is my sex life. You two” ―you point at both of them― “have no business with it.” You stand up from your chair and shake your head yet again. “And if you really think I’d leave evidence lying around, I gotta figure out how to let you know that’s not something I’d do.”

(And if you had, well, your career would for sure be over. If not worse.)

But with that out of the way, you make your way to the briefing room. Captain Cheadle, your boss, stands at the head of the table. In his hand, he holds a wireless presenter, and a few papers are scattered on the table in front of him. You take your place at the table, and as you do, your phone buzzes to signal a new message.

The captain gives you a shrug and that’s all the permission you need to fish your phone from your pocket and check the text.

[08.38] twh darling, you left something at your flat

[08.38] you you talking about yourself? that doesnt count

[08.39] twh that too but no, you left your keys

[08.39] you you doing anything today??

[08.39] twh you know i am, but i can get them to you

[08.40] you gtg but yes please or there are other solutions…

You let out a slight groan knowing you’ll have to figure out how to get your keys without actually meeting Tom. You can’t meet in public, and there are few places where you can meet without being discovered; there’s a reason you’re always at your apartment and never at his house. (well, you’ve been there once, but that was with work and it doesn’t count.)

Whatever his reply is to the latest text you sent, you don’t get to read (though you do feel the vibration on your thigh). Captain Cheadle has called for your attention, Mackie and Evans having seated themselves in the room as well, and you can’t do anything but pay attention to your boss.

“The tip we got is an inside tip.” The captain steps aside to let the projector show a photo of the biggest crime boss currently in New York City, Tom Hiddleston. As with every other photo he’s in, he’s wearing a fucking blue sweater. “The source is reliable, as we know of their work with Hiddleston, but we’re not sure if the tip is.”

He clicks to another photo, which is of the same man getting into a car. Only, he’s getting into the driver’s seat, something that is unusual for someone that has his own driver. “We can’t know if the tip is true or not, but we’re guessing there’s some truth to it.”

You roll your eyes slightly (not enough for the captain to notice). “Can you tell us what it is yet?”

Captain Cheadle nods. “There’s been a mystery woman in his life. None of his men know, but based on a lift in spirits and an increase in nights gone from his own house, they believe he has to be seeing someone. Rumor amidst his men, according to our tip, is that it's been going on for a few months.”

A knot tightens in your gut. A few months is a little less than correct, but yeah… It’s been six months since you started dating Tom Hiddleston. Off work, on a weekend, you met him in a bar, you got drunk and your mind didn’t work in any other way than tell you how hot he was and how good he made you feel. There was little persuasion needed for Tom to get you in a bed, naked, and screaming out his name. And so far, he’s managed to do it most nights since.

(The case had been assigned to you a month after your first encounter. You’d known his name well before you met him, but that hadn’t stopped you. And, even as his girlfriend, you had no evidence on him whatsoever.)

Yet, after six months of no one knowing anything, you’d been fairly certain you’d get away with it. At least until either one of you got enough of pretending. Tom has enough money for you to quit your job should it come to it, the only problem being that you don’t want to because you love your job.

“Did your source say anything about who the woman could be? Where to find her?” asks Evans.

You wait patiently for the reply. Your gut stirs with the thought that they’d know, that just your face (usually a poker-face no one could read no matter how much you panicked on the inside) would reveal you. But you aren’t revealing anything but being deep in thought, as you can feel Mackie’s eyes on you as your own flicker across the room and a frown has pronounced itself on your face.

“The tip was slight, but the source believes that there might be something to check at a bar. It’s one Hiddleston frequents, High Rise.”

Oh, if only the name didn’t chime with recognition at the back of your mind. There isn’t much to do but accept your fate and follow up on the lead, only try your best to avoid being recognized as the girl who left with Tom Hiddleston half a year ago. That could be rather easy, seeing as the bar was dark and you’d been wearing more make-up than usual and the dress you wore hadn’t stood out in any way, and it being six months ago.

You nod at captain Cheadle. “Anything else we should know?”

He nods slightly. “There came one more thing with the tip, but this wasn’t a written message.” He roams around his papers for something and eventually fishes out an evidence bag. Inside is an envelope and something small you can’t see from far away. He slides it across the table to you.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of what lies in the bag. The envelope easily recognizable as one you’d written yourself (though you’d used a typewriter―fancy―so there isn’t any handwriting to check), and the content a barely visible silver and gold wristband inscribed with a phrase Tom has whispered time and time again in your ear (the most intimate you’ve been outside of sex); my safe spot is with you in my arms.

Your fingers graze over it as you look at the inscription. “That’s pretty intimate,” you say, and an agreed murmur comes from your captain.

“You traced it?” asks Mackie.

“Untraceable. Paid in cash, no receipt, and might even have been done illegally.”

At least you know that that’s not true, and if they’d tried just a little bit harder, it wouldn’t be that hard.

“Fingerprints?” you ask, though not sure exactly where it comes from. (Or, well, it comes from the fact that you’ve touched the wristband on several occasions and that, unless wiped, there should be fingerprints all over it.)

You look up from the evidence bag to see captain Cheadle shake his head. “A few around the clasp, but none enough to make a full print, and any other we could find are only Hiddleston’s. The envelope’s the same”

“The question is whether Hiddleston sent it to someone or if someone sent it to him.” Evans motions for you to slide the evidence over to him, and you do.

“He’s the biggest crime lord in New York, he’s gotta be real smitten if he’d make that to send to someone.” Mackie shrugs, not sold on the idea that Tom Hiddleston, crime boss extreme, could be sappy enough to send it apparently.

Well, if only you knew what Tom would do for the one he loves, if only you knew.

“Well,” you say and clap your hands together, “seems we have more to do today than reports.”

A slight chuckle comes from the three men in the room with you.

“I want you, Mackie, with me on a trip down to High Rise. Captain, is it possible to talk to our source other than written communication?”

A nod.

“Then I want you, Evans, to have a little chat with Hiddleston’s ex-buddy. Let’s see if he doesn’t have more information, and if you can’t get much, try a little harder on the wristband. There’s gotta be something to look for there, maybe mention it to our source?”

“On it.” Evans gives you a thumbs up, grabs the evidence and walks out the door. You and Mackie move to do the same, and on your way there, you fish your phone out from your pocket.

[08.41] twh i’ll have to get back to you on that, but you can probably count me in have a good day, darling

[09.27] you sounds great but, on some not so good news, you got a snitch amidst you and i have smth that belongs to you in evidence

You don’t wait for a reply, certain he’s busy and also because Mackie is a nosy asshole and you’re not gonna get caught on a text message.

“You know where High Rise is?” asks Mackie as you make your way to your desk.

“GPS exists, but I have a hunch,” you say as you grab your jacket. Unfortunately, that hunch is more a hunch that your relationship is getting threatened by your work.

(“A hunch. Yeah, right, you’ve probably been there.”

“Careful what you say there, kiddo.”

“I’m older than you!”

“And yet, I’m driving.”)

[09.53] twh name? and what might that be?

[11.16] you i didnt get one but one of my guys is questioning him smth i bought you

[11.17] twh ill figure it out, and that has to be my wristband. how?

[11.17] you you tell me

Mackie nudges your arm with his elbow as you make it inside the bar. It’s mostly deserted, highly unlike the life that was there the last time you set foot in the place. A man sits in the booth in the back sipping what looks like whiskey based on the glass and the brown liquid inside. By the entrance, a woman and a man sit across each other at a table. Each of them have a beer, though only the man looks to have touched his, and the woman doesn’t look too happy with him.

However, you turn your attention to the bar, and the bartender behind the counter. Fortunately, he’s not the same one that was here when you were. Making your way over, you note the exits (the one you came in through, a backdoor in the kitchen, and―one you noted the first time you were there―the window in the ladies’ room). You also note the man sitting at the edge of the bar counter, back hunched over and an old fashioned placed in front of him. Untouched.

“How can I help you?” asks the man behind the counter. A bushy beard covers his chin, ruffled brown hair the top of his head, and tattoos cover his upper arm, visible where his t-shirt sleeve ends. In his hands he holds a cleaning towel and a glass, but as you sit down, he slings the towel over his shoulder and puts the glass down. “Guessing beer for you, sir, and maybe a scotch on the rocks for the lady?”

You shake your head, and roll your eyes at Mackie’s almost nod. You’re at work, you’re not gonna drink. “Sorry, mister, but we’re here on other business.” You pull out your badge and give him a peek.

The bartender’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t know. You could've fooled me.” He holds out a hand. “I’m Tom Hardy, co-owner of this shithole.”

“Shithole?” Mackie eyes the man.

“Can’t say there’s a lot of good going on in here, really. Nothin’ illegal, though.” Hardy winks at Mackie and you roll your eyes. The last thing you care about is the tiny illegal things going on at the bar. “What can I help you with? There’s not been any complaints, right?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Relax, man, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re looking for information on a man, also named Tom, but with a different last name. Hiddleston, heard of him?”

The scoff Tom Hardy comes with is barely audible, but you catch it and cock your head to the side.

“Who hasn’t heard of Tom Hiddleston? Supposedly a big mafia boss, but the police has got nothing on him.”

“We got word he frequents this bar. That true?”

Hardy nods. “He’s by at least once a week, sometimes more.”

You try to drown the ache that falls over your heart knowing he still comes by. “You know what he’s here for?”

The bartender shrugs. “Don’t get into that shit, but I know he has a deal with my co-owner, Luke Evans.”

Mackie pulls out a pad and a pen and writes down the name. “Hiddleston ever leave here with a girl in the last few months?”

Hardy shakes his head. “Nah, leaves with the same men, though he has gotten different. Before he used to indulge a little more with the women, but now he seems to not want to. They want him, though.”

The ache fades a little at that. He’s loyal, he’s trustworthy, he’s yours. “Did he use to leave with girls before?” you ask.

“Dunno. He’s usually here when Luke works, only some shifts we got together.” Hardy shrugs. “Though the times I have been here, he’s never left with a girl. He’s followed some into the bathroom, but never left with one. Gotta be some special girl for him to leave with her.”

You suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Thank you, mister Hardy. Could you get us in touch with your co-owner? We wanna have a little chat with him, too.”

“He works tonight. Sorry, can’t give you anymore.” The man picks up a glass again. “But if we’re done here, you’re gonna have me excused. I have a job to do.”

“Thanks for the cooperation,” says Mackie and pushes away from the counter. “We might come back for more.”

You say a small goodbye as you follow after your coworker. On the way to the door, your eyes stray to the man in the back of the bar. Something about him seems off, and even more so when he holds up his glass and tips it your way with a slight hint of a ‘cheers’. The creepy smirk that places itself on his face sparks no comfort, and you let out a sigh as you walk through the door Mackie holds open for you.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“Got a weird feeling from one of the dudes in the bar. Might be nothing, might be something.�� You shake your head, slowly, as your thoughts whirr around in your head. “Doesn’t matter. If he’s here tonight, I might check into it, but it’s probably nothing.”

Mackie shrugs. “We didn’t really get that much here either, though. Hope Evans got better luck.”

“Yeah, gotta hope. But I have a feeling our source might’ve changed his mind on talking.” You open the car door and get in, Mackie following your lead. “I have a feeling Evans might not have been very lucky.”

“You thinkin’ we might end up with… homicide?”

You shrug. “Can’t be sure, but wouldn’t be surprising. Don’t believe we’re gonna be able to connect it to Hiddelston, though.” You start the engine and pull out on the road. “Don’t believe we’re gonna have any connection other than the guy’s snitching.”

“Good enough to talk to him.”

“Good enough to blow what we have if we do.”

The police station became a place of chaos in a matter of seconds. One moment, you’re talking to Evans on what he could find (the source had disappeared without a trace), and the next, it’s like the station is on fire.

Evans, Mackie and yourself are out of the loop. You lean against your desk, your coworkers leaning against the neighboring ones, and look at the chaos erupted around you. People run from one place to another, screaming for help or otherwise.

Then silence consumes the crowd as someone turns up the sound of the TV in the background. You turn to see the screen. On it, there’s a picture of a fire and countless dead bodies, burnt crisps until there is nothing recognizable left to see.

“In just a few minutes the house, that belongs to the infamous crime boss Tom Hiddleston, went up in flames. Whether the man himself was in the house or not, we do not know. Police have yet to arrive at the scene, and the firemen are doing their best to put out the blazing fire. So far, we have no witnesses and no way of knowing what caused it. We’ll be back soon with more updates.”

You lock eyes with Evans and Mackie.

“Our source was in that fire, wasn’t he?” Mackie makes a grimace, and then shakes his head and throws his hands up in the air. “You called it. You fucking called it.”

“I didn’t want to call it.” You shake your head. “And we’re not the force to go out there either, so we’re gonna need someone to talk to Hiddleston about this, about his source, without it being suspicious.”

Evans gets up from his place. “I’ll ask Sebastian.”

“That buddy of yours?” you ask.

“This is the kind of case he gets called out on.”

“Go ahe―”

“Y/L/N!” You’re cut off by the sound of your captain yelling your name. “You’re going out with the team. Take one of the boys. Don’t alert Hiddleston, but he’ll know why you’re there.”

“You got it, sir.” You turn to Mackie and Evans. “Looks like we got some luck after all. Which one of you wanna join me?”

When you pull up to the scene, the fire has been put out. But the fire that is the press and the countless people that’ve decided this is something they need to see live, that has yet to be handled.

You and Evans walk up to the police barricade tape and shove it aside. An office tries to stop you, but you easily walk past after a flash of your badge. The head officer on the case is easily recognizable where he commands what looks like some junior officers.

“What’s the deal?” you ask.

He turns to you, and there you find Evans’s and Mackie’s friend, Sebastian Stan. He smiles at the two of you. “Got five casualties, one critically hurt on his way to the hospital. Medics think his fate’s been sealed. Other than that the fire’s been put out, and the owner of the house arrived about five minutes ago.” Sebastian points to a male figure pacing up and down the sidewalk. “Don’t know if I’d wanna talk to him though.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “We haven’t got much choice.” You’re about to walk from the officer, but you have one last question. “You got any identities on who died?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, and so far it seems the fire was an accident. No fuel used of any kind, nothing weird about the source, and the six that were in the house weren’t close to it. Three of them were asleep.”

“Didn’t the house have a smoke alarm?” asks Evans.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nope. And you’re not gonna believe what they, as of now, believe to be the source.”

“What?”

“A hair dryer. Wasn’t turned off.”

You frown. “A hair dryer? Nothing else? It’s a pretty big house. Seems like a long shot.”

Sebastian shrugs. “So far we’ve ruled out arson, and seeing how annoyed the owner is over there, safe to say he wasn’t planning on burning his house down.”

Don’t say that. He wouldn’t care, seeing as that isn’t the house he uses mostly―that’s just the public one.

Even Evans knows that, and you give him a look as you move away from Sebastian and towards said owner of the house.

“Hiddleston,” you say as you near him.

The man turns around. His expression is curious rather than angry, but something tugs at his lips as his gaze flickers over to Evans. “Miss Y/L/N, what do I owe the lovely pleasure?”

“Your house burned down. Five of your men dead, and a sixth one just holding on. We’re thinking he’ll die, too, medics said it was critical.” You shrug. “But you already knew that, right?”

Tom smiles, and takes a step closer to you. You have to hold out a hand to stop Evans from coming in between, knowing you have somewhat of a bodyguard in the man. “Darling.” Tom’s hand comes up to cup your cheek and you have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. “How could I know that? No one wants to tell me a bloody thing.” His voice changes fast at the last sentence, the annoyance creeping in.

“Did you set the fire?” asks Evans.

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t mean to ask that. But we would like to know if there are any of your acquaintances missing?”

Tom nods. “There’s one I wanted to talk to. Name’s Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Haven’t been able to contact him since last night, and that’s unusual.”

“You think he was in the fire?”

The male shakes his head. “I don’t believe he was there at all, but I do believe he would do this. I got the impression he isn’t quite happy with me, or my decisions lately.”

He’s the snitch.

“We’ll let you know if he was in the fire.” You use your hand to push Tom’s hand away from your face, his touch lingering a little too long to be a play (but you weren’t going to complain.) “I have one other inquiry.”

“Go on.”

You take a deep breath before the words leave your mouth. He should be prepared, considering you told him what was in the evidence bag, but you can’t be sure. “Any girlfriends or women in your life we should know about?”

He smiles (god, that smile). “Other than you, love?”

Smooth. You can practically hear Evans roll his eyes behind you.

“Yes, other than me.”

“Then no. I have a far too busy life to deal with girlfriends,” he says, and winks, “though you shouldn’t hesitate to contact me.” Tom leans in close, his lips grazing your ear and his hand taking yours―something cold grazes your fingers. “I can give you a night you won’t forget.”

You don’t let the hitch in your breath show, and when he places a kiss to your cheek, you only stare at him as he pulls away (and let your hand find comfort in your jacket pocket where you let go of your keys).. “Don’t leave town, Mister Hiddleston.”

“I won’t, darling.”

And then you walk away together with Evans. He keeps glancing behind him, and the confusion is written on his face.

“Just ask,” you say as you reach the car.

Evans opens the door. “How are you not fazed by that?” he asks.

You get into the car and shrug. “Because I don’t let it. He thinks it’s fun to play with me because I don’t have a reaction―” (ehehe, yeah right) “―I think it’s fun to let him. Eventually, something has to slip and we’ll be able to catch him on the spot.”

“But you gotta allow yourself to be harassed to do so?”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call it harassment, hon. I call it work.”

Evans frowns as you start the engine and pull out of the parking spot. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed? When it comes to sexual harassment, Tom Hiddleston is the least of my worries.”

It’s supposed to be a brief stop; get into your apartment, change into something that doesn’t drag attention at a bar on a Thursday night (probably not going to be too crowded anyways), and get out.

But when you walk in through the door, you see a pair of shoes kicked off in the entrance hall. A coat lies draped over your living-room armchair―a coat easily recognizable.

You hurry to close the door, and kick off your own shoes. The trail of clothes leads you further into the apartment. A dress shirt folded together and placed on the cupboard in your living room. Pants lie discarded on the floor in the doorway to your bedroom. And the man who it belongs to, you find tangled in your sheets, buck naked with the exception of the tie around his neck.

“What do you want?” you ask him, an amused smile plastered on your face as you shake your head.

Tom lifts his head a little. A smirk colors his face and he shrugs. “Thought I could surprise you a little, before I have to get going.” He checks the wristwatch on his arm (which you first now noticed he hasn’t taken off either). “But you’ve used quite a lot of time to get here, and now we barely have time for anything.”

You shake your head, smile gone. “Sorry, babe, but I haven’t got the time.”

“What? You have plans for the evening?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but it still slightly hurts seeing as you barely get out of the apartment when you get time off. Really, six months ago was a chance meeting unlike any other.

“I have work.” You move to open your wardrobe. “But if you want, you can help me figure out what to wear.” You turn your head to cast Tom a glance, eyebrow raised.

He turns a little, enough for the sheet that had covered him to fall off and leave him fully exposed. And with just the tie as a piece of clothing, you have to turn back around. God, what that man can do. You grit your teeth as you open the door and file through the few dresses you own, patiently waiting for his response.

“What is it for?” he asks, and his velvet smooth voice does nothing to ease the growing arousal in your gut, not with the image of him and that tie the only thing on your mind.

You swallow before you reply, but you don’t dare turn around. “Gotta talk to the owner of a bar, and don’t wanna drag attention with people there so we agreed to act less like police. Might have to have a drink or two.” You sigh, and close your eyes. “You should have waited with this until then.”

“What?” His voice is in your ear, warm breath fanning your neck. You bite down on your lower lip, hard. “You don’t like it? You’re not enjoying it?” His hands find the hem of your shirt. Fingers graze up along your skin and you find yourself complying when he makes a move to drag it off.

“Tom,” you whisper. You lean into him, into the fingers tracing along your bra and the way his lips ghost over the skin on your shoulder, up your neck. “I don’t―” You shudder as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Ba― Babe, I don’t have―”

He tips your head back and his lips find yours. Barely touching, you close your eyes, and the image of Tom in bed and you using the tie to drag him to you has you swallow, almost succumbing to the pleasure you know you’ll get. His voice is low when he speaks. “Don’t have what?”

You don’t answer as your hand shoots up to press his head closer to yours, to push your lips together. Everything you can think about is him, your boyfriend, and in a matter of seconds your clothes are off as well, and you sink into the mattress as Tom throws you down on your bed. Your eyes open briefly, to see him study the contours of your body and, even as you do give into Tom and your desire, the haste is still on your mind.

With determination etched into you, you drag him to you with the tie and capture his lips in yours. There is no limit to what this man does to you, and there is no limit to what you let him.

With the already extra time you used with Tom, you didn’t have the time to shower. You’d tried your best to fix your hair and do something extra with your make-up, but Tom didn’t have it in him to let you dress and time was wasted.

Evans and Mackie pick you up outside your apartment complex in Evans’s car. As you approach, the two of them lean against it, deep in conversation. They barely notice you coming, but when they do, both give appreciative looks.

“Looking good,” says Mackie, eyes travelling up and down your body. Evans remains quiet, the way his eyes dance over you the only comment you get (and you have to admit, you’re not really complaining.)

You’d opted for something nice, but nothing too much. A skirt that stops mid-thigh, knee high boots with a thick heel, and a slightly revealing shirt. (You’d also opted for a thigh holster so that you could still bring your gun.

“You’re wearing that.” It’s more a statement than a question from the naked man resting on your bed.

You nod, and glance his way. “Problem?”

Tom’s eyes graze over you, hunger evident in them. “I would certainly like to take it off.”

You lift the hem of your skirt, revealing the thigh holster with your gun. “This too?”

“Yes, and right now.”)

In your hand, you have a clutch and you’re also wearing a coat to keep some warmth in the cool evening air. “Shall we go?” you ask.

And the two men both get off from where they’re leaning against the car. Mackie easily offers up the passenger’s seat to you, even though whenever it's him and Evans fighting over it, it’s first come first serve. You smile a thanks and then you’re on your way.

Evans parks a few blocks away from the bar (his expensive Audi with tinted windows certainly drags some attention), and you use the walk there to go through the course of action.

“Mackie’s the cop-cop. He’ll talk to Luke Evans, try something else. We try to talk to some of the people there. Whether that’s as a cop or not, I don’t really care. All we really need is a lead. If anyone sees any of Hiddleston’s associates, please alert the others.”

The two nod. “Sure, but before we go in there, you have to fix your hair.”

You raise your brow at Mackie. “Excuse me?”

“You got sex hair.” He gives you a ‘sorry’ smile and a shrug. “Like, we’re not judging you for having it, but if you’d told us you had a visitor we would’ve waited to come to give you more time.”

“Fuck.” You shake your head and stop. “One, help me fix my hair. Two, I wasn’t planning on it. I was ambushed.” Something that isn’t really that far fetched, it’s not like you knew Tom would be there when you came home.

Evans stops in front of you and asks with his face if he can help, and you nod. His hands move to brush a little through your hair, and fix a little on what probably stands out.

“How could you get ambushed?” asks Mackie.

You roll your eyes. “I got home, there were some clothes lying around, I followed the trail to a naked man in my bed and seeing as it’s the guy I’m currently seeing it wasn’t a bad sight. I tried to tell him I didn’t have the time, but he can be quite persuasive.”

As you talk, Evans tugs a little harshly on your hair and you let out a pained sound. He apologizes, but continues to try and fix your hair.

Mackie shrugs. “How long have you been seeing him?”

You shrug. “Few months.”

“How many months are a few?” asks Evans, his hands letting go of your hair and an approving smile on his face. He steps away to get Mackie’s blessing and the man nods affirmative.

“Uhh, six.”

Both Mackie and Evans stare wide-eyed at you.

“You’ve been dating a dude for six months and not told anyone?!” If you didn’t know better (and you’re not always sure you do), you’d think there was a layer of accusation in Mackie’s voice, but you don’t believe there is.

You shrug and begin to walk again. “What does it matter? It’s not like there’s a need to know about those things.”

“I thought we were friends.” Mackie shakes his head, a small friendly glare sent your way.

“What made you think that?” you ask, but the same friendly feel to your words as there was to his glare. “But can we let it go? I don’t want to talk about my private life.”

Evans nods. “We’re here anyways.”

And you sure are. You look up to see the blinking neon sign of the bar. The bass from the music drifts to where you stand by the door, and with a quick glance inside, you can see it’s fuller than you expected for there to be another work day of the week left. Though you do notice the age of the people; it's possible the college kids don't have class tomorrow, or don’t care.

The three of you make your way inside, gaining a few glances as you step in, but everyone quickly turns back to their own lives. You give a small sign to the two men you came with and move away from them.

It’s easy to step up to the bar, and you easily recognize the bartender as the one who was there when you met Tom. You’re guessing he’s Luke Evans, and you take a breath before you signal him for a drink. Hopefully, you won’t be recognized.

“What can I get you?” he asks.

“A whiskey, thanks.”

He pushes away from the counter, and easily grabs a glass and a bottle and pours. When he puts it down in front of you, his gaze lingers. “Have I seen you before?”

You shake your head. “Has to be somewhere else than here in that case.”

“First time?”

You nod.

“Recommend not drinking a lot. We get some sleazy people in here.”

“I hear you also get crime bosses. This the place to meet the Tom Hiddleston?”

Luke chuckles. “Hon, if you want to meet Tom Hiddleston, I suggest you start being careful what you wish.” He nods to the back of the bar. “Best luck is sitting down in that reserved booth. It’s his usual.”

You cock your head. “He’s coming here today?”

The bartender nods.

“Ain’t I lucky,” you whisper and smile at him. You easily get away from the counter and make your way to the empty booth in the back.

Sure enough, a sign reading reserved is placed on the table. Who it’s reserved for doesn’t say, nor is there a time stamp. You make for sliding into it, but a hand grasps your wrist and pulls you away.

As you fall into the chest of the stranger, you turn your head. The man who you’d seen earlier today is the one holding you back. Up close, you notice bags under his eyes and he reeks of alcohol. You pull away from his grip and raise a brow his way.

“I wouldn’t sit down there if I were you,” he says, and slides into the same booth he had earlier.

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “Tom Hiddleston isn’t a man to mess with.”

“And how do you know so much about Tom Hiddleston?”

The man pats the seat next to him. “Sit and I’ll tell you.”

You hesitate, but eventually slide in. You leave room between yourself and the stranger. If anything were to happen, you do have a gun.

“You got any relation to Hiddleston?” you ask (you have to admit, no matter how much you want your boyfriend not to be caught, you wish you knew more about what he did do).

“Name’s Aaron.” The snitch.

You motion for him to go on.

“I was hired by him three months ago. He felt the cops were gaining and wanted something, or someone to try and put a stopper to it.”

“So, Tom Hiddleston hired you to snitch on the cops?” You want to laugh, seeing as you snitch enough for Tom to never know exactly what you know, but enough to cover his tracks.

Aaron shakes his head. “He hired me to snitch on a cop. A specific one.”

You frown, sure if he was hired to snitch on you you’d know and he would have recognized you. Perhaps he had.

“The cop’s here today.” Aaron’s gaze travels into the crowd of people in the bar. You see where he looks. Evans. “His name is Chris Evans.”

“Why did he want you to spy on him?”

Aaron shrugs. “He never said. And eventually, I got sick of it. The guy’s obviously not a threat to Hiddleston and his business. Y/N Y/L/N is, but it’s impossible to find out anything about her. Don’t even know what she looks like.”

You try not to let it show that you flinched at the mention of your own name. And you find it weird that he can’t find anything on you. Tom did so, easily. But there’s no need to dwell on that. You glance at Aaron again, unsure how to ask.

“You say you got sick of it. What did you do? Just stop doing his bidding, or something else?”

A smile colors Aaron’s face. “Snitched to the cops. Left a message. Anonymous, but I gave them a way to contact me for more information.” He shakes his head. “Got contacted today, but never replied. But I saw you here this morning, talking to the bartender.”

You cock your head. That could be an easy way to draw the connection to you as a cop, not necessarily as Y/N Y/L/N, but you had been seen with Mackie, and usually Mackie and Evans were seen with each other.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says. “One that means getting close to Hiddleston, and that includes spying on him. Mics, cameras, whatever. I need him in jail.”

“I’m gonna have to say no. I was just hoping for a night, a friend of mine told me he was real good in bed.” You shrug. “But if you have angered him, I got told by the bartender that Hiddleston comes in today.”

Aaron smiles. “You’ll have to excuse me, then. I hope you don’t anger him with only the intention of a one night stand. Based on how you look, I’m pretty sure you’re his type.” The male slides out of the booth, downs his drink in one go, and waves goodbye. You watch as he moves to the restrooms, and you roll your eyes when he winks.

[10.47] you snitch is alive, in the restrooms hiddlestons supposed to come in today

[10.48] evans no snitch in the restrooms, window’s open tho guessing it was the guy that slipped past me just now

[10.48] you guess so mackie u got anything from the bartender

[10.50] mackie that hiddlestons coming in that their deal is just renting of the venue from time to time

[10.50] you well just have to do the best of it then im sitting in his booth so if he comes hell notice

[10.51] evans sure thats a good idea??

[10.51] you would very much like to know why he put someone to spy on you evans snitch was hired to keep tabs, got annoyed he wasnt keeping tabs on me

[10.51] mackie dam i wanna know that too be careful

You look up and meet the gazes of your coworkers. Evans looks uncomfortable, worried almost, judging by the crease between his brows. Mackie gives you a look of understanding and a pair of thumbs up.

You down your drink, try to cover the hiss as pain sears down your throat, and make to sit down in Tom’s booth. On the way in, you knock over the reserved sign, making it fall to the floor. Now, it’ll look like you didn’t know.

[10.57] mackie Incoming

The front door opens slowly. Heads turn to look who comes through, and unlike when you arrived with Mackie and Evans, everyone’s eyes stay on the man who weaves his way through the crowd.

Tom stops by the bar, has a small chat with the bartender and turns his head to look your way. A smirk grazes his lips as your eyes lock, but he quickly turns back to the man he was talking to.

You swallow. You have to steady your beating heart, have to shove the thought of the night’s previous events to the back of your mind, and kill the deep swirling feeling in your gut at the sight of Tom in that blue fucking suit. God, if there was something Tom Hiddleston was made to do it’s wearing suits.

The blue color suits his very being. It’s tailored to fit him perfectly; long legs encased in blue fabric that shows off his bum, suit jacket that fits his shoulders and back in a way that has you swallow. You can see his broad shoulders and some of the tightness that drags at his muscled arms. What you can’t wait to see, is how well the shirt underneath fits him. You simply can’t wait for him to pull off the jacket.

Thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long. With two drinks in hand he makes his way up to where you sit. He doesn’t say anything as he places them on the table, nor does he say anything when he pulls up the reserved sign from where it lies on the floor. He places it back on the table, eyes you warily, and sides into the booth.

Long arms grasp for the drinks. He pulls them in and pushes one to you. “Can you drink, darling? You’re working, right?”

You take the glass and swirl the liquid around inside it. “I can, actually.” And you take a sip. “But I won’t drink a lot.”

Tom moves closer to you, knocking his thigh against yours. You take a deep breath at the touch, the only one you can return―Tom flirting with you whilst you work is no news, but it would be quite different if you did the same. “Have you been waiting long, darling?”

“No, I haven’t. I managed to preoccupy myself.”

“Oh, can I hear?”

You shake your head. “What good would you have of that?” you ask. When you get a shrug in return, you roll your eyes and take another sip of the whiskey. “I have a question for you, though.”

Tom cocks a brow.

“Why did you need someone to spy on Evans?”

Your heart beats fast as Tom moves even closer, lips coming up to ghost across your cheek. You can see that the two in the crowd of people keeping a close eye on you flinch, but you don’t make a gesture to show any discomfort. “Have you not noticed, love?”

You push him away by placing a hand on his chest. “Noticed what?” You try to pull your hand back but Tom places his over yours and keeps your touch on him. A small hint of the love he usually offers you shows through the blue of his eyes.

“The man likes you, darling. A little too much. Can’t have another man try anything with my woman.” Tom’s gaze flickers out to the crowd, and as you follow it, you see how it lands on Evans and how your coworker squirms. “Now, if only I could show him.”

“Tom,” you say, voice bordering on affectionate. His eyes flicker to you in surprise; he’s only ever been Hiddleston in public. “There’s nothing to worry about, and if you try anything, anything at all, you will have a gun to your head.”

Tom chuckles. “Are you threatening me?”

“You know where the gun is.” And the hand that travels up and under your skirt, grazing by the thigh holster, has you swallow. You take a deep breath as his hand travels a little further, and the only way to stop him is to grab his hand. “I didn’t say you could check.” You push at him a little, creating more distance between you two (even though you would like to sit close to him).

“I didn’t think I needed permission, love.” He smirks and you shake your head.

You smile innocently at him. “Usually you don’t.” You go to slide out of the booth. “Bye, Hiddleston.”

Tom grabs your arm and pulls you back to his chest. “Have you really made that big a dent in the case of the Blue Sweater?” he whispers in your ear. You writhe in his grasp, but a firm hand turns your head to him and his face draws closer to yours. “Tell me what I need to do to have the lead again, darling. I’ll do anything.”

And you can’t stop the sound of surprise that escapes you when Tom presses a chaste kiss to your lips. The surprise is so big you only stare wide-eyed at him, not able to kiss him back (and good is that seeing as you’re in public), and when he pulls back, you push away from him and shake your head.

“You’re an idiot,” you say (no teasing or play in your voice), and then you walk away. You rush out of the bar, feel Evans’s and Mackie’s eyes on you, and when you get out of the front door you lean against the wall. Your heart hammers in your chest. You’re panting, and you can feel the rush of adrenaline making its way through your body.

You may like to play with fire, letting him flirt and show affection in public, but you wouldn’t ever go this far. You wouldn’t ever think he’d even risk it.

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from next to you. Evans and Mackie have made it outside, and you push off the wall to start walking to the car.

“We’re not talking about it,” you say.

Neither of them make a move to say more, and you can hear them follow after you. Tom might be the worst person in history to be in a secret relationship with. Or maybe the best. You haven’t decided yet.

It’s no surprise to see the people surrounding your desk when you get to work. Your two usual pests sit at their own, and though not a part of the group waiting for you, they shoot you glances as you sit down.

You try not to glare at the group, but when they all just quietly stare at you, the anger bubbles. “What?” you ask.

A small murmur goes through them, until your impatient glare becomes too much and one voice squeaks out, “did Tom Hiddleston kiss you?”

He has more than once, you think.

You don’t reply, only giving them an unamused look in return. They quickly scatter, and you can hear the chatter that bubbles up amongst them.

Not only do you not have the patience for stupid pestering (and annoyance at Evans and Mackie for spreading the word), but your morning was the worst in a while. It’s almost become a usual for Tom to sleep over, whether because he falls asleep after sex or if he just wants to cuddle, but when you came home yesterday, there was no Tom.

And no Tom means no morning cuddles, or a goodbye kiss as you leave out the door. On top of that, he hasn’t texted either. No saying why he didn’t show. No explaining why he risked a kiss in public.

A text you did get in the morning, was a journalist asking for an interview. Especially interesting was the lack of respect for an ongoing investigation, and the bold way to ask whether or not you were secretly helping Tom not get caught (you want to know how they would even guess it. That’s a pretty bold assumption to make about the lead detective on a case).

Tired, you rest your elbow on the desk and lay your head in your hand. You massage your forehead slightly, and there’s no mistaking the groan that leaves your lips as your thoughts swirl.

A knock on your desk pulls you out of it. You look up to see Mackie leaning against it. “You okay?” he asks.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta talk about what information we got, though. But I don’t trust… I don’t want to talk out here, so, briefing room in five minutes. I don’t know if Evans heard, but make sure he did.”

Mackie scrunches his nose slightly and presses his lips together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Briefing room’s occupied.”

You curse under your breath and shake your head. “We got a meeting room, that occupied?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Not that I know.”

“We’ll meet there.” And as he gives you a thumbs up, you get up from your desk and move to the captain’s office. With a knock and a mumbled ‘come in’ you walk into the room and close the door behind you.

Cheadle looks up at you. “I heard what happened.”

You nod. “Yeah, but there’s something else I’m here about.”

He quirks a brow. “Oh? Important?”

You pull out your phone, ignore the new message you’ve gotten and find the text from the journalist. You hand the captain your phone. “Got this this morning. I want to know how they got my number, what made them think I’m colluding with the guy I’m trying to catch, and what the hell made them believe I’d ever talk to a news source about an open investigation.”

“That is weird.” Captain Cheadle hands you back your phone (just in time, too, because a message chimes in from twh). “When you have time, come back in here. I know you’re gonna talk to the guys now, but I’d like for it to be soon. And check if they haven’t gotten the same one.”

“Yes, sir.” You sigh and walk out again. You head for the meeting room and on your way you pull open your text thread with Tom.

[08.18] twh darling we need to talk i think i have some information you’d like to have

[08.23] you gonna talk about smth else too or just your problem??

[08.23] twh im sorry, darling, i got caught up in work we can talk about both tell me when you have time and ill show up at your flat

[08.23] you tonight, 8

The reply goes by you as you open the door to the meeting room. Evans and Mackie already sit down, Evans with papers in front of him and Mackie with his phone out on the table. You frown, but sit down across from them.

“I don’t know who wants to start.” You look between the two men, and when neither say anything, you shrug. “Guess I’ll go then.” You take a deep breath. “Our snitch’s name is Aaron Taylor-Johnson, the man Hiddleston mentioned yesterday when we questioned him about the fire. He isn’t dead because he was in the bar. He says he was hired a few months ago to keep tabs on Evans, but he got sick of it because, according to him, you’re not the threat. On the other hand, I am, but he didn’t know he was talking to me.”

“Did you find out why Hiddleston got him to spy on Evans?” asks Mackie.

You shake your head. “Hiddleston didn’t answer that. Snitch didn’t know himself, but he said he tried to keep tabs on me, too, only he couldn’t. He didn’t have anything to go on, no information, no way to know what I look like. And I find that interesting. Why would Hiddleston go out of his way to make sure they couldn’t do anything to make me a culprit or anything?”

“Maybe because Hiddleston has the biggest crush on you?” asks Evans, and there’s no mistaking the hint of spite in his voice as he says so. “Or, he finds you that big enough a threat he can’t have his guys going around doing stuff to hinder you because you’re smart enough to be able to connect it to him?”

“I hope the last,” you mumble. “But there was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. He seemed to know more than he let on, but I couldn’t push like I usually do because then he’d know. I want to see if we can contact him again, because he knew we tried yesterday without luck.”

“We’ll try, but I don’t think we’re gonna get much either.” Evans nods, and all three of you let out sighs.

You motion for them to start talking instead. Evans slides you a piece of paper. Not much is on it, but the words are clear. You look up at him.

“There were some regulars there that have witnessed Hiddleston many times. The man I talked to said that.” Evans coughs. “‘He’s always alone, at least when he sits, but he leaves with men. Never has a girl around him unless they come up to him, hasn’t had one in a long time. Only once did he leave with one. She was pretty, looked rather intimidating, actually. Don’t think it lasted.’ The man also went on to ramble about how after that, Hiddleston hasn’t been seen with a girl. Well, before you.”

“So he has left with a girl once.” Mackie confirms. “Luke Evans said the same thing. A pretty little thing that edged in on the man unlike no one he’d seen before, and that surprisingly got to leave with him. He’s never seen the woman again, and he found that odd. He doesn’t believe Hiddleston’s got someone in his life, though.”

You bite your lower lip. “Well, that is something. Any descriptions?”

Both shake their heads.

“There is one thing I noted, though,” says Mackie. “If Hiddleston does have someone he likes, is with, whatever. He so openly flirts with you that that woman has got to be furious, and he probably wouldn’t have kissed you either. I think the wristband was sent to him, not from him.”

You nod. “I believe you’re right there.” You know he’s right, but that’s details you’re not sharing. “But I have something more interesting.” You fish your phone out of your pocket (ignore the new messages from Tom) and open up the one you got this morning.

“What’s going on?” asks Evans as you place your phone in front of them on the table. They read over the text and cast eyes up to you. Something in the look both send, they’ve seen something similar before.

“Got it this morning.” You snatch your phone back, seeing the almost pop-up about a new text and not risking who it’s from. “I need to know who believes I’m colluding with the enemy.”

Mackie nods as he opens up his own phone and slides it across to you. “We got the same text, though slightly altered. They’re asking if we know anything about you colluding with Hiddleston.”

[06.53] unkown Hi, I’m a reporter from New York Times. I was wondering if there would be released more information pertaining to the Hiddleston case, and what you know about Hiddleston and Detective Y/L/N’s relationship to the man. I heard last night that they kissed, and maybe the reason you haven’t caught him yet is something entirely else than him being good at what he does.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. You slide Mackie’s phone back to him and let out a loud sigh.

Things are not looking very bright.

A/N: thats what i have. if you want to, reblog this with a continuation, but please dont steal any of this and act like it’s your own. i worked a lot on this when i still had motivaton but i wanted to at least share it even if i wont finish it, to which im deeply sorry

would always want to know what you guys think...

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #twh #thomas william hiddleston #reader insert #x reader #unfinished #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine

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starkeaton · 4 years ago

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the adventure zone: graduation character list

Well, i accidentally deleted the original graduation character list post, so here i am making another one. Oops. And as always, if anyone has important details i should add then feel free to suggest them!

Here are all the characters introduced in episodes 1-25. Named characters only!

Also i can’t hide spoilers! So, um..... I can’t put spoilers on this one. If you need the version with spoilers try this version of the post that i made on the adventure zone subreddit but youre not missing out on much.

# -EPISODE 1- (19 characters)

Hieronymous Wiggenstaff (he/him): Head of the Hero/Villain school. at least 400 years old. wears shining blue armor with gold accents. also an elf. according to Tomas, he led the charge at the "battle of blood valley", brought the Kingdoms of Rickart and Dawnbreak to a peace treaty, and founded the school. a little boastful, a little prideful, [SPOILERS OMITTED], and overall a pretty good dude.

Higglemas Wiggenstaff (he/him): Head of the Sidekick/Henchperson annex, cranky old elf. has a dog named hero who shows no signs of anything strange at all, ever.

Gary (he/him): friendly room gargoyle. pseudo-hivemind.

Groundsy (he/him): the groundskeeper. a pretty nice fellow. don't go in his shed.

Hernandez (he/him): beautiful centaur professor of animal handling.

Jimson (he/him): human battlegrounds trainer for sidekicks/henchpeople, world famous featherweight champion, wields a staff. married to crushman.

Crushman (he/him): silver dragonborn with a sickle, and self-described beefy boy! heavyweight blood champion married to jimson. never lost a match for 8 years. full name Frostus Crushman.

Rolandus Fontaine (he/him): former prince, son of deposed king, kind of an asshole, maybe. wears a cape (important detail)

Zana (she/her): "terrifying" tiefling villain sorcerer, friend of rolandus. barkept the test tavern in ep2

Rhodes (she/her): hero ranger, friend of rolandus.

Buckminster Eden (he/him): hero guy. son of "The Iron Lord". their dad is stronger than rolandus's dad. his wiki page says rogue so i think hes a rogue? i never caught that and ive listened more times than i wish i did

Leon (he/him): softspoken buff, bald "fighter" (although i dont remember any clarification on how exactly he fights), sidekick of buckminster, around 28. anyone else keep forgetting he's bald? i keep forgetting it. >!gets sorta-drafted into becoming a falcon for higglemas and so far hasn't done much else.!<

Rainer Michelle (she/her): cheerful villainous necromancer with a floating chair. also, her name is pronounced "rainier" despite not being confirmed as such? travis ships her with fitzroy.

Tomas (he/him): human man with "kind eyes" and a good (psychic???) memory. guidance counselor.

Stewart LeBoeuf (he/him): brawny human man. serves food. there is no joke here, i promise

Mulligan (he/him): teaches potions. mentioned but doesn't appear yet. and we're like 25 episodes in. maybe we'll see him someday

Germaine, Victoria, Rattles (he/him,she/her,???/???): Skeleton crew. They live in the training room i guess, and as a result can never die, because "no one dies in the training room!" (note: someone now HAS to die in the training room). also their races are never explicitly stated but i guess they're probably human? in episode 3 travis brings up something about how many bones are in "the human body" and at this point i think i'm looking too deep into this so i'll just forget about it and you probably should too.

# -EPISODE 2- (9 characters)

Riveau (he/him): halfling, blame-taking teacher.

Mimi (they/them): gnome sidekick who builds cool robot prosthetics

Bartholemus (he/him): owl aarakocra accountant teacher, known for being the best accountant in the land and having a face some might describe as "smoochable". very pro capitalist :’( hope he gets better

Ramos (she/her): goliath teacher of shieldwork. *

Dip (she/her): sidekick, half-orc twin of pip

Pip (she/her): hero, half-orc twin of dip

Festo (they/them): fairy with "beautiful gossamer wings", independent study teacher of magic, loves to party

Snippers (he/him?): Let me tell you my story about Snippers the magic crab. When Travis gave the list of animals that Griffin could choose as Fitzroy's familiar's current form, he listed crab near the start, and this gave me excitement. Now i knew that crab was pretty unlikely but god i hoped that he would choose it. When the list went on- Bat, Cat, Crab, Frog, Hawk, Lizard, Owl, Poisonous Snake, Fish, Rat, Raven, Seahorse, Spider or Weasel- I nearly lost hope. I was hoping so hard that Griffin would choose the crab, but i was ready to accept a non-crab familiar. It was just buried in that list. It wasn't the most useful animal and it was an obscure pick. And as Travis informed him that it didn't have to keep the form for the whole campaign, Griffin said those five words i wanted to hear so, so badly. "Well then it's a crab." Folks, I do not often react physically when something happens in media. But in that moment, i remember very clearly, i fist-pumped and yelled, "YES!!!!!!"

so anyway, Fitzroy has a crab.

Jackle (he/him): kenku teacher of sneakery. creepy dude. apparently knows something about argo? also his name is not spelled "jackal" for some reason. Also in later episodes theyve started calling him "The Jackle" for some reason??? *

# -EPISODE 3- (1 character)

Dakota (they/them): tavern instructor, clad in black/red leather. no race stated? probably human. *

# -EPISODE 4- (6 characters)

Gerry & Tom (she/her, he/him): shopkeepers at barns and nobles who seem to have very bad names. also constantly competing for customers? these guys got dropped faster than the heathcliff quests, which is honestly just sad.

Barb (she/her): the bartender. runs Springs Eternal in Last Hope. has a sweet seeing-eye hawk familiar.

Jaryd Reginald (he/him): owner of Reginald Ore. Wants the workers to be held responsible for the damage caused by the xorn. (fun fact: originally i wrote down "Jerrod" because i wanted it to sound like a fantasy name, then realized it was probably "Jared" because theyre named after listeners, but i was pleased to find it confirmed that it's actually "Jaryd")

Candice (she/her): A Miner. thought those werent allowed in bars but, i guess not. Wants the mine owner to be held responsible for the xorn's damage.

Jade Johnson Esq. (she/her): lawyer.

# -EPISODE 5- (1 character)

Xorn: a big hungry gem eating guy from the plane of earth Low-Down Deep with 3 arms and 3 legs. why did travis just say "multi-armed" instead of specifying it was 3? who knows! Anyway it leaves

# -EPISODE 6- (3 characters)

Osric (he/him): the man, the myth, the bursar. finally shows up after being mentioned in episodes 2 and 4. he's an elf.

breeze through the willows (she/her): Pegasus attacked by demons, lost her parents. introduced in ep1 but gets a name here so fuck it. also in ep>!16!< we find out shes a "white arabian pegasus" and i dont think thats a spoiler bc we shouldve really known it from the beginning

Sabor (he/him): Librarian/research teacher. also a TORTLE. Really good at recalling stuff, i guess. kinda reminds me of Tomas's memory thing but i'm sure that's just a coincidence... *

# -EPISODE 7- (1 character)

Mosh (he/him): The goliath blacksmith who welcomes argo into the unbroken chain. Also, and this is specific to the tumblr version of this post, all the characters with an * at the end of their descriptions are also members of the unbroken chain. if someone knows how to do spoilers on tumblr please tell me

# -EPISODE 8-

# -EPISODE 9- (2 characters)

Eeiïäá#æ&éñn (pronounced like "Ian") (he/him?): an imp but without a shitty voice. also happens to not be violent. what a coincidence?

Terence (he/him): a chain devil with a real demonic name. minor boss of the imps. very convincing and very threatening. has the frightening ability to make you zone out during his fight

# -EPISODE 10- (2 characters)

Althea Song (she/her): elf with autumn-orange hair. representative from heroic oversight guild. i'd like to personally thank travis for spelling her name out.

Crabtree (she/her): Artificing teacher. Long gray hair with a long grey beard. no mentioned race, one might guess dwarf but that would be an assumption i suppose. also unbroken chain member, presumably the dwarf argo didn't recognize in episode 7.

# -EPISODE 11- (3 characters)

Marie (she/her): Grey-haired elf woman. She's the school's physician, i guess. Member of the unbroken chain.

Dendra Maplecourt (she/her): Fitzroy's mom. Has hot mint gum, i guess. She was mentioned earlier but i wasn't convinced she was a real person until this episode

Cool Gary (he/him): AYY ITS ME GARYR

# -EPISODE 12-

no new characters again!

# -EPISODE 13- (7 characters hhhyyyuu)

Kale (???/???): Head of the Placement Department, in charge of real world assignments. First mentioned in Ep4 but i missed that the last few times bc it is so brief. Gives exposition about missions i guess????? is that the only reason this chara cter exists

satyr thief (unnamed) (he/him): tries to rob thundermen, dies instantly

Ogre (he/him): teamed up with the satyr. his name is ogre.

Moon (he/him): A Sidekick. small pale sullen guy. no mentioned race. Why is there another FUCKING sidekick WE HAD ENOUGH hhhyuuuuuu

Deanna (she/her): A bigoted centaur with an obnoxious voice. Malwin the Strong's second in command.

Malwin the Strong (she/her): Leader of the centaurs of the scarlet woods. Wants to appease the spirit of the scarlet woods so that thecentaurs of the scarlet woods will be protected in the scarlet woods. Had a relationship with Arturas in the past but their clashes are currently known to get pretty heated.

Arturas (he/him): Leader of the Centaurs of the Valley, i guess. Had a relationship with Malwin. Centaur. Did i mention centaur? i cant think of anything else about this character

# -EPISODE 14- (2 characters)

Calhain (he/him): Human wizard, Malwin's magical advisor. Kind of an amateur wizard in a job high above his skill level. Graduated Wigginstaff's as a hero.

Spirit of the Scarlet Woods: A spirit who requires sacrifice in order to keep Malwin's herd safe and prosperous. Not keen on dubiously canonical combos, i guess. i wouldnt be either. also apparently the sacrifice depends on personal value, not how much value it has to the spirit.

# -EPISODE 15- (2 characters)

Sylvia Nite (she/her): Fitzroy's magic theory teacher at knight night school, who he turned into a catfish by accident. oops!

Chaos (they/them, maybe more): Presumably a deity, gave Fitz his powers and wants him to give in to his chaotic desires. (physical desc: 9 foot tall, iridescent 'mother of pearl' skin, pure white eyes, fine burgundy cloak with gold/onyx lining. their physical form beyond that seems to change every time they show up.)

# -EPISODE 16-

none -w-

# -EPISODE 17-

some demins happened. the big dudes are called "Pit Fiends" and the armored demon ladies are called "Erinyes", by the way. that was incredibly hard for me to figure out the first time, especially without headphones, i thought travis was saying "pig feet" and i just could not discern what the other things were

# -EPISODE 18- (6 characters)

snow on the mountain: shire horse pegasus

storm at sea: peruvian paso pegasus, vehement defender of The Guardian. doesn't have a goofy voice.. but he could have....

thaw of the spring: a winged horse

night of no clouds: a winged hhorse

The Guardian: "An ancient and powerful being that guards the unknown forest." Has protected the flock from demons for many many years. apparently is the voice that was talking to our firbolg in episode 1?

Grey, the Demon Prince (he/him): wants to cause a war, originally wanted to kill hiero and higgs, forces the heroes to build an army to fight his. As "Fauxronimous", he has skin the *color and pattern of* (but not necessarily made of) slate splashed with liquid, pointed ears, sharp teeth, shining eyes, horns of unspecified shape. 12 fucking feet tall. wonder if the slate-looking skin is related to garys. plot twist detected? Also i recently looked at the episode descriptions and found out his name is spelled "Gray", but really does it truly matter?

# -EPISODE 19- (2 characters)

Shabree Keene (she/her): Argo's mom, killed on the Mariah, possibly by the Commodore. Long auburn hair, green eyes. Mentioned earlier but described here, so fuck it.

**Thomas** (he/him): Argo's first mate on the Mariah, as the Kraken, in his chaos-dream. may or may not actually exist.

# -EPISODE 20- (1 character)

The Commodore (he/him): Reknowned hero of the seas, military regalia, great naval hero, presumably responsible for the death of Shabree Keene. No mentioned race. Seriously, they never mention this guy's race. The only thing described about him is how he's dressed and his evil smile. Does that mean he's human? Elf? Dwarf??? Who knows! maybe it just doesnt matter.

# -EPISODE 21-

none

# -EPISODE 22-

not any of them. not any.

# -EPISODE 23- (1 character)

Ozymondelius (sp???) (it/its): A warforged teacher who just so happens to like war or something? i guess its in the name. only mentioned in this episode, doesnt show up yet.

# -EPISODE 24-

they have a fight in the training room but nobody dies :\\ maybe next time. also no new characters. pog

# -EPISODE 25- (4 characters)

Gherkin (he/him): Tall lankier skeleton, has a scimitar and a merkin, which is a pubic wig... and he wears a jerkin? which i guess is a kind of coat? also i think hes mute

Tibia (she/her?) : Shorter skeleton with gold teeth, and long canines. i think both of the skeletons are mute actually.

The Lich King aka Gordy (he/him): Rainer's dad. Commands armies of the undead. lives in The Crypt. described as a hooded, skull-faced man with intricate black lines on his face, but changes to a shaved-head man with dark skin and vetiligo. Abandoned as a babby, raised by traveling parents, had necromancy powers, took Rainier in. Not actually very scary at all i don't know why he did the creepy laugh. Kind of a warm fatherly figure actually. hm. also people are speculating Gordy might be short for Gordita and his parents are maybe supposed to be lup and barry but THAT S JUST A THEORY.

our firbolg's father (he/him): A firbolg who lived by the code and was there when our firbolg was banished. Came to respect our firbolg's interest in a new way of life, in his final moments.

TOTAL: 72 NPCS! (well, including 2 extra PCs, i guess.)

Average: 2.88 NPCs per episode.

i was gonna not include the bone-PCs and have it be 69 but our firbolg's dad was just too important to not respect with a spot on the list.

anyway as always make sure to smack me with a blunt object if i forgot any characters!!!!!

#the adventure zone #taz #taz: graduation #taz g #sir fitzroy maplecourt #argonaut keene #taz firbolg #i dunno what else to tag this with #text post #keatposting

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alannah-corvaine · 4 years ago

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the big ‘so you’ve found my blog’ post;

So. The follow button has led you to me, and now here you are with me on your dash. I assume you’re here for one to three reasons: the ffxiv content I post and reblog, my character(s), and/or the aesthetic content. Possibly also my riveting commentary on why ffxiv hasn’t added a sidebraid hairstyle yet. You’re all valid and welcome here.

Maybe you’re curious about me and my OCs, but you don’t want to go digging through my blog and the absolute mess of tags I’ve amassed over the years. I’m here to present a half-assed solution to your curiosity instead of fixing my tags in any sort of meaningful way.

WHO RUNS THIS BLOG?

I’m Alicia, I run this circus.

she/her pronouns, I’m cis.

I’m 31 years old at the time of writing this post.

This blog is 5 going on 6 years old.

If you see @alannahcorvaine that blog is also me but I don’t use it anymore, as it’s a sideblog and I moved over to this blog years ago.

I’ve been playing FFXIV since 2015.

I also play Elder Scrolls Online and World of Warcraft and have separate blogs for related OCs, content, and aesthetics.

I’m a cat person but I also love dogs.

I have a five year old black cat named Kilala who keeps me in line.

I’m not much of a people person, I’m made of anxiety and paperclips.

I yell into the void a lot, the void being my blog.

I don’t really RP outside of spectacularly outstanding circumstances these days, but character and world building are my jam.

Even if I don’t RP, I’m always down for character connections and relationships. I’m totally up for brainstorming and bouncing around headcanons.

Most of the time in game you’ll find me either standing around my house or out in the world taking screenshots. My mailing address is gpose.

I have a full roster of 8 characters on Balmung, but currently only 3 are active. You’ll probably see screenshots of the others too from time to time.

THE OCs

A L A N N A H C O R V A I N E

Your first assumption on seeing my blog name is that it’s probably the name of the titular OC that this blog focuses on. You would be correct. All of my OCs have their own blogs, however I am infinitely lazy and just end up posting screenshots of everyone here because this is where the followers are and the sideblogs end up being used as aesthetic warehouses. Anywhoo, here’s some need-to-knows about Alannah.

Alannah has two main verses: Warrior of Light and Non-WoL.

Her non-WoLverse is actually the primary one, but with Shadowbringers I’ve been focusing more on her WoL story.

I also have an infinite amount of AU verses for her based on various media but nobody has time for me to list all of those.

In both verses she’s a White Mage, a capable healer, but focuses more on offensive elemental spells (wind, water, earth).

Alannah is my only OC with a Warrior of Light verse.

She’s 23 years old.

She has severe allergies to grass, pollen, dust, dander, and certain foods.

Her allergy reactions are largely kept at bay by a delicate chain diadem made and blessed by padjal. It also helps correct her shitty vision, magic is great.

Her deepest fears include deep water and phurbles.

She has four older brothers: Faron, Ean, Davon, and Brennan.

Family issues. Just so many family issues. That’s an entire post on its own.

Her hair is dark brown, not black. I cannot state this emphatically enough no matter what my edits look like.

The white streaks are magical scars, the cause of them vary by verse.

Non-WoL Alannah is married to Nine Outway, they have a three-year old daughter named Aislinn.

Warrior of Light Alannah (hereafter known as WoLannah) I ship exclusively with dead ghost boyfriend Ardbert.

Deep-seated anger issues buried beneath a placid and friendly exterior.

Her aether is just irreparably borked and highly chaotic and is controlled via her staff and arcane symbols painted onto her arms in aether ink.

Her childhood dream was to be a powerful thaumaturge, which didn’t work out with her aether control issues.

R E B E C C A “B R I N A” C R O S S ( @thesilentcygnet )

26 years old.

Born to a moderately wealthy Limsan merchant family.

2 older sisters: Pippa and Lacy.

Jacke Swallow (of rogues guild fame) is her best friend (and secret love) since childhood.

Her entire family was murdered when she was 16 because her father made shady deals with the wrong people and owed them money.

She’s been mute since the day of the massacre after witnessing the murders while hiding in the cellar beneath their feet.

She’s been staying with Jacke and his cohorts in the Dutiful Sisters of the Edelweiss since then, though he’s the only one that knows her true identity.

A long chain of events has lead to her being kidnapped from Kugane, shipwrecked off the coast of Othard twice, sucked into a magical whirlpool, and left stranded on the First.

Will she ever get home? Perhaps, when I’ve finally decided that her ridiculous journey has been Odyssean enough.

K H I A R N A K H A ( @khi-tastrophe )

29 years old.

An incandescent ball of unquenchable rage, probably for valid reasons.

The daughter of the khan of a minor offshoot of the Kha tribe.

Had a twin sister named Khiela, who pretended to be kidnapped by an aggressive suitor and lead Khiarna on a wild goose chase across Eorzea in an attempt to find her.

Khiela and her lover conspired to and succeeded in murdering her father.

Khiarna returned to Othard and murdered the shit out of both of them in retaliation for killing her father.

She was then unanimously chosen as her father’s successor and currently reigns as khatun to the nomadic merchant tribe.

While traveling across Eorzea in search of her errant sister, Khi was involved in a relationship with a pathological liar, which has severely damaged her ability to trust people (on top of her family drama).

Currently in a relationship with Sidirahg of the Sixth ( @sidirahg ), who has the patience of a saint with her issues and also might be a masochist.

Khi is a shaman and uses a mix of conjury and pugilism in combat.

She covers her fists and feet in a solid layer of rock and then lights them on fire, using a combination of speed, flexibility, and disorienting blows to fell her opponents.

COMMON TAGS I USE

#alannah aesthetic - aesthetic tag.

#screenshots - tag for unedited screenshots of my characters.

#edits - tag for screenshot edits done by me.

#drabbles - tag for writing done by me.

#about alannah - tag for character profile memes, ask replies, relevant quotes.

#art of alannah - tag for art i’ve commissioned of Alannah.

#commissions - tag for art i’ve commissioned that also includes my other OCs.

#lanna things - tag for posts relevant to Alannah.

#9 - tag for posts related to Nine Outway.

#familial faultlines - tag for all of Alannah’s family issues.

#benedictions]&[bulletholes - ship tag for Alannah and Nine (contains screenshots, quotes, and aesthetic inspiration).

#the gravity of guilt - sub-B&B ship tag referencing events at the ruins of Nym.

#scars of nym - another B&B tag because I don’t have enough of them.

#otp: as one fool to another - ship tag for WoLannah and Ardbert

#AU: Warrior of Light - WoLannah tag.

#AU: Gloriana - tag for the AU in which Alannah goes power mad / angry at the world and misuses her magic to become an unstoppable force of destruction.

#AU: Dark Sunrise - tag for the AU in which Nine perma-dies and Alannah sells her soul to the darkness.

#keeper’s captain - ship tag for Brina and Jacke.

#boyfriend adjust - ship tag for Khi and Sid.

#tbd - tag for me yelling into the void that I pretend I’ll delete later.

OTHER BLOGS

@eastofean - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Ean Corvaine.

@aether-and-ash - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Aislinn Outway.

@blacklacelullaby - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Katja Iryut.

@cleric-stance - salty healer memes.

@sundownsanctuary - nsfw aesthetic inspo blog.

@lannahlearnsart - my hoard of digital art tutorials.

@halion - general World of Warcraft blog and inspo for my WoW OCs.

@veil-of-blades - ESO inspo blog for various Elder Scrolls OCs.

@theviciousnothing - my personal aesthetic blog.

PARTING NOTES

You’ve done it, you’ve reached the end of this post. All of this is just a basic overview of me and my characters, if you ever have any questions about anything please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM any time. Thanks for following. ♥

#behind the blog #pinned post

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1248

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? I feel like I’ve answered a similar situation recently, but I would assume it was a drunk text or wrong text, inform them about it, and move on.

Do you play video games? Nah. I do feel a sort of connection of video games since I grew up surrounded by them, though; but I’m more of a watcher than anything. I like watching playthroughs of video games I’ll never play. Do you spend a lot of time with family? No. We used to, back when the quarantine was still a relatively new thing – we hung out in the living room all the time. But now that we’ve settled in this new normal, we’re back to our normal routines and I usually like staying in my room.

Is your house more than two stories tall? Technically, yes. We have a rooftop that serves as the ‘third’ floor.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? My ex and I never hit one another; that’s a gigantic red flag even I would notice, considering I ignored most of the ones I saw hahaha.

What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) I’m not sure if I’ll be able to answer this question directly, but I like my generosity. I’m not sure if I can call it attractive, though. But if we were focusing on physical features, I like my smile.

What color is your hairbrush/comb? Pink.

What snacks do you have available in your household atm? My dad splurged on chips in his last grocery run so we actually have quite a lot of junk food in the pantry at the moment. He also bought several packs of cookie sandwiches, wafers, sunflower seeds, and garlic-flavored peanuts.

Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? Neither.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? No, she’s just a good friend of mine.

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? I guess I don’t, because I’m not even aware of them.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? Guy. It was another reporter, so I just ignored it and luckily he didn’t PM me just to ask to add him back, which others have already done. I really hate when work people try to make their way into my personal accounts.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? My parents, especially when they are rude to service crew. Gen X-ers are impeccably talented at that, apparently.

When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? Around two or three weeks ago when I had dinner at Angela’s. Her dad gave me a bar of Crunch so I can have something sweet after our meal.

Do you play any games on Facebook? No, I never did hop on that trend.

What would you like to get a degree in? I wanted a degree in journalism, and graduated with such. At the end of my college stint I didn’t want to pursue it anymore, but I pushed through with it anyway because it was too much of a hassle to shift and start all over.

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Technically not, because I stay up until the middle of the night anyway. It’s been a while since I fell asleep anywhere between 8 to 10 PM.

Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? Watch a show.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? I don’t like either; I get fries instead.

What genre of films do you like the best? Drama.

How many bank accounts do you have? Two but I haven’t been using the other one in months. That was the bank account I initially opened when I first started ~adulting~ but when I got employed I was required to enroll in this other specific bank, so that’s what I mainly use now.

Have you ever had the flu? Not really. I just get the occasional fever that pop out of nowhere.

What is your goal for the next few months? Start saving FOR REAL, and also prioritizing furniture over merch for a while so I can finally fix up my room, which is quickly starting to look and feel like just a warehouse and not very homey at all.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? Nope.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. Yeah, it was from barbecue that apparently went bad, even though it tasted nothing of the sort. I woke up at 3 AM sweating profusely and with the most excruciating stomachache; I was feeling hot, cold, and nauseous all at the same time, and it probably lasted for like an hour or so.

What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Sealed albums and my pets’ vet expenses.

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. Charming and smart.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? It felt nice to help people.

You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? Good question; I’ve never encountered this before. I would let her live a more comfortable, privileged life, where she didn’t have to staple her shoes to keep them closed or have to choose between eating at a fast food restaurant or being able to commute back home.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I’m not sure, actually. Everyone’s always slightly taller than me.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? I haven’t.

Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? Tumblr, I guess? My survey blog isn’t for any irls to see.

Which is worse: dusting or mopping? I don’t really do either often, but I’ll go with mopping.

Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? Not for me.

Did you pull a senior prank? No, that’s not a thing here. Did you graduate? Yeah, elementary, high school, and college.

Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? Nope.

What was the last song you listened to? It’s a song called Epiphany.

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? Not ever since I was like 9 lol.

Is fashion one of your interests? I’m way more interested in it now for sure, mostly because the celebrities I’m into these days put a lot of effort when it comes to their style; so it makes me more aware of the trends that come and go, as well.

Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? I’m keeping it as a possibility, but it’s not a priority for me now.

Do you care what people think? To an extent, I would say. My life doesn’t depend on it, though.

Is acting something you enjoy? Never been.

What was the last thing you broke/sprained? Do you mean a thing or a body part? Anyway, I’ll answer both. The last thing I broke was my BTS Mic Drop pen of V looooooooooool the figurine came off the pen :(( It was pretty cheap though so I’m fine with it; I can always get another one. Last body part I sprained was my ankle, when I had a bad fall a couple of years ago.

Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? Either hasn’t happened.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? I don’t think so.

Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at? Angela’s. Also JM’s, just because their family doesn’t hover and that vibe can sometimes be nice whenever I’m at someone else’s place.

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? Never.

Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? Not as a very young kid, but I took up table tennis starting when I was 12. Did you ever watch the show Full House? Nope.

Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? Now that’s just delusional haha. I’m pretty obsessed with some celebrities, that much I can admit; but thinking of them in the context of marriage is so many steps overboard.

Have you ever burned someone’s picture? No. I could, but I am scared of fire and will probably just think of other ways to express my anger, like tearing up the photograph. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? Total length was probably like 3 hours. I haven’t gone too far when it comes to hiking.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo? Not interested.

Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Hans.

Do your parents smoke cigarettes? My mom tried it once in her life, I think. My dad has never smoked.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? “Hope right here!”

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Anything that’s supposed to roam freely in the wild, like squirrels.

Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Taller, since I’m already quite pint-sized to begin with lol.

Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. < Agree, especially with the eras. Childhood photos are always fun to look at, but I have had to delete a CHUNK of photos from years ranging from 2014 to 2020 because I’ve lost a handful of friends from that period.

Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? It’s hard to for the most part, but I’ve noticed very few people people really don’t. Most of the time it’s bullshit though.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? That it’s pretty close to the metro.

What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during? Hmm, I prefer TV shows if I’m craving comedy.

What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? Life Is Beautiful.

What’s your favorite restaurant? Omakase for my sushi fix; School Tteokbokki if I want Korean; Yabu if I’m looking for a generous rice meal.

Is there a dessert you don’t like? Anything with fruits.

Favorite album? After Laughter by Paramore.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? I can name authors instead of books – John Green and Haruki Murakami.

Underwater or outer space? Outer space.

Dogs or cats? Dogs.

Kittens or puppies? Puppies.

Bird watching or whale watching? Whale watching. I don’t get to be in the water as much, so I would jump at the opportunity.

What is your spirit animal? I dunno if I have one but let’s just go with dog and elephant, I guess? They’re my favorites.

What was your best subject in school? History.

What was your worst subject in school? Chemistry.

What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? Don’t waste your time.

Who is your fashion icon? Audrey Hepburn.

Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds.

What color dress did you wear to prom? For my own prom it was cream-colored/beige. When I went to Mike’s ball, I went with a royal blue gown.

What’s your favorite plot-twist? I don’t think I’ve found my favorite yet.

Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? Not actively.

Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad? I dunno...road rage, maybe?

Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad? It’s very likely.

Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? Sometime in the last week.

Ever pop someone else’s pimple? No thanks.

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? Nope.

Who are you closest to? Angela.

Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No, all the ones I’ve been to have been amazing experiences.

Are you currently sad about anything? Not really. I can’t complain.

Have you had any form of exercise today? Nah.

Can you handle blood? Nope, I will feel faint if I see it 100%.

Has any place hired you underage for a job? No.

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? I haven’t.

Are you currently searching for a job? No, I like the one I have.

Does eating breakfast make you sick? No?

#survey #surveys

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sunnomnoms · 5 years ago

Note

Hi!! I wanted to request an scenario where the reader is a teacher in UA and is also good friends since their school years with Aizawa and Hizashi. She finds her old notes with some doodles and brings it to work so she could revive some memories with her friends. What she didn't remember is that she used to write Aizawa's name in her notebook with hearts around it... Kind of thing.... Thank you in advance ❤️❤️💖💖

AYYYY AN AIZAWA REQUEST yesyesyesyes this is so cute I love this. I hope I wrote him to your liking!! Also I am super sorry for the long wait! I had an unannounced hiatus and everytime I went to write this scenario Tumblr deleted it!!! >:,( but here it is!!

“It’s been years since I’ve seen one of these things!!” You squealed happily as you flipped through the pages.

“We were probably, what, second years back when I used this? God, that felt like centuries ago!”

You had found an old note book of yours that you used to use all the time in high school. You were a teacher now at UA, alongside your high school best friends, Shota and Hizashi. The three of you were often around each other along with other friends you had had. Though it felt so long ago, it’s as if you could remember that chapter of your life clearly...

“When do you plan to tell him?” Hizashi whispered teasingly at you as he peaked over your shoulder. You squeaked, pulling your notebook to your chest as a deep blush crept onto your face.

“C-can you not?? jeez Hizashi!” you whisper-yelled at him, to which he only laughed. The racket you two had caused caught a certain someone’s attention.

“What are you two doing?” Shota asked, turning around in his seat to face the two of you. He placed an elbow on your desk, propping his head on it. The teacher wasn’t in class yet so some students chatted away, it wasn’t a crime for you three to do the same.

Shota shifted his gaze to you, your slightly pink cheeks catching his attention.

“H-he’s flirting again, you know how he is.” You lied through your teeth, holding your notebook to your face to try and cover your blush. Hizashi laughed at the remark, adding a “yeah, okay.” Shota sighed, humming a little as to say “ah, of course” before he let out a small yawn.

“I’m gonna nap. Wake me up when sensei gets here.” He said groggily as he rested his head in his arms on your desk. Before you could even respond, he was fast asleep on your desk. pulling down your notebook a tad, you revealed the heart filled smile you had towards his sleeping form. Hizashi has made some teasing comments here and there, but you hadn’t paid much mind.

It was true, you had a crush on Shota back then. To say your attraction towards him disappeared would be a lie, but the two of you were professionals now, and there was no room for fluffy feelings like that. While occasionally you wished for such a romance between the two of you, you always shook the thoughts away. Shota was your coworker, as well as just your friend.

With that said, you made sure to try and avoid bringing one of your notebooks that had love poems and confessions in them. You had a bad habit of day dreaming back then, and when you’re a teenager, you can imagine what kind of things you day dreamed about.

“You used to draw that little thing on all of my papers, I couldn’t escape it.” Shota said, pointing to a familiar, simple cat doodle you often did. You laughed, flipping a few pages to see the same doodle reappear several times. He chuckled softly as well.

“Oh! And here’s that freaking S!” Hizashi said, pointing to the infamous ‘S’ symbol probably all teenagers drew at one part of their life. “That thing haunts me!! I have no idea what it is or where it came from!!” Hizashi exclaimed over dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “I’m pretty sure everyone drew it.” You added.

The three of you sort of huddled around, reminiscing on old notes and doodles you all once did. Most of them were done by you, but some pages were filled with doodles done by all of you. Hizashi’s doodles usually contained random things, even memes at the time. Shota seemed to write small notes that usually were filled with sarcasm, and would occasionally draw little cats. Your doodles were always all over the place, from things like skulls to bunnies, or sharks and flowers. If hero work wouldn’t have worked so well in your favor, perhaps you would have been an artist. Who knows?

The time came when your off period was up, and the three of you had to go back to class and teach. You had left your notebook in the lobby, expecting to take it home with you when you left.

Unfortunately, you were a bit of a clutz that day, and had started to run late for your train.

“Ah, I’ll talk to you all tomorrow!!! My train is about to be here in ten minutes and it’s usually a fifteen minute walk, I gotta run!!” You called in a panic as you dashed out of the school.

“W-Wait, I could-” Shota called out to you, before stopping himself.

“... just give you a ride...” he sighed as he watched you scurry off without a second thought. He had to stay back for a half an hour anyway to file some paperwork, he would have had no issue bringing you home. But you were quick on your feet, and already too far and too determined to catch that train.

Aizawa laughed softly. You were always like this it seemed. You weren’t an idiot, no, but... an airhead? Sure. You often were oblivious to things going on it seemed. Not to mention how forgetful you could be.

On the topic of your forgetfulness, it seems you had yet again left something at work.

Shota looked over at you desk, noticing the notebook you seemed to have left behind while dashing off for your train. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, Shota was basically expecting it at this point. He let out another sigh, picking up the notebook. Upon noticing it was your old notebook from highschool, he opened it up to relive a few memories before getting back to filing papers. It was the same nostalgic things he had seen earlier, some things he didn’t remember, some things he remembered all too well. A small smile played on his lips as he flipped through the pages.

“What are you doing?” Shota inquired as he watched you scribble in your notebook.

“Nothing!! You can’t see yet!!” You giggled as you continued to intently sketch away.

Shota wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but he couldn’t help but find you cute like this. Maybe it was the way your hair fell in your face as you worked, maybe it was the little smile on your face, he couldn’t put his finger one what exactly caught his eye about the familiar sight. And yet, any time you did your little sketches, he’d sneak glances. Not at your notebook, but at you. You were just so cute when you were determined.

“Okay, I’m done. Lookie!” You said, placing your book on the desk for him to see. Shota blinked a few times before he realized what he was looking at. “It’s you!” You giggled.

It was a sketch of a cat, a black one, with the binding cloth around its neck. Shota felt a small smile pull on his lips as he looked at it.

“It’s so cute..” Shota muttered, before realizing what he had said. He looked up to you, expecting some sort of weirded out expression, but instead was met by your flustered expression.

“It’s just a doodle, it isn’t that cute! Haha!” You said sheepishly, waving him off.

As far back as Shota could remember knowing you, he had always recognized you as a strong girl. And yet, when you weren’t busy kicking ass, you found the time to be cute and endearing. Perhaps it was the duality you had that attracted him so much. But with how things have been recently with hero work and teaching, he doubted now was the right time to act on any sort of feelings. Shota couldn’t risk ruining the healthy work relationship the two of you had.

Shota flipped through a few more pages, and was ready to leave his reminiscing session there, until his eyes caught his name in one of the pages he passed. Blinking a few times, he flipped back a few pages, and scanned the page for his name. It didn’t take much scanning at all though. He felt his heart stop.

Not only did he find his name surrounded by hearts, but he found entire heartfelt notes. Little notes about the little details you noticed and loved, notes about how much you loved his long hair, notes about how you adored his love for cats, notes about how you admired his hard work on mastering the binding cloth...

Shota hadn’t felt his heart swell like that in years. It hurt almost, he even almost let out an audible swoon. Sitting down at his desk, he tried to process what he was reading. How many other Shota’s did they go to school with at the time? Was it really him she was talking about?

It had to be. Who else could it be?

Shota closed the notebook and sat back in his chair. His heart pounded against his chest, his head swarmed him with thoughts on what to do now that he had this information. He wanted to just kiss you, call you stupid for not saying anything for long, telling you he felt the same and still does. But that begs the question, do you still feel that way? The idea of your feelings fading away all these years later made his breath hitch. It was totally possible. You were teenagers, what if it was just a little phase? Something you were in and out of within a week?

Shota sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon, settling for an idea he had. He’d come over to your apartment to drop it off, and he’d ask you about it then, right? Surely that was a fool-proof plan, right?

“What am I, 16?” Shota mocked himself out loud. He was acting like a nervous teenager again. Why?

Packing up and calling it a day (despite not filing a single paper...), Shota set off towards his car.

He held a hope in his heart that things haven’t changed too much from when you two were teenagers.

#shouta aizawa x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha requests #bnha requests #mha imagines #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #ryu bnha tag

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shawtygonemad · 4 years ago

Text

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 7

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

Through time and space once more, our extraordinary duo was off to have another adventure. The TARDIS sped through the time vortex.

"Where are we going?" Ross asked.

"The planet Panera. They have fantastic bread," the Doctor grinned at her companion.

The TARDIS suddenly switched course and jolted in the opposite direction. The Doctor examined the screen and tried to figure out what was going on. The ship finally materialized. The Doctor and Ross stepped out. It was a dimly lit area with carpeting and display cases. It looked like a museum.

"So, what is it? What's wrong," Ross instantly began to ask.

"Don't know. Some kind of signal drawing the TARDIS off course," the Doctor spoke as she looked around.

"Where are we?"

"Earth. Utah, North America. About half a mile underground," the Time Lord deduced.

"And when are we?"

"2012," she informed her friend as she began to inspect a case.

"God, that's so close. So I should be 26."

The Doctor found the light switch and flipped it on. The room and cases suddenly lit up.

"Blimey. It's a great big museum."

"An alien museum," she looked at the exhibits as she walked forward. "Someone's got a hobby." She shook her head.

"They must have spent a fortune on this. Chunks of meteorites, moon dust. That's the milometer from Roswell spaceship." She furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

"That's a bit of Slitheen!" Ross pointed to a Slitheen arm in one of the glass cases. "That's a Slitheen's arm. It's been stuffed."

The Doctor stopped in front of one of the cases. "Oh, look at you."

Ross walked behind the Doctor and looked over her shoulder. "What is it?"

'Delete…' she heard an echo in her mind.

"An old friend of mine. Well, enemy. Stuff of nightmares reduced to an exhibit. I'm getting old." She internally groaned.

"Is that where the signal's coming from," Ross asked.

"No, it's stone dead. The signal's alive, calling out for help."

The Doctor reached out her fingers, and lightly brushed the glass. Alarms suddenly blared from all around. The pair slightly jumped at the sudden noise. The Time Lord mentally kicked herself. She should have been more careful. Before they could make it to the TARDIS they were cut off and surrounded by guards. The guards were armed and aiming at them.

"If someone's collecting aliens, that makes you exhibit A," Ross nervously joked.

The two of them were escorted by the armed guards up many levels, and throughout the complex. The journey was mostly silent. Ross stayed close by her side, however. Finally they were led into their destination. An office full of over confident Americans.

The man sitting at the desk seemed to be the one behind the complex. He was being showed their recent purchase. It was a musical instrument. They did not know it, and looked completely daft whilst holding it.

"You really wouldn't hold it like that," she almost laughed at how stupid he looked.

"Shut it," she was yelled at.

"Really though, it's wrong," she insisted.

"Is it dangerous?" A girl around Ross's age asked.

"No, it just looks silly," the Doctor smirked.

She reached for the item. Firing bolts clicked all around her. She stopped. The man behind the desk curiously looked at her, and handed over the curved palm sized object.

"You just need to be-"she stroked the instrument softly, and out rang a beautiful sound. "Delicate." To prove her point, she played several different notes.

"It's a musical instrument," the man said, fascinated.

"And it's a long way from home," the Doctor commented.

"Here, let me," the man took the instrument from her hands.

She raised her eyebrows. That was rude. The man proceeded to touch it harder, causing no noise to come out.

"I did say delicate. It reacts to the smallest fingerprint. It needs precision," she once again informed him.

Once he finally got the hang of it and produced music, she smiled.

"Very good. Quite the expert," she complimented.

"As are you," he said before tossing the object on the floor.

The Doctor's jaw dropped. That was almost two hundred years old! It was used to entertain kings and queens, and he just threw it away?! Who is this man?!

"Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm the Doctor. And you are?"

"Like you don't know. We're hidden away with the most valuable collection of extra-terrestrial artifacts in the world, and you just stumbled in by mistake?"

The Doctor laughed. "Pretty much sums me up, yeah."

The man slowly walked around his desk, and got closer to the Doctor.

"The question is, how did you get in? Fifty three floors down, with your cat burglar accomplice. You're quite an artifact yourself, being rather pretty."

"The cat burglar accomplice is going to smack you if you don't give the 'artifact' personal space," Ross shot off angrily. It shocked the Doctor a bit. It was the first time he was ever verbally protective of her.

"Oh, he's English too! Hey, little lady Fauntleroy. Got you a boyfriend."

"This is Mister Henry Van Statten," the girl introduced. She was the only English person, besides Ross, at the complex.

"Who is he at home?" Ross snidely remarked.

"Mister Van Statten owns the internet," she added.

"Don't be stupid. No one owns the internet," he jabbed again.

"And let's just keep letting the world think that, right kids," Van Statten remarked, smug.

"So you're just an expert in everything except the things in your museum. Anything you don't understand, you lock it up."

"And you claim greater knowledge?" Van Statten challenged.

"I don't need to make claims. I know how good I am," she shot back.

"And yet, I captured you. Right next to the cage. What were you doing down there?" He asked.

The Doctor placed her hands on her hips. "You tell me," she sassed.

"The cage contains my one living specimen."

"And what's that?"

"Like you don't know," Van Statten scoffed.

"Show me."

"You want to see it?" Van Statten once again challenged the Doctor.

"Blimey, do I need to separate you two?" Ross remarked, annoyed.

"Goddard, inform the cage we're heading down. You, English. Look after the boy. Go and canoodle or spoon or whatever it is you British do. And you, Doctor with no name, come and see my pet."

Van Statten stood in the elevator with a smirk on his face. The Doctor gave Ross a reassuring look before stepping on the lift next to the American. The ride down was quick and silent. Once they stepped out of the lift, the Doctor was led over toward a large metal door. Van Statten spoke as he unlocked and opened the large door.

"We've tried everything. The creature has shielded itself but there's a definite sign of life inside."

"Inside? Inside what?" The Doctor asked, curiously.

A man in an orange hazard suit walked over to Van Statten.

"Welcome back, Sir. I've had to take the power down. The Metaltron is resting."

"Metaltron?"

'What kind of dumb name is that?' She thought.

"I thought of it myself," Van Statten stated proudly.

'Of course.'

"Although I'd much to prefer to find out its real name."

"Here, you'd better put these on," the man in the hazard offered her rubber gloves. "The last guy that touched it burst into flames."

"I won't touch it then," she said like it was most obvious.

"Go on, Doctor. Impress me," Van Statten grinned at her.

The Doctor narrowed her eyes at him before strutting past, into the cage. It was very dark as she looked around. She jumped slightly as the door slammed shut behind her.

The Time Lord continued to investigate. She found a small table with drills, and other torture tools. Her heart instantly went out to the creature. She turned to where she assumed the 'Metaltron' was. She couldn't make it out. The room was too dark.

"Look, I'm sorry about this. Mister Van Statten might think he's clever, but never mind him. I've come to help. I'm the Doctor."

A few seconds of silence passed before a blue light was seen. When the Metaltron spoke, two white lights flashed with its words.

"Doc-tor?"

The Doctor's eyes widened, and her hearts stopped. No! This can't happen. It's-

"Impossible," she managed to breathe out.

"The Doc-tor?" The Metaltron spoke with more confidence this time.

The lights came up to reveal a Dalek. The Doctor's worst enemy. And it was chained to the floor. This didn't stop the Doctor from crying out in fear.

"Ex-ter-min-ate! Ex-ter-min-ate!"

The Time Lord flung herself onto the door and started to pound her fists.

"Let me out," she practically screamed.

"Ex-ter-min-ate!"

The door wouldn't open. The Doctor took a step back and just stared at the monstrosity. Her entire body was quivering. Her hearts were pounding hard into her chest.

"You are an en-e-my of the Da-leks! You must be des-troyed!"

The Doctor closed her eyes and awaited death. This was it. This was how she would finally die after nine hundred years. Maybe it was her time. Suddenly she accepted her fate. She never realized until now that she was ready to go.

After a few seconds without pain, she opened her eyes. She was alive! Yet a small part inside of her was disappointed. That part was overshadowed by the sickening joy she suddenly felt over her enemy.

"It's not working." She started to laugh like she's gone mad. "Fantastic! Oh, Fantastic! Powerless! Look at you. The great space dustbin. How does it feel?"

The Dalek tried to roll backwards, but was stopped by the chains.

"Keep back!" It demanded.

"What for?" She launched herself forward and became face to eyestock with the Dalek. "What're you going to do to me?" She challenged.

The Doctor, bottled with rage, began to circle the creature. Like a lion hunting its prey. She wanted to intimidate it.

"If you can't kill, then what are you good for, Dalek? What's the point of you? You're nothing!"

The Gallifreyan finally stopped back in front of the Dalek.

"What the hell are you here for?"

"I am a-wait-ing or-ders!" It responded to her.

"What does that mean?"

"I am a sold-ier. I was bred to rec-ieve or-ders."

"Well you're never going to get any. Your race is dead!" She yelled at it. "You all burnt, all of you. Ten million ships on fire. The entire race wiped out in one second."

"You lie!"

"I watched it happen. I made it happen," she spoke maliciously.

"You des-troyed us?" It asked, almost sounding heartbroken.

The alien stopped and calmed down a bit. She turned away from the Dalek in guilt. Their race wasn't the only one she destroyed that day.

"I had no choice," she responded quietly.

"And what of the Ti-me Lo-rds?"

"Dead." She managed to choke out. "They burned with you. The end of the last great Time War. Everyone lost."

"And the coward survived."

This fueled her rage once more. However, she managed to keep it under control.

"Oh, and I caught your little signal. Help me. Poor little thing. But there's no one else coming 'cause there's no one else left."

"I am a-lone in the un-i-verse," it almost sounded defeated.

"Yep."

"So are you. We are the same."

The Doctor spun around, no longer able to hold her anger.

"We're not the same! I'm not-"she paused as a cruel thought crossed her mind. "No, wait. Maybe we are. You're right. Yeah, okay. You've got a point. 'Cause I know what to do. I know what should happen. I know what you deserve." She grinned sickeningly.

"Exterminate."

With that the Doctor pulled a lever on a nearby console. The Dalek lit up with electricity. It began to scream, and she just watched.

"Have pity!" It cried out.

"Why should I? You never did." She pulled another lever, and increased the electricity.

"Help me!"

Suddenly the door opened and guards flooded in. She launched herself towards the last lever. No! This was her only chance to kill it! She was suddenly yanked away from the panel and was practically carried out of the cage.

"No! You've got to destroy it!" She yelled.

The Doctor ripped herself away from the guards once outside the cage. She frowned deeply as she waited for Van Statten to leave the cage. She was very cross with the American man. Once he left the cage they were guided towards the lift.

"The metal's just an armor. The real Dalek creature's inside," she explained to Van Statten.

"What's it look like?" he asked.

"A nightmare. It's a mutation. The Dalek race was genetically engineered. Every single emotion was removed except hate," she tried to explain to them. These stupid little apes weren't getting the big picture!

"Genetically engineered," he spoke as if it were Christmas. "By whom?"

"By a genius, Van Statten," she was starting to get stressed out. "By a man who was king of his own little world. You'd like him."

Van Statten's assistant Goddard decided to butt herself in.

"It's been on Earth for over fifty years. Sold at private auction, moving from one collection to another. Why would it be a threat now?" she asked.

"Because I'm here." How many times does she have to explain it? "How did it get to Earth? Does anyone know?"

"The records say it came from the sky like a meteorite. It fell on Earth on the Ascension Islands. Burnt in its crater for three days before anyone could get near it and all that time it was screaming. It must have gone insane," Goddard spoke in a superior tone.

The Doctor stood for a moment and thought. "It must of fallen through time. The only survivor."

"You talked about war," the human female asked.

"The Time War. The final battle between my people and the Dalek race."

"But you survived, too," Van Statten said with a devilish smile on his face.

"Not by choice," The Doctor added grimly.

"This means the Dalek isn't the only alien on Earth. Doctor, there's you. The only one of your kind in existence."

Just as the doors opened, the Doctor was once again grabbed. She struggled against their grip as they led her into her own cage.

"Any type of exposed metal is going to affect the laser scanner," Van Statten smiled.

The Doctor ended up having to shed her boots, jacket, and top. She was able to keep her bra on because Van Statten claimed he was a 'gentleman'. So now that the Doctor was stripped, she got chained spread eagle in front of the scanner.

"Now, smile!" Van Statten said, cheerfully.

The Doctor bit her lip as a painful shock ran through her body from the laser.

"Two hearts! Binary Vascular System. Oh, I am so going to patent this," Van Statten said.

The Doctor glared at the man. "So that's your secret. You don't just collect this stuff, you scavenge it."

She shook her head in anger as Van Statten went on to say how he cured the common cold and was going to sell cures for every disease. The Doctor was getting frustrated.

"Do you know what a Dalek is, Van Statten? A Dalek is honest. That creature in your dungeon is better than you."

"In that case, I'll be true to myself and continue," Van Statten frowned.

"Listen to me! That thing downstairs is going to kill every last one of us!" She tried to get through to him.

"Nothing can escape the cage."

Van Statten turned the laser up a Koch and blasted the Doctor. She bit her lip harder as she tried to endure the pain. Once the laser stopped, she attempted to catch her breath and speak.

"But it's woken up! It knows I'm here. It's going to get out. Van Statten, I swear, no one in this base is safe. No one on this planet!"

He turned the laser to its highest setting. It once again blasted the Doctor. This time around wasn't for informational purposes. He just wanted to hear her scream. And he did.

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