#THE ONLY REASON THIS HAPPENED WAS BECAUSE MY BROTHER HAD TWO BUTTONS SWITCHED

[meltedbuttersblog]

me playing detroit become human and pressing the wrong button on the ps5 controller causing kara and alice to get sent to the android extermination camps

[crankynewt]

Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

Taglist:

@fanfictionedagain @lam-ila @b0nnyzz @haydieenzzibug @cyanide-mustard @duchess-of-new-shire @the-chocoholic-writer @milenadixon @real-fbi @golddenlioness

[fortuositywritings]

Love Bug (Wanda x Reader)

Summary

So when Peter is bitten by a spider, he gets cool superpowers; but when you’re bitten by one, you get loopy and say things you never meant to say.

“I can’t get your smile out of my mind. I think about your eyes all the time. Beautiful but you don’t even try.”

Word Count: 5688

Warnings: None unless you count someone fainting and mention of spider

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

“That is freaky.”

“Come on, you’re impressed. Just say it’s impressing.”

“It’s impressingly freaky,” you say tapping on the glass of the container that holds Peter’s new tech. “Stark really took taxidermy to the next level.”

“Relax. It’s mechanical. It needs a name. I’m thinking ‘RoboSpider’,” Peter says enthusiastically as you are both watching the metallic spider crawl in its container. It looks so real. It’s creepy.

“That’s a stupid name,” you turn to Peter.

“I think it fits him.”

“Of course you do, Spider Boy,” you reply. Peter just scoffs. 

“What does it do?”

Peter narrows his eyes on the spider. “I think it has a camera for surveillance. I’m sure it does something cool.”

“Didn’t they tell you when they gave it to you? Or give you a manual or something?”

“No, they don’t know I know about it yet, but I’m sure we can figure it out,” he says as he begins to open the container.

“What do you mean they don’t kno-”

“What are you two doing?” The unexpected voice behind you has you and Peter turn around wide-eyed so quickly you could Pietro a run for his money. You and Peter stand in front of the container and let out a panicked, “Nothing!”

You finally take in whom the voice belongs to and the panic washes away from both you and Peter. You honestly should have known who it was off the bat when that very damn voice haunts your dreams. Well, ‘haunts’ isn’t really the right word.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sigh in relief as Wanda approaches you both.

“Just me?” she quirks an eyebrow. 

And suddenly, for reasons unknown (you know the reasons, you just won’t admit them yet), the panic comes back and you begin to ramble, “Yes, I mean NO! I mean yes you but not like ‘just’ you, you know? Like ‘it’s only you’ - er ‘it’s you only’ but like a good ‘it’s you only’ as in we’re glad it’s you and not someone else who came in -”

“Y/N, I think she gets it,” Peter stops your ramble. 

You see Wanda giving you what seems to be an amused smile. You feel your cheeks heat up as you try looking anywhere else. Is it getting hot in here?

“Well, I was looking for you to ask if either of you wanted to watch a movie named ‘13 Going On 30’? Pietro says one of the characters looks like Bruce.”

You look to Peter to answer. You don’t think you can open your mouth anymore without embarrassing yourself.

“Yeah, we’ll be right down,” he replies with ease, lucky asshole. 

You finally look at Wanda as she gives you a parting smile and you give an awkward one in return. Your eyes follow her until she is out of sight. 

“You’ve got it bad,” Peter teases.

“Shut up,” you reply as you turn your attention back to the container.

Peter continues, “Like I thought I was bad at talking to girls-”

The empty container. Panic seems to be the mood for today as it comes back full force.

“Peter.��

“-but that was like next level.”

“Peter!”

“What?” he finally turns to you.

“RoboSpider is missing.”

“Aha! See, it’s not that stupid,” he says with a victorious smile on his face that quickly falls, “Wait what did you say?” 

You simply point at the glaringly empty container. 

“That’s not good.”

You give Peter the most sarcastic face you could muster. 

“Help me look! It couldn’t have gone far,” Peter gets on his knees and begins searching for the spider. 

You frantically search countertops, “Does it not have an off switch?”

“I don’t know.”

“Obviously or this wouldn’t be happening right now!” you whisper scream.

“Here, RoboSpider. Tsk tsk tsk. Come on out, boy,” Peter starts calling.

He looks ridiculous doing so from the floor. You step in front of him.

“You really think that’s going to work?”

He looks up at you and shrugs. You feel like you’re a minute away from sweating. Less than a minute based on the tickling sensation on your neck. Maybe Peter can tell to cause he’s looking at your neck, his eyes widening. You don’t know why it’s so shocking you’re sweating as he should be too because if Tony finds out you lost RoboSp- the damn spider, he will have your heads. 

“Y/N, don’t freak out.”

Why did he have to say that? Freaking out is in your very nature. You do it so well. You’ve been doing it all day. Suddenly, you are all too aware of what you thought was sweat tickling your neck but now realize, unless you have discovered a new ability and become a water bender, sweat does not move like that. You close your eyes and try to steady your pulse. Don’t freak out.

“Peter. get. it. off.”

As hard as you tried to stop it, your pulse begins racing again as Peter slowly rises to his feet grabbing a cup and a paper from the counter. “Relax, I don’t think it bites.”

You open your eyes and ask once you see Peter reaching out, “Why the paper and cup then?”

“Precaution.”

You feel the spider still and somehow that pushes you over the edge. Your pulse goes into overdrive, your whole body breaks into goosebumps, and you finally let the urge to swat at your neck take over. It’s as if Peter and the spider sense this. All too quickly, the following happen: you bring your hand up to smack at your neck, Peter races to it first with the cup, and the spider bites down. 

“Ow, shit!”

“Got it!” 

Peter smiles triumphantly as you rub at your neck. He places the spider back in its container and properly closes it.

“You said it didn’t bite.”

“I also said not to freak out. Are you okay? Let me see,” he takes your hand off your neck to check the bite.

“Is it gross? Is it red? Green? Pulsing? Am I gonna die? Peter, say something!”

“It’s not there. I don’t see any bite. I think you might have just smacked yourself with your hand.”

Your hand comes back to your neck as you feel around. You don’t feel any bump. You take out your phone to look for a mark but don’t see one.

“Count yourself lucky, Parker,” you glare at him over your phone.

“Okay, but you should have seen your face,” he laughs as you both exit the lab. You just roll your eyes.

As you are walking to the common space, you feel your legs go a little numb. Peter notices you walking funny.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I think I’m still a little shaken up is all.”

You stop Peter right as you’re about to turn into the common space. You warn him, “We do not speak of what happened in the lab.”

Peter raises his hands up in defense, “Hey, I’m not trying to get in trouble either.”

“Okay, good.”

“Great. Now let’s join everyone and watch Bruce’s twin on screen while you stare at Wanda the whole movie.”

You smack his arm and then grab it leading him into the room as you comment, “Okay, but like that guy really does look like Bruce. How have I never noticed?”

That you didn’t deny the Wanda comment is not lost on either of you.

You can already smell the popcorn in the air right as you walk in. You immediately spot Wanda standing by the TV talking to her brother who seems to be growing frustrated with the remote. You note everyone who has joined you for the movie. Bucky and Steve are sitting on the long couch talking. Bucky looks like he had just woken up from a nap, his shirt wrinkled and hair slightly sticking up on one side. Steve is freshly showered wearing his usual attire. With his muscles showing through his shirt and his posture even as he’s sitting down, he looks untouchable, but you know differently with the bandage on the side of his forehead covering a wound he claims to be from a mission. Turning your head a bit more, you see Nat and Clint heading over to the couch with buckets of popcorn. Both are dressed for the gym but neither looked sweaty so you assume they decided to watch the movie instead. Farther down you see Bruce kneeled beside the single massage chair people usually fought over. You think he’s lost something under the chair.

You turn back to Wanda. She looks so soft in her matching sweats and crew neck sweater that you had not noticed she was wearing earlier. Granted, you were busy freaking out about getting caught with the spider. You can see her eyes shining bright and lips form a line as if trying to hold back laughter. She looks so carefree in the moment and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone so ethereal as she crosses her arms covering the bottom of her gorgeous cascading hair that always tempts your fingers to touch.

I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

“What is?” Peter says breaking your reverie.

“What?” You turn to look at him.

“You said you wondered if it’s as soft as it looks.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you think we should go help Pietro? He looks like he’s struggling,” you change the subject.

“Yeah, it’s kind of painful to watch.”

You and Peter walk over to the twins. Wanda spots you two first and gives you both a friendly smile. Trying not to look silly standing there blushing, you clear your throat, “Having trouble there, McQueen?”

Pietro looks even more exasperated after your comment.

“Once again, Y/N. Your teasing is of no use if I do not know what you are talking about.”

You roll your eyes, “I swear, one of these days it will be my turn to pick a movie and rest assured, it will be Cars. Now what is wrong with the remote?”

“I press up and down but it is moving side to side on the screen. And then I press the off and on button but it does not do it on time. It is broken.”

Peter takes the remote from Pietro. 

You hear a quiet giggle from Wanda. You look at her and can clearly see her holding in laughter. You throw her a confused look wondering what could be so funny to have her like this. She nods past your shoulder so you turn to look. In your line of vision, you see Bruce fiddling with a remote on a massage chair that looks out of control rocking Bruce forwards and back over and over. You turn slightly to see Peter on what you now understand is not the TV remote pressing the up and down buttons. It is single handedly, the funniest goddamn thing you’ve witnessed. How Wanda kept it together that long, you don’t know because you do not last a second when it all clicks in your head. What you do know is Wanda’s laughter is the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard. Forget your favorite song of the month. You could hear her laughter on repeat forever. 

Everyone in the room turns to look at the two of you laughing. Finally, after calming yourself down and wiping the tears from under your eyes, you wordlessly take the control from Peter, walk on over to Bruce, trade remotes with him, walk back over to Peter, and give him the correct remote. Everyone laughs save Peter, Bruce, and Pietro who look embarrassed. 

“For two of the smartest people I know, that was just absurd,” you tell Peter. “I mean I get Pietro, but you Parker. Shame.”

“Hey! I understood that one,” Pietro replies.

Wanda just giggles beside you and you don’t know if it’s simply because of the whole control fiasco or because of her laughter that you feel so light inside. So light and happy in fact that for the first time since you met her, you look at her and you give her an honest to god genuine smile first. It is not an awkward smile you returned but one you gave her first without feeling shy or embarrassed. This time Wanda is giving you what you think looks like a shy smile though you know that could just well be wishful thinking. It is a smile nevertheless and it makes you feel like you are flying. You actually have to look down to make sure your feet are on the ground. You only look back up when you hear her voice again.

“I’m going to get some drinks. Y/N, come with me?” She nods her head toward the kitchen.

Quick, what do I say. “Of course, I’ll come with you anywhere.” NO! Absolutely not. That sounds dirty.Yes, I’ll follow you anywhere. Nope. That one sounds creepy. Oh, god. Now she’s looking at me weird. Oh my god, please don’t be reading my mind right now.

“No, you are very much saying everything aloud right now,” you hear Pietro say. You see color rise to Wanda’s cheeks. You turn to Pietro and Peter and if anything goes by Peter’s shocked face, you very much did say everything out loud. Pietro’s face is so damn smug as he passes by you and whispers, “I personally think ‘I’ll follow you anywhere’ sounds romantic.” 

Peter follows closely behind Pietro and just gives you a shrug that says “what am I supposed to do?” when you give a desperate look that screams “HELP ME”. You close your eyes as you turn back around to Wanda.

“Can we just pretend I said ‘yeah, sure’ and nothing I actually said?”

You hear her say, “If that is what you want, okay. Now let’s go. I don’t think they will wait for us to start the movie.”

You finally open your eyes when you feel Wanda tug on your arm. She doesn’t let go until you make it to the fridge and when she does you feel warm where she touched you. You really need to get it together. She opens the fridge and takes out several sodas. As she hands you a few to carry, your fingers brush and though the cans are cold, you know they are not the reason goosebumps suddenly appear along your arm. You clear your throat and take a quick step back. Maybe a little too quick as you bump into the counter. 

“Are you alright?” Wanda asks.

Embarrassed you answer, “Yep, totally cool.” Totally not thinking about how badly I’d like to hold your hand or anything. Nope. Totally cool. “Awesome. Excited really to um watch the movie.”

She looks up at you with rosy cheeks and a confused look. You can’t blame her. You don’t even know where you are going with this.

You feign hearing something from where everyone else is. 

“I actually think I hear the movie playing. We should um go. We don’t want to miss the-the start and everyone is probably thirsty,” you stutter walking backwards back to the TV viewing area. 

You turn around and shake your head at yourself. You can hear Wanda’s footsteps following not too far behind. You both begin handing out sodas to everyone who decided to watch the movie. You stand off to the side with the soda you were left with looking for where to sit. Bruce was still sitting in the massage chair that is now working in the way he likes. Nat, Bucky, Steve, and Clint sit on the longer couch. Pietro lies on his side on the floor right in front of the TV. Lastly, on the smaller couch sits Peter and now Wanda. Seems like you will be taking the floor as well. 

You decide you’ll sit by Pietro. Better this way than sitting by his sister who is looking at you so intensely as if studying you or trying to figure what you are thinking without actually reading your thoughts. You know she wouldn’t do that if she could help it. She respects everyone enough to not invade their minds. Little does she know she invades yours everyday in the least expected way. 

Just as you are about to sit, Peter calls your name, “Oh, Y/N, here you can have my seat.” 

Fucking well-mannered asshole, you think to yourself. But then you are not so sure you kept that in your head after you hear Pietro chuckle.

You walk on over to the small couch as Peter crouches to the floor. You’ve been trying to avoid Wanda’s gaze but the closer you get the harder it is. You finally look at her and her gorgeous eyes that always make your head spin. You’re rather dizzy by the time you make it to the couch.

No, but like actually dizzy this time. Maybe you are coming down with something. That would actually be a godsend at a time like this. You don’t think you can last a whole movie sitting so close to Wanda.  

You actually do feel a bit better sitting down. She gives you a small smile which you awkwardly return. Great. Back to awkward you. You stare down to the unopened soda can in her hand - orange soda. You know she isn’t going to drink that. Fortunately for her, you hold her preferred drink - Dr. Pepper. 

“Here. Trade you,” you offer your drink to her.

“Oh!” She looks surprised, but pleasantly surprised you’d say based on the smile on her face when she sees the drink you are offering. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” you say. “I like orange better.” Lie.

“Thanks,” she takes the drink from your hand and gives you hers. “You know, this is actually my favorite.”

I know.

“Well then good thing I sat here as it worked out for the both of us,” you respond, your nerves settling down somewhat letting your body relax on the couch.

Of course that doesn’t last long when she also leans back comfortably looking you dead in the eye as she says, “Yeah, lucky me.”

You swear you feel your heart skip a beat, possibly a whole 16 bars worth. Then you think your heart stops beating all together when she leans her side into yours. You are pretty certain the couch is spacious enough to have no touching happening. You are in no shape to say anything though as you are basically trying to catch your breath while the movie plays. When you finally do breathe in deep, you suddenly wish you hadn’t. All you can smell is her shampoo. 

How can anyone smell so good? It should be illegal. What is it, strawberry? Smells a little like flowers too.

“Good nose,” Wanda whispers, leaning more so into your space giving you a mini heart attack. “It’s strawberry shampoo and the lotion is rose scented. I can show you later if you want? Here, smell it.” 

Wanda practically shoves her wrist under your nose. You are trying to remember the words to “Hail Mary” because this just might be the moment you die. You hesitantly sniff her wrist and though you wish you could stay there until all the oxygen in your body is replaced by that scent you quickly pull away.

“Yep, roses.”

You turn to give her a quick smile and shit she’s close. Any closer and you’d be bumping noses. You linger there for what feels like forever but you know it’s more around 5 seconds, 4 seconds longer than you would have ever allowed yourself before. Your throat goes dry. 

“Sorry,” you whisper quickly as you turn your head to the TV to try to distract yourself. You pop open your soda and nearly chug it down all the way. Wanda is quiet beside you seemingly invested in the movie as she takes sips of her soda but you know she is not following along because every other minute you see her glance your way from your peripheral vision. 

You feel her pull away from you and get off the couch, and you almost sigh in relief until you see her come back with a blanket. You finish off your soda and leave the can on the floor as she sits back down. You try to ignore her but she calls your attention by waving a side of the blanket in front of you asking if you want some. You shake your head no and Wanda pouts. Like she actually pouts and she waves the blanket again looking at you expectantly.

God, you’re too cute. Like I could ever say no to that face.

You nod giving your thanks as she throws the blankets over you as well. 

“Good to know,” she says. As you’re about to ask what is good to know, she leans fully into your side, loops her arm around yours, and lays her head on your shoulder turning her attention back to the movie without a word. She either doesn’t realize or she doesn’t care that her actions have broken you. You are stiff as a board but you quickly will yourself to relax. You reason if this is the only chance you get to be with her like this, you may as well enjoy it.

As the movie goes on, you feel more relaxed than you ever felt. You don’t know if it is the warmth of the blanket or of having Wanda pressed so close, but you feel sluggish, almost tired-like but you know you’re not ready to sleep yet. It is almost like your brain is taking a little longer to catch up to what is happening. 

When Wanda’s thumb is rubbing your hand, you sigh. 

This feels nice. I always wondered what holding your hand would feel like. Now that I know, I don’t ever want to let go. You think or you think you think.

When she squeezes your hand, you’re not so sure you kept that in your head but this time you don’t really care because she sinks further into you. You don’t even know when she decided to hold your hand, but you are not complaining about it. 

A few scenes go by, but not without your commentary. Usually your commentary gets a chuckle here and there or is ignored but these comments you make are not so forgettable. Not when you say things like 

“You should try giving Nat a dollhouse, Banner” to Bruce making him blush and everyone stare at you incredulously and some laugh

and

“If your laugh was my ringtone, I would have so many missed calls because I’d want to hear it all the way through” to Wanda when she laughs at your previous comment. This has her blushing now. You hadn’t realized you said that until her cheeks turned pink and Peter whipped his head around to look at you with wide eyes. You ignore him and continue not really knowing where this is coming from. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

Everyone is looking at you both now. She ducks her head and if she wasn’t blushing before, she is flushing now with all the attention. The movie is long forgotten. You pull her head to hide into your neck as you chuckle, “Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed. If anything, Captain USA over there should be embarrassed telling everyone his head injury was from a mission.”

Steve’s eyes widen but so do Pietro’s for a different reason as he rushes over to you.

“Tell me everything,” he says like a child on christmas.

“Alright, alright. I hurt myself in training, okay?” Steve interrupts.

“Well, that’s not that interesting,” Pietro huffs.

“He threw his shield and it ricocheted,” you stage whisper.

Pietro’s eyes shine with glee. Everyone turns to look at Steve to see if there is any truth to the story and his face gives him away. Everyone bursts out laughing and you feel Wanda laughing as well in your arms.

“How did you even know that?” Peter asks.

“Tinman has cameras everywhere. I bet he has it recorded somewhere.”

“Man, I have to see it!” Peter exclaims and has most people agree.

“Okay, I promise it’s not that funny, guys,” Steve tries to calm everyone down.

 “No, if you want funny, you should watch Guns and Arrows duet. What was it “Love is an Open Door?” you reply directing everyone’s gaze to Nat and Clint. Even Wanda pulls from you to look at them. 

“You showed her the video?” Natasha glares at Clint.

“No, it’s on the internet for anyone to watch as they please. Clint makes a great Anna by the way.”

“This is the greatest day of my life,” Pietro says as he pulls out his phone searching for the video. “I don’t know what put you in this mood, but thank you.”

“I’ve got a lot more too,” you say as you get up from the couch, legs feeling a little wobbly, “but that will have to wait til I get back. I drank the soda too fast trying to calm my nerves from sitting so close to your sister.”

“Why would you be nervous? It’s just Wanda,” Pietro says.

You gape at him in disbelief as if he had just insulted you and he might as well have. It is as if everything else just disappears.

“ ‘Just’ Wanda?! You say that like she isn’t the coolest person in the world! Which makes you cool by default because you’re her twin, so you should be thanking her.” 

You try to lean in closer to him as if to tell him a secret but your body is more swaying off balance than anything, “Don’t tell anyone but I get nervous around pretty girls. So of course I would be nervous around your sister. Also, don’t tell Peter cause he thinks he’s better than me at talking to girls and I refuse to admit he’s right.”

Pietro is wearing a shit eating grin as you move back. You don’t see everyone’s matching shocked faces as you turn. You turn too quickly and due to your weird state of being you fall face first into Peter. Luckily he catches you with ease. 

“That was a close one,” you giggle. “Thanks, Spider Boy.”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay?” Peter asks. Everyone rushes over to you both.

“I’m great,” you respond as helps you up. “Is the room spinning or is it just me?”

“You should sit down, Y/N,” Wanda looks at you with worry.

You frown, “Hey, what’s wrong? Did Pietro eat your sandwich again? It’s okay. I can make you another one righ-”

“PARKER! L/N!” 

Everyone’s heads turn to the voice coming from the elevator that could only be Tony’s.

“Do you think he knows about the spider?” you whisper to Peter as your vision goes blurry.

“How could you let the spider out! Do you even have a clue what it does?” Tony’s silhouette makes his way to you.

“So maybe it did bite you,” Peter looks at you guilty and picks you up as your knees give out again.

“Fucking RoboSpider,” is the last thing you say before everything goes dark.

***

When you finally come to, you are in your room in your pyjamas with a pounding headache. You slowly sit up on your bed. Your body is aching as well. Hearing your movement, Peter springs up from where he was sitting against the wall. 

He approaches you slowly and hands you a glass of water, “Hey, how are you feeling.”

“Like a damn Stark tech spider bit me after I told my friend not to mess with it,” you manage to glare at Peter after 

“Sorry. Are you mad?”

“Unless I got some cool spider powers out of it. Let’s see.”

You touch several objects around you exaggerating your actions so he clearly sees nothing is sticking to you.

“Nope, guess that answers that.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let it out. That’s my fault and I totally take the blame. I told Mr. Stark that too,” he says as he sits by your side.

You accept his apology. You sit there with him in silence for a few minutes letting everything that happened settle in your mind.

“Oh, god. Everyone is probably mad at me. Why couldn’t I stop talking?” You take a pillow and scream into it.

“It was the spider. Apparently instead of venom it has a sort of truth serum-like substance that works I guess but it works I guess more like alcohol,” Peter explains. 

“Remind me to never get drunk around any of you.”

Peter laughs and takes the pillow from you.

“If it’s any consolation, no one is mad at you. They, um, saw the video of you freaking out with the spider and say it’s even now.”

“Nooo,” you whine and Peter just chuckles beside you. His laughter dies down and he looks at you for a moment like something is pressing on his mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something else?” you start to panic. “Oh, my god, did I pee my pants?! I remember having to go to the restroom but I don’t remember going. Is that why I’m in my pjs? Did everyone see? Did Wanda see? I’m never coming out of this room.”

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe!” Peter places his hands on your shoulders and breathes with you. 

“I was going to say that Wanda is waiting outside to talk to you.”

Your eyes widen, “Somehow that’s worse! How do I begin to apologize? I embarrassed her the most out of everybody.”

“Just talk to her. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he says getting up. 

“Peter, don’t leave me yet. Peter!” you whisper yell as he makes his way to the door.

“You’ll be fine. We both know I’m better at talking to girls than you but I still have full confidence,” he replies cheekily as he exits leaving the door open.

“Asshole!” You call after him but to your misfortune Wanda walks in at the same time.

“Well that’s different. Usually I get a flustered greeting from you,” she says amusedly.

“S-sorry. That was for Peter. Not you. Never you. Unless, you like asshole -er being called asshole, but you probably don’t so… Hi, Wanda. What can I do for you?”

“There it is,” Wanda chuckles. You blush in return. She glances at the spot next to you where Peter had been sitting. “May I?”

“Yes,” you squeak. You clear your throat trying to sound less nervous. “Of course.”

You take a deep breath as she sits down closer than Peter had, your shoulders touching. You look at the door while she looks at you. You try to calculate how fast you would have to move to run out the door before she can close it with her powers. You know that even if you had Pietro’s speed, you still could not run fast enough to escape this conversation. It’s been a long time coming. It was time to own up and accept the feelings you tried to ignore. You would not run away this time. You will not deny what you’ve made blatantly obvious to everyone. You are in love with Wanda Maximoff. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Wanda asks.

“As if you don’t know. You’re the telepath here,” you turn your face to hers.

“You know I won’t do it on purpose. I’ll only hear thoughts that-”

“Are loud,” you finish for her. “I know. I also know my mind is practically screaming my thoughts at you.”

“I’d rather hear them come from your mouth,” she replies quietly.

“Before I go and ruin everything-”

“You won’t,” Wanda interjects and moves to hold your hand.

“Before I go and ruin everything,” you begin again, “I want to apologize if I embarrassed you yesterday or made you uncomfortable in any way. That being said, I cannot apologize for what I said because I meant every word and I refuse to take them back even if it makes us being around each other awkward or difficult. I just want to be honest.”

You squeeze her hand and take a deep breath. You look right into her eyes, your heart beating fast. You’re scared but also excited to finally say the words.

“I love you.”

The words are said with such confidence, you’re shocked. Maybe, you’re more shocked they didn’t come from you. It takes a moment for you to shake from your stupor. 

“I-I was going to say that.”

“You were taking too long,” she says as she leans in and kisses you. It takes you two seconds to get your act together and kiss her back. You close your eyes and your heart slows to its regular beating as a calm washes over you. All worries of unrequited feelings forgotten. There are no nerves to interrupt your actions. No doubts hold you back from kissing her harder as she moves to sit on your lap without breaking your kiss. When the need to breathe can’t be ignored, you pull back feeling light headed. 

She smiles at you and she is the most beautiful thing you have ever come across with her chest heaving, lips bruised, and strands of her hair falling in front of her face. You look at her adoringly as you push her hair back to see her whole face. 

“I love you,” you finally say.

“Wasn’t too hard, was it?” she laughs. 

You roll your eyes and you kiss her this time.

***

“So, how’d it go?” Peter asks a few hours later.

“Her hair is as soft as it looks.”

[cantaloupe-draws]

El Chico del Apartamento 512

Irl! Quackity x Female! reader

Summary: Nothing interesting ever happens in the apartment complex you live in. It’s the same old routine for you. Constantly turning down your neighbor and heading too and from your apartment. Well that’s up until you meet the very cute boy that lives in apartment 512 that you can never seem to gather the courage to talk too. To make make matters worse, he shows up to the cafe you work at

Switches from Reader’s s POV to Quackity’s POV at the very end

Genre: Song fic, fluff, somewhat cafe trope, strangers to lovers, crushes

Warnings: use of Quackity’s real name, creepy neighbor, cursing, and I think that’s about it

Song :El Chico del Apartamento 512 by Selena

Lyrics are in bold

—

Every day is the same down the corridor

Every day it’s the same old thing. I pass the same old doors as I make my way towards my own at the end of the corridor. Counting the room numbers as I pass.

“508, 509, 510,-“ I count and but as soon as I reach room 511 the door suddenly swings forward and I’m greeted by both a whistle and Chad, my neighbor.

“Y/n baby I keep on waiting for you to go on a date with me like you promised,” Chad said as he stood in front of his door frame, right arm resting on the door. “I need to show you around town,” he said with a smirk as he rested his face on his fist.

I scoffed as I moved away from him, “The only thing you need right now is an urgent shower. You stink like a pig and it’s absolutely disgusting. Besides, I never promised you anything” I said, trying to continue on my way, but Chad just kept getting more and more persistent with every rejection. His nagging was getting annoying.

“Come Y/n I’ll take you to this bar across town, I’ll even pay for your drinks” he kept persisting.

You would think that any decent guy that’s asking you out on a date would obviously pay for them himself. It’s a given but this is Chad we’re talking about. I was sick of his terrible date ideas and I had to face him once again.

“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this and how many times I’ll have to repeat it but, I don’t want to go on these stupids dates with you,” I told him as I rejected for what seemed to be the millionth time. And as soon as I said that the door beside us swung open.

Out came a young man wearing a navy blue cap that was covering almost the entirety of his hair but still managed to expose small tufts of dark brown hair from the sides. He looked up at the predicament Chad and I were both in and I was able to get a good look at him.

He had almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown color and had various beauty marks scattered around his face. He was attractive. Very VERY attractive. Oh no I’m in deep shit, I thought to myself as I quickly turned away when I felt that I was staring at him for too long. He turns away from us and heads towards the elevator doors.

I stayed stunned for a few moments then turned to face Chad again, completely red in the face, dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. But before Chad could get another word out I quickly rushed to my apartment and leaned my back against the door once I got inside. My heart is beating fast and my chest feels tight and constricted. I quickly got myself a glass of water from my faucet and though it helped with my fast heart rate, it didn’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. It might sound crazy but I think I’ve just met the man of my dreams.

Ever since then, I’ve made sure to take my sweet time walking down the corridor in hopes to see the cute boy from apartment 512 again. I’ve gone as far as to purposely make small talk and fake my interest in Chad in hopes to see him once more.

—

The boy from apartment 512 the one who makes my poor heart beat fast.

I walked into the elevator quickly pressing the button towards the first floor when I heard someone yell “HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!”

Loud footsteps came barreling towards the elevator. The yell of itself was enough to get my blood pumping but, to make matters much worse it was the cute boy from apartment 512 who was coming towards me.

“Thank you so much,” he said out of breath once he got inside. He offered me a smile of gratitude as the elevator doors closed. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cap this time but, instead he was sporting a grey beanie with red and blue stripes.

‘He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life’ I internally screamed to myself.

“Yeah, no problem” I responded quietly in hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

Even if there weren't more than two pieces of dialogue uttered between us, it was enough for my heart to beat faster than the speed of light.

—

The boy from apartment 512 who causes me to stutter like I've never done before.

I was manning the cashier station at the cafe I worked at. It was filled to the brim with people who were either typing away on their laptops or having a conversation with their friends.

But on this day, I had finally learned his name.

The busy atmosphere had me tackling customers' orders from left to right, “Hello, may I take your order?” I said as the next customer approached me.

But surprisingly enough, I was greeted by a familiar face.

The cute boy from apartment 512.

“Yes, hello I would like a caramel macchiato please,” he said and I felt my face go red instantly.

Oh my god, it’s him again, I thought as I knew that my brain would start to scramble once more. “O-of course. Coming right up, n-name?” I asked him as I completely stumbled on my words.

“Alex,” he said, “Okay A-Alex your name will be called out when your order is ready,” I tell him as I continue on with my work.

My coworkers had never seen me lose composure like that. It was clear that they would never let me live this down but even if I made a complete fool of myself in front of him, a huge part of me also just wants to keep talking to him both night and day.

—

But today I have finally truly decided to confess my love to him

I mentally prepared myself for the next time I interacted with Alex. I’ve finally decided that the next time I would run into him, I would finally ask to get to know him better in hopes that one day friendship will blossom into a wonderful relationship. A giddy laugh escaped me as I thought of the idea.

The cafe was busy as usual, with the same groups of people coming in. As it hit peak rush hour the line of customers just kept getting longer and longer and I was attempting to quickly attend to them to the best of my ability. Somehow, this was not enough to deter the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.

I knock on his door and I get goosebumps,

a blonde answers the door and my heart breaks

As I heard the bell above our door ring once more I raised my head and saw him, Alex. He was holding the door open for a woman as she walked in. They stood close together as they waited in line. This might seem like a bit of an exaggeration but when I saw them conversing together waiting in line the butterflies that were once fluttering disappeared and were replaced with dread. As my heart dropped, I realized that one thing was wanting to be friends with him but, that doesn’t change the fact that I had grown feelings for him. If he’s in a relationship then, what now? I felt lost as to how to handle this.

As the line in front of me kept getting shorter and shorter, I was becoming anxious as his turn was approaching. Though as it was almost the pair’s turn to order, Alex suddenly turns around and leaves the line and when his turn arrives he still wasn’t there. Despite this, I still went ahead and tended his apparent girlfriend.

I truly felt my heart breaking into pieces when suddenly she asked:

"Were you looking for my brother?"

“Hello, may I take your order?” I asked her, “Yes, can I have a vanilla latte please? But um, can we wait a couple of minutes for my brother? He went to the restroom and didn’t tell me his order,” she asked. Then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks, this was his sister. I’m so dumb, how could I’ve not realized the resemblance between them?? “Yeah that’s no problem” I finally responded.

Soon enough Alex came rushing towards his sister, “I’m so sorry for the wait” he said once he reached the both of us. “Just hurry it up. I’ll be waiting for you at the table” His sister said as she turned her back to the both of us.

Turning my attention to him as I rang up his order he then speaks up “You’re one of my neighbors aren’t you?” He asks me with a grin. I stop in my tracks as if I’m a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I am actually” I smile at him trying to muster enough courage to continue our conversation.

“I thought so, you were the one who held the elevator door for me the other day right? Also, the one who was yelling at my neighbor.”

My face instantly goes red as I thought back to the first time I met Alex. “In my defense he deserved it. He’s been harassing me ever since I’ve moved in” I shudder at the thought of Chad.

“Yeah I’ve realized that he really is a douche, he enjoys banging on the damn walls at three in the morning” he said as we laugh together at the stupid things Chad has done.

“Okay, okay you’re order will be out shortly,” I tell him with a smile, feeling my heart skip a beat. But Alex doesn’t move from the line.

“To be honest the whole reason I even came here wasn’t really for a drink or anything.” He said gazing towards the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This might be a bit sudden because we’ve barely met but I wanted to actually ask you for your number since you seem really nice and you’re very pretty. If you’re not interested then that’s fine, I’ll just take my drink and go” Alex said sheepishly.

After I heard these words I found myself dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. ‘DID HE JUST SAY THAT??? HOW DO I RESPOND???’ and from there my mind was absolutely speeding to the point where I just stood there. ‘HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!’ I yelled at myself, but yet still nothing managed to escape. Alex began to fidget more and more playing with his hands as I just stood there without a response.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go now.” Alex quickly said leaving.

—

Alex’s POV

‘SHIT. FUCK. MOTHERFUCKER. STUPID IDIOT.’

I cursed at myself while I walked towards my sister. Laying my head on the table, covering it in utter embarrassment.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” My sister said while casually scrolling through her phone. “And here you were boasting about how much of a smooth talker you were. You sir, just got rejected.”

“Will you shut up?” I groaned at her not raising my head. I’m already embarrassed out of my mind and she is not making it any better.

“Fine fine, you big baby I’ll go get our drinks and then you can go home and cry.” She said standing up as our orders were called.

‘God, why did I think it was a good idea to bring my sister along? How had it not crossed my mind? I hadn’t even given it a second thought as to what I was gonna do if I did get rejected. And to make matters much worse I just got rejected in front of my sister. I will never hear the end of it at family reunions. I’m already mentally digging my grave when I heard my sister come back.

“I think this one is yours” She said as she placed my drink in front of me. I raise my head slightly so I would be able to see what was in front of me. I looked at my cup as it said:

‘To the cute boy from apartment 512’

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx -Y/n’

—

A/N- So this is the first time I’ve ever wrote fan fiction before, I mainly stick to drawing so please excuse any mistakes I tried my best. But I hope you liked it over all. Also the lyrics in English don’t make as much sense as they do in Spanish, and it’s was bugging me so if they seem a bit odd you know why.

A special thanks to @tofuyami she really helped me with the brainstorming and editing process <3

@hungoverhellhound @cherrysirin @tofuyami @nealocus @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup @venusacrossthestars @galaxygnf

Also stand Selena always -🍈

[spnsisterimagines]

Mario Kart

Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.

Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader

Word Count - 1,911 words

"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday. 

She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.

He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.

"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.

Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch. 

"What is it, again?" he asked curiously. 

"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.

After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim. 

"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.

"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."

Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him. 

"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"

"What the hell?" Sam scoffed. 

"What?"

"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"

"Uh, yeah!" 

"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."

The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first. 

"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.

"You got a problem?" Sam asked. 

"No, but...why Luigi?"

"Who cares, I just chose him."

"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own. 

"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"

"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.

Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!" 

He selected Toad. 

"Why him, Jack?" she asked. 

"I like his hat."

Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap. 

"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him. 

"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.

She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads. 

And with that, they were off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"

"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."

Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."

Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map. 

"You got in my way!" Y/N sang. 

It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now. 

Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.

Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.

Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.

"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"

"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened. 

"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.

"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered. 

With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled. 

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"

"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself. 

"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet. 

"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"

"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front. 

By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred. 

"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably. 

"We lost..." Sam mumbled. 

"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.

"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"

"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"

"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.

"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller. 

"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed. 

"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.

"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."

"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.

"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"

With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping. 

There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.

[dangermousie]

Hello !

I was wondering whether you could rate and tell us of your top 5 favourite webnovels/cnovels of all time ?! (Sorry if this has already been answered lol😅)

Thank you, stay safe and have a nice day🖤

Awww, thank you and that is such a lovely ask!!!

From n1 to n5, here they are (they happen to be all danmei.)

1. The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) - my n1 forever and ever.

Taxian Jun, the horrific cultivation emperor of the world who razed cities and destroyed sects, is surrounded on his mountain. The righteous sects are terrified to confront him but tired of living, Taxian Jun consumes poison and dies by suicide at the age of 32. And opens his eyes as 16 year old Mo Ran, Mo Ran long before he became Taxian Jun, Mo Ran who is excited at a chance to save the one person he loved and lost. Oh, and to deal with his loathed shizun, the unapproachable and strict Chu Wanning, his past life’s biggest enemy.

I have no idea if it’s objectively the best on this list but it hits every trope I love, its bleak worldview (the world will change only incrementally but that’s enough, average person will not appreciate the sacrifice but it’s still worthwhile, and love is worth everything) mirrors mine, and the sheer complexity of the plot and cascade of plot twists each of which is insane and yet completely logical, is amazing (this is a rare novel where it’s even more fun to reread than read for the first time because you keep seeing all the hints and trail crumbs laid out that you did not see the first time.)

And the characters!!! I mean, this novel has multiple universes/timelines, a side trip to the Underworld AND the demon realm, a plot more twisted than a store’s worth of pretzels and yet the thing that hits me the most are the characters. Mo Ran is my favorite web novel character of all time and I love Chu Wanning so. All the secondary characters are wonderfully written (and some of them made me bawl) and they are all complex. My opinion of all of them changed many times over; the novel doesn’t make it easy to love some of them but then you do and it’s so worthwhile! That slow change is one of the delights of the novel - I started out disliking the unpleasant, superior Chu Wanning and cruel, callow Mo Ran and then I loved them so so hard and cried for them so so hard and was in awe of their heroism and sacrifice and selflessness and capacity to love.

Oh, and the fact that this novel does something almost impossible - it has its protagonist start out as so clearly irredeemable and then slowly and painfully and thoroughly redeems him (without ever letting the reader forget what it is he needs redemption for.)

Also, for a novel that made me cry so hard I felt ill, this book is just so damn funny with the most sarcastic sense of humor imaginable (the serious angst doesn’t even kick in until 90+ chapters!)

Anyway I should stop or I will write a dissertation. But this is the one web novel that I would put in my top 5 not just web novels but any novels in any shape or form. The plentiful trigger warnings are there for a reason so stay away if they are an issue, but if not, if anyone hasn’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life?!

2. Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - another novel by the author of 2ha. Clearly she just pushes all my buttons every time. This one is much shorter and has a plot that is twisty but less twisty than 2ha. Still, all that means is that intensity and the pain are more concentrated.

Aristocratic Mo Xi and former slave Gu Mang were both legendary generals of the empire and lovers. But Gu Mang betrayed the country and switched to the enemy. Now he is back as a peace offering by that country and Mo Xi has to deal with the fact that his feelings are as strong as ever.

This novel!!! So much pain and intensity!!! So many amazing plot twists and supporting characters. The same bleak world view, the same unjust society, the same protagonists doing right things despite the cost. Mo Xi’s intensity and inability to let go (he’s imprinted on Gu Mang and that’s it) is romantic, bone-shakingly intense, and tragic all at once. And oh Gu Mang! So many times I just wanted to reach into the book physically to protect him. The novel deals with unjust societies, memory versus personality, what it’s like to be good in a bad universe etc. And it both made me sob and giggle, repeatedly, and sold me on literally death-defying (but not honor-defying!) love.

Oh, and special shout out to the fact that like 2ha, you may start out hating some characters and end up a rabid fangirl (cough Murong Lian!)

3. Qiang Jin Jiu - a dense political tome that takes a while to get going but then it’s a runaway train.

In a fictional dynasty, Shen Zechuan, the only remaining son of a disgraced aristocratic family and Xiao Chiye, the younger son of a family of generals guarding the border join forces (and then something else) to get power and pull down the dysfunctional system.

This is so elegant and smart (a rare web novel I’d recommend to anyone who just loves solid period fiction) and you probably need a notebook to keep track of the politics and military strategy. These characters are very very smart not just because the author says so.

As to the characters, there is a large cast and I love many of them, but for me the novel is made by Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye. SZC is gorgeous and delicate and icy and can kill you before you have time to blink. Saddled with the sins of the family he had no pleasant interaction with, he claws his way out of hell (seeing the sinkhole he was trapped in, literally as well) to take down those who wronged him but also to amass power so all the tragedy and corruption won’t happen again and the whole rotten system comes crashing down. XCY is a military genius who is trapped as a hostage in the capital because the court doesn’t trust his family. He longs to return to the plains of home and to take his rightful place. The two men start out as bitter enemies, then reluctant and sniping allies, then as friends and eventually as one of the most gorgeous, tender, swoony OTPs.

Anyway this is one is a bona fide masterpiece, equal parts smart and emotionally intense.

4. Wu Chang Jie - are you an emotional vampire? I am and this novel is a banquet.

In a highly fantastical setting, we meet our protagonists - the sunny Xie Bian and the intense and surly Fan Wushe. Xie Bian is a human who assists his master in conveying souls to the underworld and making sure no mishaps happen. Bian is concentrated sunshine in human form and to meet him is to love him. When the novel opens, his drunk master brings back another human to be his shidi and assist with duties - said human is uncommunicative, intense and surly Wushe. Bian is excited to have a shidi but little does he know that a story dealing with the horrors of past lifetime is about to start.

Anyway, why WCJ? So many reasons. It has such a dark bleak worldview - this world is a horrifying system where powerful cannibalize each other’s cores for an impossible chance to ascend, where gods have sealed off their realm and all that’s left is neverending human misery and hell (the only way you’d see a deity is if they’d been sent down to suffer over and over and over), where even reincarnation doesn’t fix things and bad acts are often unpunished. And the novel then asks - is it worth being a good person in such a world? More, is it worth being a good person in such a world when nothing good has ever happened to you and you have been repeatedly betrayed due to your goodness? And the answer, on Bian’s part, is an uncompromising yes.

Ah yes, the other reason to love this novel - the protagonists and their fucked up fucked up relationship. Bian (who was Prince Ziheng in the past life) is so genuinely good. But he is that rare thing - good but not saintly, noble but not cloying. So much of the novel is his getting taken apart over and over and barely able to put himself back together every time but his soul is still as amazing as ever.

And then there is Wushe (who was Prince Zixiao in past life, Ziheng’s not-bio-related brother.) Wushe is not a good person. He is a monster. And he loves Bian/Ziheng more than his life and his soul and the entire world but he’s also the one who hurt him more than anyone else ever could and did it over and over. His love survived a literal century of torture in the worst kind of hell and refused the usual memory loss of new life. But it also humiliated and broke Ziheng down to his constituent parts.

One of the things that is so fascinating to me about this novel is the question of what can be forgiven/what should be forgiven/what kind of expiation is enough/can you ever love someone who you loved so much and then he hurt you so badly and is now repentant? And it never sweeps trauma under the rug or hand waves it away but deals with it head on.

If you want healthy relationships, you should stay far away from this novel but if intense insane ones with a feral barely human one capable of destroying the world leashed by love and guilt to the sane deeply good one is your bag, come right in.

There is also the world building and the fact that yes, the big fall out between Ziheng x Zixiao is based on not knowing all the facts but it’s not “why can’t you talk?! This is dumb!” But is totally in keeping with both events and their characters. It’s reasonable for Ziheng to do what he does and for Zixiao to misunderstand and decide Ziheng is now his biggest enemy (but still one he’s fixated on) and for Ziheng to never be able to clarify.

Anyway, once again this is trigger warning central so please heed those, but if they are no issue, this one is wonderful.

5. OK, this is hard and switches between Sha Po Lang, Heaven Official’s Blessing and The Golden Stage depending on my mood. So what the hell, I am gonna write about all of them.

Sha Po Lang - so smart and so much clever world building. There is enough politicking to satisfy a Qiang Jin Jiu fan, it’s steampunk, and our two protagonists - Gu Yun, the empire’s most powerful general, who’s loyal to the empire despite being badly wronged by it, and Chang Geng, a cursed prince with barbarian blood and horrifying childhood - are wonderful separately and together. This is a huge slow burn but it’s totally worth it! They fall in love with each other’s hearts and brains and ability as much as anything. (Yes, this is the one with the yifu thing. Gu Yun is made Chang Geng’s foster father when he rescues him and brings him back to the capital as a way to keep CG safe in imperial strife. They are 12 and 19 at the time so clearly it’s never a parental relationship.)

Heaven Official’s Blessing (TCGF) - I love it’s sprawling narrative and cast, I love its inventive setting and picaresque story. It’s hilarious and can make me cry. But the novel’s place on this list is due to Xie Lian who is part Kenshin part drama WWX part pure goodness wrapped in heartbreak and trauma wrapped in sunshine.

The Golden Stage - two smart and principled (yes, they both have principles different though they may be) men navigate their arranged marriage, their past friendship and their past break up, become a super couple (one of the healthiest danmei couples I’ve ever read and proves healthy doesn’t have to be boring), save the country and bring down the emperor or two and just generally this is my rainy day book.

I guess I didn’t write as much for the three n5 candidates as I did for 1-4 but my brain is beginning to curdle so...

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA: 

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

[skellebonez]

Because I'm sure this is going to be inevitable, how about some angst for the Chaos Trio (Mei, Jin and Yin)? With 61 and 52

Oh I have been looking forward to Chaos Trio angst since you sent me this, anon. Despite how they act in show... I think Jin and Yin are not exactly harmless. Especially if you mess with people they start to consider family.

The Cursed AU and the Chaos Trio in it come from @winterpower98!

Warning: blood and head injuries, enemy demons limbs (not detailed).

That is not a good hiding spot./I am a really bad actor.

Things had been going pretty well, all things considered. Jin and Yin had no problem getting Mei to join them in a little bit of... let's say "competitive insurance" as it were. They had to make sure they were secured in their own little tech related ventures, and after some financial setbacks they needed extra fallback. They’d planned the whole thing out with her help, more than 2 steps and everything! She was good at that.

The problem was that someone got a lucky hit.

They would have made it out with no problems, if they all hadn't decided going on Mei's motorcycle as a group (which, now that Yin thought about it, was probably incredibly dangerous and illegal with 3 of them on it... not that they cared about legality for themselves but somehow when it came to Mei that suddenly made them concerned). But nope. 1 bike. 3 people.

One lucky shot to the rear tire.

The three of them went flying, Mei landing very impressively on her feet whole Jin and Yin bounced on a bush and thanked anyone listening that demons were sturdier than humans. They didn't thank anyone for the pieces of bike that came flying at them all, and they were certain that they heard a piece make contact with something hard, maybe the nearby light pole, but couldn't be sure.

By the time they looked up they just knew they had a group of very angry demons that were pissed they stole and then wiped their code for... something, didn't matter to the twins what it was. They just wanted their competition out of the way. For solely selfish reasons. Nothing else. Not like they wanted it to see what it was and maybe figure out a counter attack so that certain overpowered people with monkey motifs would have an easier time in the future.

Not a chance.

As they fought off the attacking demons they insisted to themselves they didn't care that much.

"That is not a good hiding spot!" Jin yelled across the battlefield as Yin ducked behind crates. "Just chuck it for now and beat em with the blunt end of something else!"

"Just give me 2 seconds, I can fix it!" Yin yelled back, trying his best to reassemble a part of his sword hilt that had broken off.

"Come on, these guys ain't so tough!" Mei laughed out, easily dodging projectiles and backsliding and slicing and dicing as she went. No one was actually killed, but they were lucky because the only reason for that was the young woman wasn't exactly out for blood. They'd be feeling every single hit well into morning though! She was doing much better than the two of them. "Grab a pipe or something! Wish I had MK's magic building power though, I'd rather not be here all-YIN!"

The younger twin looked up from where he had been crouched, eyes widening as he saw the form of a much larger demon hulking over him and ready to batter him with a club.

Things had been going well. All things considered. Then someone got a second lucky hit.

Right as Mei dove in to push the younger silver twin out of the way.

For a second the fighting stopped. There was just the sound of wood hitting hard plastic and fiberglass as the club was sliced in half by her sword and the lopped off half continued it's trajectory and slammed into Mei's head to lead to her crumbling on top of Yin. Jin stood on too of a pile of crates, watching as a line of red seeped through a crack in her visor and stained the white of her suit.

And then his entire vision was red as he lunged at the demon and sliced, sending his arm flying in the opposite direction.

The demon screamed, holding the stump that was his arm from the elbow down, backing away as quickly as he could. "W-what the hell!?"

"Mei," Yin said softly, carefully clicking the emergency release button to make her helmet digitize away. Her eyes were closed, blood dripping from a slice running along her scalp... but as far as he could tell it was from part of the helmet being cracked and cutting her. She was most likely knocked out from the impact, breathing odd but steady in her unconscious state. "You... we're going to get you to the hospital."

His tone hardened as he carefully laid her on the ground, standing tall as he grabbed his broken weapon and a nearby piece of broken steel.

"You. Are going. To pay for that," Yin said coldly, stance no longer lose and half playful as it had been the whole battle. His stood tall, eyes wide and cold and the demons surrounding them felt a chill run down their spines.

Jin stood in front of him, blood from the other demon splattered across his face and chest in a stark contrast to his orange visage.

This... this wasn't the pair of Gold and Silver Demons they had heard about before. They were known for not taking almost anything seriously, making bad deals and pacts and weird blood oaths they wasted on bizarre favors. They were known for being good at tach but not much else, most demons in the area knew vaguely of their history with the Monkey King but even that ended in failure. Their plans were half baked, goofy, and lately they'd heard they'd gotten roped in with the Monkey King's successor and renewed flame of the Six-Eared Macaque.

The two standing before them did not look like the demons they'd heard about.

Mei hadn't wanted to seriously hurt anyone. The demons heard her yelling as much on the battlefield. But now Mei was hurt.

And the twins did.

It happened fast. They wanted to get it over with quickly. Mei had also not wanted to kill anyone at the very least the twins could do was keep up their promise from earlier in the day to avoid that. And they did.

That didn't mean there weren't lost limbs. Hands and arms. A leg or two. More than a couple eyes were lost. Someone lost an ear. Another a tail and horn.

Injuries they could recover from meant as warnings.

All it took was 3 minutes and the entire storage area they crashed in was a mix of grey and brown and red. Demons holding their injuries or running off.

The one who had attacked Yin and hurt Mei stood in awe and fear, looking down at the smaller twins who has decimated an entire group so fast.

"I-how!?" He yelled, backing up slowly. "This isn't possible, you're not this strong!"

"Who told you that?" Yin asked slowly, tilting his head and watching as the demon realized... he'd never heard they couldn't fight. "We don't fight like this because we don't want to. Never meant we can't."

"Why?"

"We are really bad actors," Jin said, wiping the blood off his weapon on an unconscious demon's shirt. "Why bother trying to hold back when we can just hide it by not trying?" He turned to the demon, glowering coldly as he watched his brother pick Mei up carefully. "Tell anyone who asks nothing. We'd like to keep it that way. Unless you want a round two where someone else doesn't hold us back."

And then they were gone.

~

"What in the actual hell happened?" Macaque asked in an even tone. Practiced even. A dangerous even.

"Well-" "You see boss-" "we kinda-" "-there was-"

Jin and Yin tried to think of a reasonable excuse, faltering as everything they thought of sounded worse and worse in their heads.

The two sat in Mei's hospital room, towels draped around their shoulders. They’d been smart enough to stash Mei's bike somewhere safe and wash off in the ocean before coming to the hospital, less covered in demon blood meant less scared humans when they rushed in with Mei in tow, and it was easy to make the nurses believe them.

Simple bike accident, friend hurt, help please.

With Macaque staring them down with his patented death glower, shadows growing and warping around the room in response to him, it was infinitely harder.

Of course Mei's emergency contact was MK. Of course MK could call Macaque before her parents (who were apparently on their way back from some kind of dragon family business trip when they learned). Of course Macaque would show up almost immediately and begin asking questions.

"It was my fault," Mei chimed in, voice slightly off from having awoken with a nasty concussion. "I thought it'd be fun to go on a joy ride late at night, I've done it before without issues! But, uh... I've never had two passengers before... and we hit something. Don't be mad at them?"

Macaque looked like he believed Mei as much as he believed Tang would lose interest in the Monkey King and switch his field of study to obscure methods of basket weaving. Which is to say: he didn’t. But he sighed, giving Mei a small smile as the shadows returned to normal.

"Ok," he said softly, tone much more gentle with the dragon descendant as he reached out to brush loose hair out of her face. "I won't be mad at them. I'll be very disappointed-" his tone hardened for a second at those words as he turned to the twins with a glower again. "-but I won't be mad. Do you need anything?"

"Maybe a candy bar from the vending machines outside?" Mei asked with a smile.

"Sure," Macaque laughed and shook his head, moving to the corner of the room. "I'll be right back."

He sunk into the shadows, a cool trick that the twins would always be impressed by, and they breathed a sigh of relief at knowing they were alone. For now.

"You didn't have to do that," Jin said, frowning at Mei in concern. Maybe it was just because he was now the eldest in the room, but some kind of protective feel pulled at him.

"I know," Mei said with a tired laugh, laying back into her pillow. "But you guys are like... my bros. I gotta stand up for my bros."

And that made both Jin and Yin pause. They looked at each other, eyes widening as they both came to a realization that was probably a very long time coming at that point.

"Yeah..." Yin said, a soft smile forming on his face. "We'd do the same for you... you know, if you didn't take that hit for me you probably would have kicked everyone's ass way better than us! We barely got out by the skin of our teeth!" A full truth and a blatant lie, but he hoped Mei wouldn't pick up on that second part.

"You know it, boi!" She didn't.

It was odd for him in particular. Yin had never really thought of himself as an older brother before.

First time for everything.

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - i.

NOW PLAYING : I n t e r l u d e [J. Cole]

cw; name calling, blood, mentions of murder, major spoilers

“Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.”

Despite the red-light district thriving through the night, it looked just as beautiful during the early morning. Yn was roaming the streets on her pedal bike for the first time since winter break as she plotted different ways to surprise her big brother at his newly opened bike shop. She had already purchased his favorite breakfast meal from the little café she worked at, and all that she was left to do was see the said man. Getting out of thoughts and returning to reality, she stopped at the side of the traffic light to press the ‘crossing’ button and to text Draken to make sure he was at work before she made the trip.

“hey there pretty girl, ya wanna come ride something more interesting than the little kiddie bike yer on right now?” some bleach blonde junior high kid called out to her, smirking as he man spread and took up most of the space on the park bench. “I know ya hear me pretty girl,” he leaned and rested his elbows onto his knees, “maybe ya want me to come over and beg for yer attention, huh? Want me to come and make ya listen to me?”

She scoffed and waited for the light to signal for her to cross, but its as if the gods wanted to punish her and traffic kept flowing out of her favor. Getting restless, she pocketed her phone and tapped on her bar handles in hopes of the cars to all be generous and let her through; of course, this did not happen and the young fuck boy in training had began to approach her alongside his friend who were hyping him up and recording the event.

“You might be older than me,” he walked up behind her and kicked her bike tire before circling around and leaning against the basket in the front, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I hit girls.” Yn had to refrain from spitting in his face because Draken always said ‘never start anything with others first, let them choose their fate.’ In other words, big bro just didn’t want her to put herself at risk due to minor inconveniences that were presented towards her.

Just as the light switched from a hand to a walking figure, yn politely smiled at the boy in hopes of him getting the hint that she did not wish to engage with him anymore, but – of course – that was just asking too much of him. He turned back and looked at the sign noticing it was their turn to cross, and he surprisingly moved out the way. Yn smiled realizing that her brother did know it best when he said that the ‘dumb young boys will leave you alone after they realize you’re not going to give them the time of day,’ and she moved to pedal across the cross walk with a large smile.

However, big bro’s words are not the golden rule amongst men and the boys did not leave her alone; in fact, they decided to run at her hit the back tire with a bat and caused her to lose control and fall in the middle of the walkway. The drivers were kind enough to wait for her to get up and cross the street with scraped knees and a dirty pull over. She turned back to glare at the boys, but their backs were already facing her as they leisurely walked away laughing. This wasn’t going to ruin her day, after all, she still gets to surprise her brother with her presence and might even have the chance to see his hot amazing friends whom you grew up around. After realizing that the former gang members might all be hanging around her brother’s workplace, she got up with a huge smile and skipped the rest of her way on the crosswalk. Once to the other side, yn hopped back on her bike without checking her bloodied shins and made her way on the quickest route to the shop.

Glancing up at the familiar billboards that danced in sky and looking down at the alleys being populated with street cats and new gen delinquents, she realized she was only a block down from seeing the man who has always put her first and raised her to strive to her fullest potential. Smiling as closed her eyes for just a second - she swears it – to bask in the excitement and next thing she knew, she was on the ground covered in coffee. She could hear faint voices but those were cancelled out by her skin screaming at her to get up and quickly remove any rubble and dirt that had entered. Moving to get up, she took note of blood staining the concrete and became slightly alarmed.

“Oi, you dumb bitch, you should watch where you’re going,” a man’s voice echoed through her head, “you got a drip of blood on my Milano’s.” Trying to get up, yn went to wipe her eyes, but as soon as she lifted her hands, she felt them share the similar sting that her knees and chin felt. “You deaf or something? Ha, lucky for you I’ll take the food in your basket and whatever is in your wallet as an exchange. Pin code for your card must be included, love.” Hearing as she was about to get stripped dry of her hard-earned cash, she shot a glare up at the well-dressed man’s body just to be sent in a more state of terror when she noticed the tattoo that decorated his temple; it was the infamous Bonten symbol.

“I say we just take her to the back alley and make her pretty throat match the rest of her bloody body,” she turned and seen a pinkette with long hair and two scars that sat on each corner of his ?beautiful? mouth. to be completely honest, he would have been very much at the top of her most attractive list if he weren’t just plotting to slice her neck right in front of her; she wondered if he ever heard of the Element of Surprise. “She hasn’t even apologized yet and it’s been at least 45 seconds, that is pretty rude don’t you think, Mochi-kun?”

“It is very rude,” the built man with slicked back blonde hair spoke up, “do you want me to take her in the alleyway?” He squatted down to meet yn at eye level and she didn’t know if it was the fact he was able to stare into her soul with lifeless eyes or the extremely structured shoulders that could break her bones if he had tackled her, but she genuinely felt that she was going to die. “You seem like a worthless kill if I am being honest, and I don’t like claiming meaningless prizes. So, if you want to live,” ‘Mochi-kun’ reached over and gripped her bloodied chin, “or are you going to be good dog and run your pockets?”

She couldn’t believe it; for all her life, death threats have never been directly shot at her as Draken and the others have always been there. Of course, she emptied her pockets as quick as she could and began wiping the man’s Milano’s with her cloth lens wipe.

“Good girl,” the man with the temple tattoo said mockingly, “but I’m gonna need you to put your pretty mouth to work since you don’t know – or rather – you act like you don’t know how to speak.” She felt her eyes began to fill with tears as she looked up from the ground; they mistook it for fear, but yn was just angry she was powerless to them. “Don’t worry, I like older women, so I won’t need your mouth for that,” he laughed loudly in her face, “lick the blood off.” Her glare returned and tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Be a good bitch, and lick my –“

“What are you idiots doing?” a man with a long pink and purple mullet-like hairstyle came from behind her. “Are you guys bullying young kids again? Oh, wait, you’re not a kid.” He stared at you through his multi-colored bangs and tilted his head, “Why are you all bloody like a sewer rat walking through the back alley of feral cats?” he pushed the girl’s forehead back, straining her neck to hold eye contact with him, “you’re not some whore, are you?” He craned his neck back to the man who has been treating her like a dog, giving yn a full view of his Bonten symbol tattooed across the middle of his pretty throat. “Neh, Koko, you do realize that if you want a girl’s attention you can’t just rough her up in hopes that she takes you to bed.” He turns back to yn before sighing, “You’re cute,” for some reason she felt herself swelling with pride, “but you’re not my type,” – well there goes her ego.

“Oh what-fucking-ever,” ‘Koko’ mumbled as he gently pushed her away, “I didn’t want some inexperienced princess anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.” He quickly bent down and took all the cash from her wallet and began to slide out the card, but a baton quickly swatted at his hands.

“Your obsession with money is crazy, but you can’t take hers if you still owe me 45,000 yen.” Yn turned to see a man with pushed back purple and pink hair holding the offending stick. Unlike the other members, his tattoo was in the same place as the mullet man – maybe they took over the organization after her other big brotherly figure, Mikey, left. She drank in his appearance, and although he was thinner than the other members, something about him just screamed ‘stay away;’ but for the first time in her life, yn didn’t want to listen to such obvious red flags. “Oh no, you’re bloodied up like a rat –“

“I have already said that nii-chan,” the mullet head said, “what do you say? Wanna jut get rid of her like Sanzu-san suggested?” The now known younger brother asks. She began to tremble but not out of fear, no, out of a weird feeling at the pits of her stomach that came about as soon as the stranger stumbled onto the scene. “Oi,” the younger brother flicked your chin, reminding your body that it is supposed to be in a state of stinging pain, “staring is rude. What are you – a deer in headlights?”

“Now, now, Ridou,” the man continued to meet yn’s gaze as he motioned for her to take his hand, “where’s the fun in hurting a good little lamb? Especially one who shows that she knows to yield to her Sheppard.” Against her better judgement, yn took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “Look at you go,” he smirked and scanned over her body through hooded lids, “such a strong little girl you are standing on wobbly legs after the big bad wolves tried to tear you down.”

She should feel offended, mocked, and appalled, but she couldn’t – not with the voids he called eyes staring at her. “T-thanks,” she weakly mumbled as she began to gather her bag back together and prop her bike back up, “I know you guys said you needed the pin number, but I can’t give it to you.” She hung her head and balled her fists; she was waiting for someone to hit her but that never came. Looking up she sees the ‘older brother’ standing in front of the brooding ‘Koko’ and the other members just staring around the streets.

“That’s fine, little one,” the older brother said, “we don’t need your card. Koko here will be fine with just the cash. But I will need payment of the sort since I did calm the bully over here, don’t you think?” He smiled at yn, quickly scanning her student ID and then turning back to her face, “You’re 18, yeah?” she nodded, and he smiled lazily, “Good, give me something of yours that is valuable. I want to talk to you again and if I take it, you are going to want to take it back, correct?”

“I – um,” she began to go through the bag and seen that the only things she deemed valuable were her phone and the spare keys to her room in the brothel, “all I have is my k-keys and phone.” She huffed out in hopes that he took mercy and just let her go already; if she kept in his presence any longer, she feared that every piece of knowledge on common sense would fly out of her brain.

“Well, no one wants a pedal bike here and your phone and keys wouldn’t be of use to me,” he spoke in a rather degrading tone, “how about, you give me that pretty little necklace that you’re wearing… hmm, ... oh! Give me your number as well. After all, how are you going to know when I want you to take back your precious gems without being able to plan a proper date?” His smile was too secretive to be comforting, but this was probably the best way to saving her own life.

“Okay,” she replied quickly, “just please, don’t break the necklace…” her hands shook as she unclasped it and placed it into the man’s hands. “That’s a gift from my brother, so I promise you I’ll come and get it whenever you ask.” Yn put her hands on her bar handles before straddling the bike.

“Thank you,” he smiled and put away the baton before fishing out his phone, “put your number in it and call to make sure you’re not fucking with me, yeah?” He tilted his head and softly hummed at the soft sound of her phone vibrating in her bag. “Thank you, yn-chan.”

“No, thank you,” she lightly coughed and waited for him to look back up at her after saving all her contact information. Once he finally looked up, she flinched but proceeded to stare him dead in his lovely irises, “May I have your name… if ya don’t mind that it.”

“Haitani Ran,” the older man laughed and shifted his weight onto his hip, “and I expect you to text me whenever you get the chance.” He turned around and the other members began to follow. For what felt like an eternity, yn finally let out a small breath, well at least until he had turned back around. “Oh!” Haitani-san smiled at her, “Leave it under ‘Ran-senpai’ so your brother and friends don’t get spooked. Don’t want the fun to end before it has barely even started.” With that, he turned back around and waved half-assed before disappearing into the distance.

Yn decided to just to walk the rest of the block because riding the bike has been nothing but bad luck so far. Once at the shop, she sighed and made her way to the back where she knew would be unlocked because no one dared walk up into her big brother’s place of work. Parking her bike, she quickly takes her phone back out with 3 texts from an unknown number.

Unknown: hey little lamb, its yer senpai <3

Unknown: yer probs with yer bro so ill call you later, mm around midnight so stay up

Unknown: text me back soon or I mite accidentally break your pretty necklace and youll have to  owe me a big favor for ignoring me :)

“what the actual fuck,” yn whispered as she quickly began typing away. She didn’t know if she be upset with his back-to-back messages treating her like she was his property, or mad at herself for feeling this little need inside of her that wants to please him. Yes, all of the gang members were extremely hot and DANGEROUS, but something about ‘Ran Senpai’ gave her the cold chills; what made it worse was the urge that she possessed to go against all her morals for him.

Yn: hi! Im sorry,, I was just trying to get to my brother’s shop

Yn: wait,, do you know draken-nii?

She tilted her head and rocked lightly from side to side, waiting for a reply instead of going in and surprising her brother like she initially had planned to do. While she waited, she changed his name to ‘Tani Senpai <3’ with a small smile as she imagined Draken freaking out over the fact that a boy has caught her interest. Of course, she wasn’t romantically interested in the man, but his face isn’t one that she would mind seeing from time to time – at a safe distance that is.

Tani Senpai <3: mhm, some good and bad history

Yn: oh?

Tani Senpai <3: you do know curiosity killed the cat, right little lamb?

Yn: you flirt a lot

Yn: how old are you ?

Tani Senpai <3: 28 years young bb

Yn: youre ten whole years older than me?? You look so,, young.

Tani Senpai <3: I have aged, but trust me, I am rather youthful in different aspects.

Yn: do you by chance,, like memes?

Tani Senpai <3: ofc, especially hornee ones.

Yn: haha.. well I gotta go,

Tani Senpai <3: mhm go ahead baby, remember. Midnight <3

 Yn: aye aye captain.

She felt another vibration as she placed her phone in her backpack, but she was finally able to see and surprise her brother and that is exactly what she planned to do. Quietly pulling the door open, she noted that the music blaring and Draken’s back was to her as he was fixing up what looked like Pah-chin’s old CBX 400F. It was a cute sight if she was being completely honest; her brother rebuilding his old friendships. She seen the other boys’ bikes lined up too: Draken’s Zephyr, Mitsuya’s little Impulse, Kazu-kun’s Rocket, Mikey’s CB250T, and even the late Baji’s Goki.

“Pah-san still has the old thing,” she decided to speak up instead of tackling her brother, “are you guys gonna give it to some younger kids?” right as she finished her sentence, draken whipped his head back and went to cradle yn to his chest. Suddenly, all of the stinging on her skin had vanished and she was giggling while circling her arms around her brother’s waist. “How are you ya wannabe greaser?”

“I’m doing fine you idiot, how are -,” draken lifted his head to get a good look at her, but all his excitement drained as he was met with a sight of dried blood and scraped skin. “Who the fuck did this to you? I’ll kill them right fucking now, what the hell happened yn?”

“DRAKEN,” he stopped and stared at you expecting an answer, “I tired riding my bike down the big hill by the park and this happened, okay? I’m okay.” She stared at him with a soft expression and relaxed once she noticed he slumped in his posture, “I know you said to stop riding down the hill because it’ll bite me in the ass one day, so I guess today was the day.” Yn laughed and draken tried to fight the small smile that was threatening to fall on his lips.

“Go sit on the counter and watch the store for a bit, I’m gonna get the first aid kit in the back and I guess I’ll patch ya up.” With that, he disappeared into the office hall and left yn to be lost in thought. She had never lied to Draken this heavy before. It might not seem like a big deal to others, but she just told her brother she fell down a hill instead of saying that some /Bonten/ men were just threatening her life 20 minutes ago and they treated her like a dog; well, she didn’t feel that bad anymore, considering that he would have gone and wasted his life against men that played dirty. “Get out of your head, I’m back.” Draken teased her before getting an alcohol wipe and wiping the dried blood, “don’t squirm too much, loser. iss’ gonna sting a bit tho, so try to not hit me.”

It went a lot more smooth than she had expected, yeah, the cleansing wipe and ointment burned, but now she was bandaged and able to not worry about even more blood staining her clothes til they go to the brothel.

“Here,” he handed her a spare shirt and some sweats, “I don’t like seeing you all beat up, makes me want to fight the side walk. You know where the bathroom is.” Draken slightly punched her shoulder before heading back to seat near the bike, “once you’re done, we can go meet the boys for breakfast. I bet yer hungry.”

“Yer the best, ya know that,” yn smiled before taking her bag and clothes to the bathroom. “It won’t be long,” she turned before entering the hall, “make sure the cute one is there!”

“Stop trying to fuck my friends,” Draken called out in an irritated tone as she walked away laughing. It was an ongoing joke yn had played on her brother, where she would pretend to have some crush on his friends and it’d just make him twenty times more protective around them; he never knew if she was serious or not so he had to be cautious.

Once in the bathroom, yn quickly changed into the clothes her brother had lent her and stared at herself in the mirror. She laughed when she realized she kind of looked like one of the main characters from her favorite psychological thrillers. Yn took out her phone and decided to message Mana, mitsuya’s younger sister and yn’s best friend from home, with a picture of her bandaged state and the caption, ‘take out my ankles next time, daddy <3.’ It honestly surprised her to get a reply that fast as Mana was always one to sleep until noon. She didn’t know what scared her more, the fact she sent it the wrong person, or the fact the person knew exactly what she was talking about.

Tani Senpai <3: you look hot like that

Tani Senpai <3: like being called daddy, but in this context arent I supposed to call you mommy or something LMAO

Tani Senpai <3: I can break your ankles with my baton

Tani Senpai <3: make you my little housewife and call you ‘Bum.’

Tani Senpai <3: don’t worry, I won’t turn into ashes ;) <3

“Yn,” Draken called out, “you okay in there?”

“Don’t worry about it nii-Chan,” she giggled in hopes of masking her terror, “just bumped into a wound. I’ll be out soon.”

“Okay,” draken slipped a pad and a tampon under the door, “don’t know if you might want these -,”

“LEAVE YOU IDIOT,” yn genuinely laughed and heard draken’s heavy chuckles through the door, “thank you though, I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll be outside on the bike, bubs.”

After hearing draken’s foot steps vanish, she quickly began typing.

Yn: that wasn’t meant for you -

Tani Senpai <3: shame, I love killing stalking

Yn: wait,, really? 👀

Tani Senpai <3: mhm,, we’ll talk about it later tonite ‘bum ;)

Yn: .. deal :)

Despite every shitty thing that has happened to her since she got back, it felt as if they were supposed to meet; fate as one would call it. She was offering herself to one of the most dangerous men who rule the underworld, and she didn’t even find herself to minding.

masterlist | next

an: hi hello, hope yer all eating well :)

ryozoro©

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 14 - A Different Point of View

Summary:  Things that happened that you weren't aware of.

Word count: 9,163 words

A/N: Thank you for being so patient with me. I struggled with this chapter due to its nature. I had to further dive into Bruce and Dick's character that I wasn't too familiar with.2020 was a very tough year for me. I lost lots, learned lots. And I thought that the quarantine would mean I would write more. But I was wrong. Life hit me hard, and I stopped doing a lot of things I used to enjoy.Despite being virtually absent last year, you guys stuck by me anyway. Thank you. I love you all for that.Special thanks to my two beta readers. You know who you are. Here it goes.

(i recommend you guys read previous chapters to refresh coz I had to lol)

Ao3

Masterlist

The roles that people played were false- a mere necessity for their career or survival. Everyone was playing a role, whether it was of their own accord or not.

Bruce Wayne was a role- superficial, fake, yet vital to Gotham. Batman, on the other hand, was a completely different role, born out of exigence and a sense of justice.

Dick Grayson, however, genuinely enjoyed playing his role.

Nightwing felt right to him. Being a police officer felt right to him. And especially, if not ultimately, being an older brother.

He listened to the dial tone of his phone, which rung for a few seconds before you finally picked up.

“Hey,” Dick heard your voice, the usual chirp absent that day.

Dick frowned to himself. Bruce was right about you being troubled after all.

“Hey, sis!” he forced the concern out of his voice. “You busy?”

“Nah, I’m just going over some old case files. What’s up?”

Dick leaned back into his sofa. Aside from the traffic blaring outside, the silence in his apartment made it easier for him to concentrate on analysing your speech patterns.

“Can’t I call just to ask how you’re doing?” he teased, easing into the conversation.

Everyone had always told him how he was natural at talking.

“You already called last week…”

Dick smiled to himself. He could already picture your narrowed eyes regarding him with suspicion.

It was good that you were always on your feet, but it was becoming borderline unhealthy. It reminded him of Jason and how he was always so guarded .

He pushed the memory away.

“I can’t call you again?” he rolled his eyes at no one.

“Bruce put you up to this,” you accused.

That’s because he’s worried about you, kid.

If only you knew how much Bruce had changed for you. Dick was glad that you were being loved by Bruce, yet he still couldn't help but feel slightly bitter that he never got that kind of treatment from his father- not the same treatment he gave you.

But he would rather die than admit his selfish thoughts to anyone.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “He was worried about you after last night.”

“I’m fine, Dick,” you insisted.

How many times has he heard those very same words from Jason?

“Well, if you’re not, then you can talk to me,” he offered.

A short pause.

Your response would be what differentiated you from his late brother.

“Actually, yeah,” you admitted.

There it was. No matter how stupid he knew it was for even comparing the two of you, he found that he always had to remind himself not to.

“How did you deal with it? Did it affect you?”

Dick told you his own experience with gore and dead bodies, how he overcame it, how he coped. There was silence after, and he just somehow knew what you were going to ask next.

“How did, uh, he deal with it?”

Your voice came in a whisper, hesitation evidently clear.

Dick was expecting it, but his heart still sank. He knew how everyone acted when Jason was brought up in conversation- he was guilty of reacting as well. He also knew how you were smart enough to avoid that topic.

It had been years. They should all have moved on, because Dick knew that they were also hurting you.

“He came to me as well.” Dick recalled Jason’s hesitant voice over the phone, never directly saying what was wrong, just rambling about things other than what was really going on in his head.

“Then he gradually called less and less when he learned how to deal with it himself.”

The day Dick noticed it, he was happy for Jason, but a small part of him was saddened that his little brother no longer needed him.

“I’ll have to look for that cognitive therapy, then. Thank you for calling, Dick. Talking to you helped.”

Did it really? He noticed your voice had changed again. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone on about Jason like that.

“No problem, kid. Call me if you need to talk, okay?”

The familiar beep left him isolated with his thoughts, wondering if you would trail in Jason's footsteps.

When will the day come when you eventually stop calling altogether?

***

He felt indebted to his city- the city he loved. The city he hated. The city that robbed him of his childhood.

He felt indebted to his family- the family he would give up everything for, the family he couldn’t stop hurting.

And he was sorry. God, he was sorry.

Sorry for everything he’s said and done- or didn’t do. But he still couldn’t stop. Because he didn’t know how.

Yet, no matter how much he claimed to love his family, the problem with Bruce Wayne was that he always expected them to be the people he wanted them to be.

Never like himself, though. No, he would never want them to turn out like him.

“That’s an order. Stay-”

The silence that followed the click in his ear represented the first time you had ever disobeyed a direct order.

It was a little late on your side. Dick and Jason had begun to disobey him within their first six months in uniform. But you had always been obedient- which made it easier for Bruce to trust you in the field.

This first time came as an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. And Bruce was…

Disappointed.

He grit his teeth when he saw you on the ground with the warehouse burning behind you. If he had just been a few seconds late, would you be in the fire, too?

“I almost had him.”

Bruce didn’t miss the wince of pain as you got up to your feet.

He had heard those exact words before countless times from J- no.

Bruce shoved that thought away.

“He would have gotten away, and we wouldn’t have known who it was that did this,” you argued, brows drawn together in a frown, mouth downturned. Your respiratory rate was high, and you were having trouble breathing.

When did you grow so tall? So confident?

Bruce silently pointed to the active security camera he noticed the minute he arrived and saw your expression fall- only for a second.

“I still think I made the right decision,” you insisted.

“You disobeyed a direct order.” He hated his own voice. The way he spoke sounded too militant.

“I acted how I saw fit,” you continued, “You always say to follow my instincts-”

“Not if your instincts contradict my orders.” He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He thought he had changed. But no, Bruce was still a dictator.

“Wow. Just- wow.”

He could see the little twitches of annoyance within the disbelief on your face. He understood it completely.

You were walking away, clutching onto your side and weakly limping to your bike, adamant on not seeking his help.

He hated seeing you injured, in pain. It was his fault. If only he was faster, he could have stopped Red Hood from beating you up. If only he predicted it sooner, if only-

“I’ll be heading back now.”

He missed what you had said before that.

“Robin,” Bruce forced out, “Have Alfred check your injuries.”

He should have been there.

When you drove away, he lingered at the crime scene.

Bruce flipped a switch in his helmet, and his lense changed. Non-organic material lighted up bright white. He noticed a fractured piece of shrapnel lying on the ground, less than a centimeter long.

He picked it up and placed it into a test tube from his belt. Switching his view to normal, he saw that it was red, maybe made from fiberglass. He could only deduce that it was a piece of Red Hood’s helmet.

Despite Bruce’s frustrations at you for disobeying him, he felt a swell of pride. You probably landed a hit hard enough to crack the helmet just a little bit that you yourself probably didn’t even realise it.

He shone a UV light on it. A small portion of it glowed.

Bruce had always been numb when he played investigator so that he would remain impartial and objective. That was true justice.

But when he pocketed the evidence and sped to the Batmobile, he felt something he had never felt before.

Against all logic and rationality, he found himself dreading to uncover who the blood belonged to.

***

Bruce never drank his sorrows away. It was dangerous, too easy to develop an addiction to. He could have easily drowned in alcohol at any given chance, like when he thought of his parents, or when he thought-no, knew- he wasn’t enough.

But no, he only restricted his drinking for leisurely activities. He was disciplined. It was the reason why he was who he was.

However, in that moment, staring at the results of the DNA analysis after hours of anxious waiting, he wished he allowed himself a drink.

Not because he was distraught, not because he was in grief- but because he just didn’t know what to feel.

It wasn’t numbness. It was just plain confusion, an internal tornado of emotions whirling inside him all at once.

Footsteps.

He tapped on a button once, immediately closing the window of the test results displayed on the screen.

Composing himself, he clicked on another pending case to pretend he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. It’s just another role.

“Master Bruce.”

Why was he still up at this hour?

“Yes, Alfred,” he turned to meet the butler’s tired eyes- just as tired as his own.

Tired because of him.

Alfred was always up because of him. Because Bruce was a disease, constantly burdening others, dragging them down, keeping them up at night.

“I made some sandwiches. They’re light. Please do eat them,” he set the tray on the cluttered desk, simply pushing aside the numerous stacks of papers.

“Go to bed, Alfred,” he told him. Alfred was too old to be up at this hour. And whose fault is that?

“In due time,” he responded calmly, “What of the blood results, if I may ask?”

“Inconclusive,” Bruce lied.

“I see.”

Suspicion shrouded Alfred’s voice.

“How are her injuries?” Bruce asked, the pain finally creeping in, seeping into his bones.

“I commend you for asking about your daughter’s injuries after only four whole hours of staring at the screen, Master Bruce. You would definitely win father of the year.”

“I was occupied,” he sighed, “Please.”

“Her injuries are only superficial,” Alfred said, “Surface contusions at most.”

He still hurt her.

“Thank you, Alfred. Now go to bed.”

“It was only a little more than two decades ago when I was telling you the same,” he grumbled away.

Bruce made sure Alfred was gone before pulling up the results on the screen again, the glaring ‘MATCH’ sign staring angrily back at him as if it were shouting at Bruce, yelling in rage.

And Bruce understood completely. He had failed Jason Todd. He had betrayed him. And now he was back, vengeful, and full of resentment.

But that didn’t matter to Bruce.

Because despite it all, his son was alive.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

***

What did my son do to my daughter?

Bruce watched in horror as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed, hooked to the IV bag. He couldn’t stop staring at the bruises littering your neck.

Bruises that were far too small and evenly shaped to be the effect of a mere throttling.

He knew how the people close to him viewed him. He knew they thought he was strong, unforgiving, cold, emotionless. Especially when they put him side by side with Clark.

But he forced himself to be those things, because if he didn’t, he would have broken down years ago.

He was used to it. The pain. The darkness.

But this time, he felt like he was being crushed.

He felt like he was hanging on by a thread- no. A delicate strand of thin, brittle hair.

“It’s okay, doctor,” you had said, “I know what you’re going to ask me. No, my genitalia does not hurt. He didn’t do anything to me.”

He felt a wave of relief crash over him.

Jason wasn’t that far gone, then.

But as Bruce looked at your neck again, he still couldn’t help but feel nausea crawling into his core.

He still touched her.

Jim left after his questioning, and you drifted to sleep. He went over to you and looked down at your face, taking everything in.

Since when did you look so mature? When did you get so beautiful?

He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Even in sleep you had your eyebrows tugged down, as if you were angry that you had to go to bed. He didn’t know why he never saw that small part of you that shouted rebellion despite you almost always following his orders.

He realised that when he watched you sleep, you looked a bit like- no. Don’t ever compare the two.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to convey all of his feelings to you.

He was sorry. So god damned sorry for dragging you into this, for hurting you, for pulling you down to the depths with him.

Hoping you didn’t feel the teardrop that fell to your forehead, he quickly wiped it away before leaving for his press statement.

***

“Master Bruce, please!”

Another crash.

Alfred’s plea snapped him out of his blinding fury, his crushing pain.

He was standing at the hallway near the Manor entrance, glass and broken wood shattered at his feet, feeling the walls closing in and narrowing as Alfred looked at him in alarm.

“I-I’m sorry, Alfred. I-” he stammered, feeling like the small, helpless boy who watched his parents die before him.

He remembered the time when he was little, only a couple of months after the tragedy. He had done the exact same thing, taking out his anger and anguish by destroying things, triggered by something he had long forgotten about.

At that time, Alfred had held him closely in his arms as he stained the butler’s suit with his snot and tears. Again, a burden to the man who raised him.

This time, he refused the old man’s offer of comfort, walking past to descend to the cold darkness of the cave he was so familiar with.

Bruce didn’t usually drink his sorrows away, but this time, he did.

***

Dick wasn’t a good person. He was far from it.

Case in example, it was the first time he saw you after your kidnapping.

He meant to come sooner, he really did. But he was just so busy in Bludhaven, he couldn’t spare any time to rush over the moment he heard his sister was hurt. He tried to justify it in his head by thinking that you were probably handling it fine.

But he was just trying to make himself feel better.

What a great brother he was.

“So, why are you obsessing over violent crimes?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Desensitization was one thing when you worked in that field, but obsession was a whole other problem. And he didn’t want to see his sister walk down that path.

“A lunatic just kidnapped me a couple weeks ago, Dick, maybe this is my coping mechanism,” you huffed, giving him your signature eye roll.

A lot of things start with just a coping mechanism, kid.

Dick knew it about it all too well. The people he brought in on an almost daily basis, high as kites. The accident last week on the highway at three in the morning, two innocent lives taken because of a drunk man who had started drinking three years ago to cope with his mother’s loss.

The man downstairs in the cold cave, who was just a little boy when his parents died, now living with the trauma while going out night after night to beat up criminals, sleeping only three hours a day at most.

“I don’t want your pity, Dick,” you huffed, “I’m fine.”

Yeah, you were. And that was what worried Dick the most.

“I know you are,” he tried to smile, “Which is why I don’t think this is your coping mechanism.”

You talked to Dick about Red Hood, sharing your concerns about him. This is what made you, you. Opening up to him, offering your thoughts and feelings. It was something he never had with Bruce or Jason. The both of them were similar in that sense.

“He won’t tell me either,” Dick huffed, “It’s always been like that with him. No matter how hard I try to get closer to him, sometimes it feels like he’s getting further away.”

It was the same with Jason as well. Did everyone he cared about just end up running away from him?

“I can relate to that,” you sighed.

“But I have a feeling that he will tell you eventually,” Dick tried to comfort you, “It seems too important not to.”

Dick knew better. Bruce had always excluded information from him, whether it was important or not.

“And,” Dick hurriedly tried to change the subject, “I heard from Alfred that you’re not talking to Bruce. May I ask why?”

“So that’s why you’re here,” you eyed him suspiciously. . “I came to check up on you,” he stated, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come here right after, but my little sister did just get kidnapped.”

When are you going to stop putting your guard up around me, kid?

“I told you, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“Then you’re fine enough to tell me why you haven’t been talking to Bruce,” Dick pushed, “I won’t judge. I’ve had my fair share of cold shoulders and fights with him too. I know first hand how frustrating he can be. So come on, tell.”

He saw you hesitate for just a moment, before conceding.

“We fought,” you began, “It was when I got back from the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me who Red Hood was. And he- he called me ‘Jason’.”

Ah, fucking hell, Bruce.

“Jesus,” he whispered, “What did he say exactly?”

“‘Back down, Jason’,” your voice cracked.

Dick saw the way Bruce spiraled after Jason’s death, and he would never tell you this, but deep down he was against Bruce adopting you so soon after. He thought that Bruce was using you to fill up the hole he too felt with Jason’s absence.

You were so like him, yet so different. Still, Bruce must have been really distracted if he could slip as badly as he did.

Dick would ask later.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in years,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

Jason arguing with Bruce about using excessive force. Jason sneaking out to go for patrols whenever he was grounded. Hell, even Jason stealing whiskey from the cabinet at the age of fifteen.

He could still remember it so clearly. Jason with his dark hair poking into his eyes that were full of fury, cheeks puffed up and red as he pouted angrily at Bruce for making him stay at the Manor on nights Bruce insisted on going alone.

Dick tried to shove the past away. He knew he was making you even sadder.

“Has Bruce made any attempts to reconcile?” Dick remembered the conversation he was having with you.

“Yeah, but I’m still mad at him,” you pouted.

“And you have every right to be,” Dick nodded, “But Bruce, well, you know Bruce. He keeps these things to himself, but obviously he’s still hurting.”

You have know idea how much he’s hurting, Little Wing.

You avoided Dick’s eyes, looking down at your fumbling thumbs as the room became silent.

“I’m seeing someone,” you changed the subject.

“You are?”

Interesting.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s still very new, and we’re not official yet or anything. But we’re definitely testing the waters.”

“That’s great,” Dick grinned, “Who is he? Tell me the deets. Spill the tea.”

He sort of loved gossip. It wasn’t a secret.

“I met him in the library a while back,” you excitedly said, “We exchanged numbers. Started texting, meeting up from time to time. He’s really cute.”

Ah, young love. What Dick would give to be at that age again.

“I bet he is,” Dick teased.

“What’s with that face?” you laughed, “He is! He’s slightly older, and he’s got this sexy bad boy look, you know?”

“I thought you liked the nerdy types?” Dick responded. He saw a picture of you and your classmates on your Instagram. Typical prep school kids.

“I never had a type, you ass!” . “You’re right. I thought you were completely uninterested in boys,” he wondered out loud, “Is he nice, at least?”

“Yeah he is,” you smiled to yourself, “He didn’t know I was Wayne until 2 weeks ago. Before that, we were mainly texting. Now we’re meeting up more. I feel like I can be myself with him. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me trust him.”

So you still have some of your walls up with me, but you trust a stranger? Who is this guy?

“I’m not going to tell him anything!” you quickly added, “I’m not stupid. I know I shouldn’t trust someone I just met. It’s not about the confidential stuff. It’s the little things like how I feel, and my problems, and just- stuff, you know?”

The thought didn’t even cross his mind. Dick trusted you enough with their secret, just as how Bruce did.

“I get it,” Dick tried to rationalise, “You don’t know what it is about the person, but you feel like the two of you just click, am I right?”

It had been like that with Barbara. It had been like that with Kory.

Now Dick was alone, and deep down he knew that they saw him as how he truly was. Selfish.

“Exactly,” you smiled, “Been with anyone like that before?”

“One or two,” he brushed it off, “People like that- whom you just click with- they’re hard to come by. You should see where this leads. Who knows, maybe he’s one of those that would stick around, huh?”

What he would give to have at least one person who would stick with him.

After he met with Gordon, Dick went to the cave to see Bruce who was, of course, facing the computers.

“I know what you’re going to say,” his father’s voice echoed without even turning to look at him.

“Then you know how much you’ve hurt her?” he crossed his arms.

Bruce did turn around to face him, and Dick suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He knew that Bruce hardly ever slept, but this was different. He looked disheveled, his complexion pale, his eyes more bloodshot and the dark circles even more prominent.

Alfred did say how badly Bruce took the kidnapping, finding him passed out on the cave floor with an empty bottle of scotch in his hand, but he thought that Bruce would have gotten himself together by now. It was surprising to see him that way, and Dick felt… Uncomfortable.

Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the kidnapping, nor his fight with you.

“You found out something,” Dick narrowed his eyes, “Something important. What is it?”

He caught a flash of guilt in Bruce’s eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Bruce,” Dick groaned, “This is why you keep on hurting her.”

Hurting us.

“I’m protecting everyone.”

“You can’t use that excuse with me anymore,” he sighed, “I don’t need your protection. So tell me.”

“No.”

That was his final word, and he knew that Bruce would never budge.

“Fine,” he let out a breath, “Did you know that she’s seeing someone?”

Bruce frowned.

Which made Dick frown. Since when did Bruce miss things? What the fuck was going on with him?

“Name?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. And no, don’t you dare,” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Do not do a background check on him. She deserves privacy. Hell, don’t even bring it up. You have no right to go poking into her relationships.”

Dick was being defensive, but that was because he was trying to convince himself as well, which was why he didn’t ask you for a name. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I wasn’t going to,” Bruce reassured, “She… She deserves a life. A normal life. Not this- not-”

Dick knew then he had to leave, because Bruce’s voice breaking meant he was far from okay, and he knew that Bruce hated to show his vulnerability to anyone.

“Bruce,” Dick said, this time softly, “You’re not alone, you know. I’ve been with you since the beginning, and I’m still with you now.”

And with that, Bruce turned his back towards him again, silently going back to his goddamned computers.

“He’s been that way ever since the kidnapping,” Alfred informed him when he walked up to the manor.

“I don’t think it’s just the kidnapping, Alf,” he frowned at the butler, “There’s something more to it. Did he figure out who Red Hood is?”

“Perhaps,” Alfred pursed his lips, “But he refuses to tell me.”

“That means we know him personally,” Dick theorised, “Who the hell could it be that he’s so adamant on keeping it a secret?”

“I do not know Master Dick, but it can’t be anyone good if he’s got Master Bruce drinking during the day.”

***

Bruce knew that he was wrong to call you by his dead son’s name.

But his dead son was supposed to stay dead instead of haunting him with that glaring red bat across his chest, and having that thought in his head all the time, he slipped up.

He prided himself with his contingency plans and detective skills and preparations, but no amount of time could ever prepare him for when he found out his dead son had sexually assaulted his daughter.

You seemed to have dealt with it surprisingly well, exceeding his expectations. In fact, Bruce thought it was a bit odd that you weren’t as affected by it.

And then he saw it.

He saw what he thought was the internalized anger you felt finally bursting through the seams of your tightly lidded emotions.

And he wasn’t prepared for it.

Bruce didn’t think you had it in you, or else he would never have made you Robin.

But there you were on the ground, beating a man beyond recognition.

He couldn’t dread this moment because he never saw it coming. Not from you. Never from you.

He hurriedly ripped you off the man, flinging you away with force.

Pulse was present, but weak. Flail chest. It took him only a few seconds to observe the damage you did to the man’s face. It didn’t look good.

“Stay back,” he growled at you when you came close.

He couldn’t look at you. He didn’t want to.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he heard you whisper.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered.

There was no other choice. He had to take the fall for you.

“NOW!” he snarled at you again. In the background, you were on the phone, but Bruce’s thoughts were elsewhere, calculating what needs to be done.

You moved-

“Leave. I’ll deal with this.” You needed to go. You couldn’t be here when the ambulance and police arrived.

“Batman-”

“I said leave,” he snapped. He couldn’t even hear your voice.

He waited for the ambulance to come before leaving, making sure they saw him escape. Making sure he would be the one the media would attack.

And while he drove back to the Cave, he decided to give his son a call.

“Bruce?”

“Dick,” he sighed. He knew he had always been unfair to his eldest, giving him so much pressure to perform, pushing him to be his best- and ultimately away. He knew that he never showed it, but he was proud of Dick. He always had been from the very beginning.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t a surprise that Dick picked up immediately that something was wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that calling him out of the blue was what gave it away, Bruce himself trained Dick.

“She- she crossed the line tonight,” he tried to explain, “Jerome Miller. She attacked him. The damage she’s done to him is irreversible. I suspect he will be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.”

“Jesus,” Dick breathed from over the line, “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I wasn’t there,” he grit. He thought he could trust you.

But deep down Bruce knew that it was all his fault after all. Who was he to act so righteous when he was the reason your parents died?

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to me, Bruce,” Dick sighed, “Not about something like this. She’s probably beating herself up over this already.”

“As she should.”

“Bruce.”

“Please,” Bruce asked, “I’m worried. She isn’t herself and I can’t blame her for it, but the chances of her talking to you are much higher than if I were to try.”

“I’ll try,” Dick agreed.

“Report to me after.”

“Bruce, we’ve talked about this,” Dick grumbled, “I am under no obligation to report to you. I’m doing this for her. Not you.”

He was trying not to go back to the man he was before, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

They’re your children, not your soldiers.

He had to remind himself time and time again. It was easier to be just a father to you as compared to Dick and Jason, yet even then he made slips.

“I know,” he apologised. “Thank you.”

Click.

And then Bruce was alone again.

***

Bruce watched you from the corner of his eye when you came back. He noticed that you had put more effort into dressing up when you left the house that day.

There was a slight bounce to your step and a small smile that played on your lips.

Dick was right after all. There was someone you were seeing.

But no, he couldn’t look into it. In fact, it would be hypocritical of him if he did. Dick had many girlfriends and flings, and Bruce didn’t want to know about any of them. Mainly because Dick was his first, and the thought of a boy he raised maturing and having relationships made him feel confused about parenthood.

Not that many of them lasted too long anyway.

Jason was a little different. While Dick had girls lining up after him all the time, Jason was much more subtle about the girls he liked, and that made Bruce more curious- but not enough to investigate.

He thought about when Barbara had caught Jason looking at her, making him turn red. He wondered if Jason would like you.

A tight squeeze in his chest.

He didn’t let his mind linger there.

Bruce felt obligated to protect you, which tempted him to investigate the boy you were seeing. It could be a trap, it could be someone using you for fame and money, or something even more sinister. Hell, it could be Jason himself after that stunt he pulled off.

But there was no evidence, and Bruce wanted to be a father to you this time instead of Batman the mentor. So Bruce would have to trust you on this one.

***

There was something holding Bruce back from telling everyone the truth about Jason.

And because he is who he is, Bruce knew what it was.

Guilt. He blamed himself for what had happened, and telling others about it meant owning up to his mistakes. Bruce never ran away from his fears and feelings despite what others might think. On the contrary, he held to them very strongly, using them as a motivation to fight head on.

This time, though, he felt more self destructive- the worst he had ever felt since he carried Jason’s corpse from the rubble- and so he tried to delay the inevitable.

But time was running out. He had enough time to wallow in self pity. It was time to pull himself together, and the first step began with Alfred.

The Cave was colder than usual that night, air thin and darker despite the illumination he had provided. Bruce was slumped in his usual wheeled chair, cowl resting on the desk after patrol, the weight of his suit almost crushing him in his weakened mental state.

“Alfred,” Bruce sighed, “Please, take a seat. I have something to tell you.”

“I assume this is about the identity of one criminal who has been terrorizing your daughter?” Alfred retorted, sitting down anyway.

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “This… This won’t be easy, Alfred. I suggest you prepare for the worst.”

“And the worst being..?”

Bruce wheeled himself closer to the butler, leaning forward. “It’s Jason.”

Alfred merely blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid my ears have caught up to my age. I must have misheard you, because for a moment, I thought you said that Red Hood is Jason.”

“You didn’t mishear me, Alfred. It’s him.”

Bruce saw the confusion in Alfred’s eyes, the frantic search for reason. “Our Jason? Jason Todd?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

And then, Bruce felt it. The pain he had been suffering with for weeks spreading to the man who raised him. Alfred clutched his chest with one hand, the other clenching tightly over the armrest of his chair, his breathing quickened.

“Impossible,” he whispered, “Jason died. How?”

“There was an event regarding The League and Superboy punching reality. I won’t get into details, but I suspect that was what caused the initial resurrection. The restoration, however. We know of someone who has been continuously restored time and time again.”

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” Alfred concluded, “But why? Why on Earth would he restore Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce frowned, “But it is an almost perfect revenge plan. I would like to entertain the idea that he has brainwashed Jason into thinking we are the enemy, but I can’t put it past him to develop a hatred for me. I… betrayed him.”

“Master Bruce, this is not your fault,” Alfred rose to his feet, “If it is indeed Jason, we can still help. I have faith in the boy.”

“Me too, Alfred. Me too.”

Bruce didn’t miss the sob that echoed faintly through the cave when Alfred ascended back up.

***

As if in slow motion, he saw every change of emotion on Dick’s face. The way he blinked once in confusion, the surprise approaching as he widened his eyes, and then his eyebrows stitching together in a deep frown, his lips downturning and nose flaring in anger.

Bruce saw the punch coming, but he did not do anything to counter it. Gladly, he took the right hook Dick gave him, appreciating the sting that radiated from his cheekbone to his jaw.

“How long have you known?” his son shook in anger.

“Dick-”

“HOW LONG, BRUCE?!” Dick roared, fists clenched, voice echoing in the cave.

“Since the night he blew up the warehouse,” Bruce replied.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dick ran his fingers through his hair, “Jesus, Bruce. That was over a month ago.”

“I know.”

“We-” he choked on his words, “We deserved to know.”

“I know.”

“So why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!” he slammed his fists on the desk. Bruce caught a few drops of tears that fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologised, and meant it. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

“You’re sorry?” Dick looked at him with eyes far too cold than he knew, “He was my brother, Bruce. He told me things he never told anyone else. We shared secrets and jokes. We went to the same diner once a week to catch up. He asked for my help and I asked for his. And then he died. Just like that, because you couldn’t keep him on a leash. And now he’s back, and you knew it was him, and you’re just sorry?”

Dick’s eyes were wet and red, and filled with contempt. Bruce couldn’t blame him. He hated himself, too.

“Does she know?” he whispered, “Does she know that the man who attacked her is your son, and is my brother?”

Like always, he pushed the pain away efficiently, logically, objectively.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I told her this afternoon.”

“And she’s not angry?”

“If she was, she did not show it,” Bruce described, “In fact, she looked… Worried.”

“Of fucking course she would be worried,” he snarled, “She’s worried that she’s going to be irrelevant to you now the dead Robin is back.”

“She’s not,” Bruce growled at that, “She’s not his replacement. She never was.”

“Does she know that, Bruce?” Dick snickered, “Did you finally get over yourself and tell her that? Because the last fucking time I spoke to her, you called her Jason.”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He was good at smiling at the cameras and making speeches and charming an audience, but he was never good with words, real words that described his true feelings to the ones he cared for the most.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, now numb to everything throughout years and years of practice. “I promise, I will bring him back. Will you help me?”

“What can I do that you can’t?” Dick scoffed.

“You knew him, Dick,” Bruce said, “You knew him in ways I never did. I can predict his movements, but to accurately guess what his motivations are- you knew him better than I did.”

“Fine,” Dick conceded, “But I’m not forgiving you for this, Bruce. I swear, you’re going to pay for all the secrets you’ve kept from us, be it by my hand or someone else’s.”

***

“Did you know that your daughter went out last night to see a boy while we were patrolling?” Dick brought up.

He was looking at Bruce’s back, as he always was.

Bruce was on the computers, going through hours upon hours of security footage and traffic cams for Red Hood- for Jason.

It was difficult for him to put the two together. Jason had always been his little brother. Young, naive, inexperienced. And now that same person was the leader of the underground.

It was definitely difficult.

“Alfred mentioned she went out, but I didn’t know it was to meet a boy,” Bruce replied without glancing his way.

“Well, she lied to me about it at first,” Dick sank in a chair, looking at his nails. “Got pretty defensive when I brought it up. Even tried to deflect by using Jason against me.”

Dick knew you meant to hurt him with your words, and it worked.

He was definitely surprised that you would stoop that low because he always saw you as a sweet, kind girl.

People change. That’s what happens when you stick with Batman.

But Dick didn’t expect you to change so fast.

“She… used Jason against you?”

Bruce finally turned towards him, the ever constant frown a little bit deeper that moment.

“Yeah,” Dick straightened, “It was the first time she’s ever spoken to me that way.”

“What did she say exactly?”

“That I was distracting myself by using humor as a coping mechanism, and that I should come to terms with the fact that it was my brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted her,” he repeated bitterly.

“What did you say to her that she responded that way?” Bruce asked.

“I was just making fun of her boyfriend,” Dick shrugged, “Why? Do you think she’s hiding something?”

At first, Dick thought that you were genuinely angry at the both of them because you were right- Jason did kidnap you. Jason did do those things to you. And Jason was supposed to be under both Bruce and Dick’s responsibility.

Dick didn’t blame you for it, because he would have probably been angry if the situation was reversed.

It was one of the mistakes he always made as Robin when Bruce was teaching him how to accurately deduce by reading people. Never assume that someone’s motivations would be the same as your own.

“She hid that she has… someone from me. There must be a reason why.”

“Or she knows how you are and would rather not have your nose in her business, Bruce. She did find out about that tracker you put in her necklace. How did she even react to it?”

Bruce had done the same with both Dick and Jason while they were Robin, though it didn’t come disguised as a pretty, shiny piece of metal.

On the contrary, during Dick’s Robin days, Bruce had hid it behind his third molar while he was unconscious. He only found out after a year, when he was held hostage by a mercenary who wanted to use him to lure Batman. Said mercenary had detected the tracking device and pulled it out along with the tooth.

It made him increasingly more hostile towards Batman and his never ending need for control, but at least it saved him a trip to the dentist.

From what Dick knew, Jason died with his tracker on him.

Bruce had said that it was all done in the name of safety.

But would you tell Jason the same thing now?

“I apologised and never replaced the one Red Hood damaged. I thought that would have been sufficient for her to trust me again.”

Dick let out a bark of laughter at that, but it was void of any humor. “Only you would think that not replacing her damn tracker would make her trust you. No wonder she hasn’t told you anything.”

It was probably best not to mention that you were now also sexually active.

“Do you think she’s hiding something important?” Bruce asked.

“Are you actually asking for my opinion?” Dick smirked, “No, but it’s too soon to tell, anyway. Relax, Bruce. It’s like you forgot what it was like to be young and in love.”

That was obviously a joke. Bruce grew out of his childhood the moment he saw his parents getting killed in that alley.

As for being in love, did Bruce ever allow himself that?

***

“What did you say she called herself?” Nightwing asked softly.

The poor girl was scared out of her mind to the point where Dick found it difficult to extract important information from her ramblings.

Well, that’s what happens when someone makes you kill a person.

It was difficult, so difficult, to face the fact that it was Jason behind all of that.

“I t-think, V,” the witness- Elena- stuttered. “She with him. But try to stop him.”

Behind him, he felt Batman pause. He was walking around the club and analysing evidence while listening to the conversation.

“She tried to stop him? Him as in Red Hood?” Dick frowned.

“Yes,” Elena looked down and rubbed her arms.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but,” Dick tried, “You told me they were partners.”

“Yes, but she try to stop him,” she repeated, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Dick offered a smile, “Thank you very much. You’ve been a huge help.”

“Am I going to prison?” she looked at him with big, wet eyes.

“We’ll make sure you won’t,” Dick assured, “You’ll get the best defense team in Gotham.”

“You can do that?” she asked, hope in her voice.

“It’s the least we could do,” Dick answered, a sad smile playing on his lips.

He’s our responsibility.

“Thank you,” she gave a watery laugh, “Even prison better than with him, I want to be free.”

Dick heard footsteps approaching. As he turned around, Gordon entered the crime scene, followed by his team.

“Of course you’re here first,” he sighed at Batman.

“Gordon.”

“You might have to speak to the police again, okay?” Dick told Elena who was suddenly nervous again by the presence of so many people. “I’ll make sure they know you’re innocent. Gordon is the only one you can trust, okay?”

She nodded, her gaze turning downwards.

“Gordon,” he approached the aging man. He was used to talking with Gordon in Batman’s stead, even when he was Robin, and remembered feeling proud of himself whenever he finished speaking to Gordon regarding cases without Batman having to add anything.

“Nightwing,” he blinked, “It’s been a while.”

“Desperate times calls for desperate backups,” he grinned, “Anyway, the girl. She’s a victim of Victor Ibenescu’s human trafficking trade. Romanian, only thirteen when she was kidnapped. She was forced to shoot Victor by Red Hood.”

“This Red Hood likes his poetic justice,” Gordon snickered.

“It’s still first degree murder, or at least, that’s how the law would make it seem,” Dick reminded him, “But I assure you she’s innocent. Red Hood threatened to kill and rape her if she didn’t shoot.”

That was a lie, on both his part and Elena’s. Judging by the way she averted her eyes and touched her own arm, Dick could tell that she wasn’t telling the whole truth about being threatened by Red Hood- but he also knew that he couldn’t expose her and get into more trouble.

He wanted to let out a tired sigh, but that would give him away in front of Gordon and the other officers. He still needed to maintain his air of hopefulness, and he couldn’t seem like he was troubled by his thoughts.

Time to meet Bruce back at the cave and watch the surveillance footage.

***

“He’s got a partner now,” Dick voiced out his findings, “Since when did Red Hood partner up?”

Bruce’s frown was deep as he stared at the screen.

Dick pursed his lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Whether this is Red Hood or Jason?” Bruce hummed, “This definitely does not seem like anything Red Hood would do. He’s always tried to separate himself from others because it furthers his authoritarian agenda. He does not get friendly with people because people are disposable to him.”

“So you think this is Jason, then?” Dick concluded, “Well, Jason never had much of a problem working with others in the past, and he made some friends. He wasn’t the type to be hostile to people.”

“He did have trust issues,” Bruce pointed out, “At the very beginning.”

“Yes, and he kept a lot of things to himself,” Dick agreed, “But he did have friends.”

“Special friends,” Bruce added, “Friends who gained his respect and trust. So the question is- who is this girl and how did she manage to gain his trust?”

“Hey, play it back again,” Dick said, “Those moves.”

Bruce played the security tape, showing the mysterious girl and Red Hood taking down Victor’s men.

“Arnis,” Bruce pointed out.

“It’s a little different.”

“She has incorporated silat in as well. Low stance,” Bruce observed. “She’s skilled, but not polished. It could be anyone.”

There was something familiar about the girl that Dick couldn’t pinpoint. Dick usually had strong intuition- a gut feeling that enabled him to know which facts to focus on during an investigation, or a strong ability to see through people.

But the problem was that it wasn’t solid proof or evidence, something Batman heavily focused on. It was a gut feeling that told him he knew who the girl was.

“Do you think it’s-” he broke off without completing his sentence. There was nothing to back his claims.

“She has no reason or motive to work with Jason,” Bruce shot the idea down, “He’s hurt her. And… She wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“She’s been keeping secrets, Bruce,” Dick reminded, hating the fact that this time it was him who was suspicious.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Because he never would have thought that Jason was capable of torture and murder, either.

Why didn’t he come to me?

“As you clearly pointed out prior to this,” Bruce grit, “She has her reasons as to why she’s keeping secrets. And it is most probably because of me. All of you kept secrets. But this time, I’d like to let her keep hers.”

It was sweet, seeing Bruce that way.

“Is it guilt?” Dick asked.

“It’s repentance.”

Dick hated playing the bad guy.

Because he wasn’t supposed to be. He was the one people looked up to for inspiration, he was the light to Batman’s darkness, he was the smiles and charms and laughter.

He wasn’t the one who would accuse his little sister of fraternizing with the- was Jason the enemy?

Shit. Jason had messed with his senses. Dick’s head was chaotic, his emotions causing him to tense up.

Was he wrong? Was he just like Bruce? Was he jumping to conclusions just because Alfred told him you were out? Should he investigate this Carter you said you were with?

No. I’m not Bruce.

And now, you were looking at him with angry eyes, betrayed and appalled by his accusation.

*** Large.

That was the first thing that came to Dick’s mind when he saw his little brother.

The last time Dick saw him, he was much shorter, and definitely not as bulky.

And the last time Dick saw Jason, he was giving him a hug goodbye, complaining that Dick had messed up his hair.

And now, Jason was aiming a gun at him.

The gunshot didn’t hurt nearly as much as the thought that Jason had indeed shot him. Did Jason hate him that much?

You’re almost as guilty as he is, Jason’s voice echoed in his head.

“Bruce,” he gasped in the comms, “I’m down. They got away.”

“I heard a gunshot,” the deep voice in his ear spoke.

“Yeah, Jason shot my leg,” Dick winced, “Didn’t hit bone but I think it nicked my artery.”

“There are children here,” Batman said, “I was right. He’s sabotaging the Powers’. Gordon should be here soon. You control your bleeding.”

Dick nodded to himself and took a deep breath before plunging his finger into the gunshot wound to keep himself from bleeding out.

***

“...suspects that the crime lord only known as Red Hood and an unidentified female were behind the home invasion. Maria and Joseph Powers were left in a gruesome state according to reports, but their only child Carrie Powers was unharmed. The authorities are not sure what Red Hood’s motive was, but more will be elaborated during Commissioner Gordon’s public address later this afternoon...”

Dick heard you close the door.

“You didn’t come home last night,” he lowered the volume of the television.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered.

Dick looked over at you. You seemed tired, eyes swollen and red from crying, wearing an oversized t-shirt that he didn’t recognize.

“I was at-”

“Carter’s?” he finished your sentence for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

Dick frowned to himself. Your arms were crossed, you were avoiding eye contact, your body was angled away from him.

“You heard about the Powers’?” he turned his gaze towards the television.

“I saw the news on the way here,” you monotoned.

You smelled like a different shampoo. It was familiar, but Dick couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.

“So you know that-”

“Yes, Jason did it,” you said rigidly.

“Along with-”

“His partner.”

Ah, now he remembered the smell. Jason’s favorite shampoo. He used to make fun of him for choosing one that was called what it was called. He didn’t really care about it, Dick kept his hair soft and fluffy with multiple women’s hair products. He just liked to rile Jason up because he was so defensive about it.

And with that, Dick let out a long, disappointed sigh.

“Bruce is in the cave. I suggest that you think long and hard about what to tell him,” Dick offered you a soft smile, “But no matter what you choose to say, you’ll always be my sister, and I’ll always love you no matter what, okay?”

You gave him a look of shock, and then realised that he had figured it out.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you lips trembled, your eyes started brimming with tears.

“No, kid. I’m sorry,” he replied, “Go.”

You nodded and left.

Despite being right all along, he didn’t feel any sense of achievement. Dick couldn’t help but partly blame himself. For being so absent, for being neglectful, for being a bad brother.

Dick wasn’t perfect, but like hell would he stop trying to be.

***

For years Bruce had tried to stop feeling guilty for being relieved whenever someone else takes care of a problem he couldn’t solve- especially when it involved murder.

Bruce had tried to take down the Powers for almost a decade, and everytime he got close, there was always another obstacle in the way. It was difficult to expose the rich and powerful without resorting to violence, without resorting to breaking his principles.

So Bruce was ready to stop himself from internally celebrating their deaths. This time, however, he wasn’t as pleased. Because this time, it was Jason who brutally murdered two people. Jason, who was supposed to be under his care and responsibility.

“Bruce?” he heard your timid, small voice from behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

And there it was.

Bruce turned around and looked straight at you, piercing your eyes with his own as he waited on your confession.

A minute passed.

“I’m V,” you struggled to speak, “I’ve been meeting up with Jason for a few months now. I didn’t know he was Red Hood until you told me. But when you did tell me, I chose to confront him and team up with him anyway.”

Bruce didn’t say anything.

“He- he’s not a bad person, Bruce,” you justified, “He’s just really hurt. He needs help.”

You were telling Bruce things he already knew.

“I- I fell in love with him,” you continued, “And I let my feelings cloud my judgement and betrayed your trust. At first I thought that he was onto something, that his… methods were better than yours. And I was angry that you kept secrets from me. But after last night- after what I saw- I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay.”

Bruce clenched his jaw.

He suspected it. Dick suspected it. But for your sake, the both of them chose to put their trust in you. He had tried so hard to change from his old ways. He learned his lesson with both Dick and Jason.

He didn’t want you to go through the same thing they did.

So, he chose to blindly trust you anyway, hoping that he wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” you were sobbing now, “I’m so sorry. Please, say something.”

After another minute of watching you break down in front of him, Bruce finally spoke up.

“Hang up your colors. You’re no longer my Robin.”

[maleyanderecafe]

Hey there was a mobile game I wanted to recommend you check out! It’s called MazM: The Phantom of the Opera. Obviously the phantom himself is a well-known character and prime example of a yandere, and this version’s Raoul also takes on that trait a little (although it’s mostly because Christine is in a life or death situation and this he’s protective over her), he’s very sweet and doesn’t wait a moment to shower her with praise. Anyway it’s a pretty faithful retelling of the original book and was extra fun for me as a yandere-lover as you play as Christine caught in between the yandere and the actual boyfriend. I think it’s coming to the switch soon as well if you want to wait for that.

...Are you sure that Raoul just takes on this trait a bit...?

Joking aside, sorry it took me so long to answer this ask. I was originally going to watch a walkthrough on youtube, but then I realized that you said it would be on switch and since I just got my switch emulator, I ended up playing with a friend. I will say that there is a lot for me to say about this game, so this will be a long read.

First things first, I'll admit that I've never actually read or watched the Phantom of the Opera before, so I genuinely have no idea what happens in the story. This is where my friend who I was streaming for comes in because she has read the story so she helped fill me in on what happens (she's also making a yandere vn in the future which I will be spamming the heck out of because yandere vn). I think from what she told me, most of the story is relatively accurate, though some parts are changed for one reason or another (for instance, The Persian has a name in this game, but in the original, he doesn't), which has some pros and cons for some characters. Overall though, the story was pretty good for a first timer like me since it really let me experience what the Phantom of the Opera is truly about. I think the creator Mazm did a good job for historical detail, which makes sense considering their platform is about creating games that reinterpret famous stories (they've also done one for Wizard of Oz and Jekyll and Hyde which I sort of want to play), and there are a lot of different notes the player can collect in the game that give more historical insight into what is going on.

The story for the most part is pretty linear. There are some choices you can choose, but except for two, they don't really affect the story. For the most part, the game plays as a visual novel, though you do have to walk around to talk or interact with things to proceed the story. There are cats and notes that lie around the game too, with the notes giving more historical insight and the cats being used as hints in case you don't know where to go. The story is about a detective trying to find out the truth of the Phantom of the Opera at a request of a client whos husband was a victim of him, but most of the story is played through a flashback.

There are also small minigames as well that aren't too difficult, though I honestly felt like some of the minigames got to be tedious at times, specifically the one minigame where you have to press the order of the mirror combo which I found really annoying because besides the fact that I'm bad at those games, you had to do it every time you wanted to enter under the Opera house, which was just... ugh. The game itself seems much more optimized for mobile than it was for switch considering how slow the characters move (and its really slow walking to different places sometimes) as well as the fact that it takes forever to load between different scenes and there's no touch screen option for switch (that I know of). Plus the buttons for moving and pressing hints were annoying to deal with (though this could just be because I'm using an emulator). I also kept getting confused when I was playing, since sometimes I would walk around the entire opera house trying to figure out what to do next, only to learn that I was suppose to talk to someone that was literally five steps from where I spawned. The last thing I found annoying was the fact that there's no option to skip dialogue which is really annoying when I wanted to replay a specific part of the story to take some screenshots. If you play this game, it's probably better to play it on mobile than on switch.

In terms of artwork, Mazm's Phantom of the Opera is really gorgeous, from the overworld sprites to the dialogue sprites to the background and CGs. I love how cute the overworld sprites are (I think Jammes and Raoul's are my favorite, they're both so cute) and every background is really nice to walk through and gives a good atmosphere of what it's trying to show. The character sprites for each characters are nice and varied. I can always appreciate characters that have recognizable faces and shapes, since a lot of times I have face blindness when it comes to characters that look way too similar. The CGs of course are super well done and I love all of them. Overall, the artstyle of this game is very solid and I love the way it looks.

The main character of the story was Christine, who looks really good ( I really love her hair), was for the most part alright initially. While I found her to be a bit naive (because she believed that there was an actual Angel of Music when it was just... the Phantom), she was for the most part alright, and even ended up saving another character from the phantom. However, I found her actions annoying after she met the phantom, specifically the part where she agreed to stay underground with the phantom for two days and would be released as long as she didn't touch his mask, and guess what. Right as she was literally about to leave, SHE TAKES OFF HIS MASK, AND FOR WHAT? YOU WERE JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE?? The other thing that bothered me was the after being trapped with the Phantom for about a month, she is given free reign to go back above ground, under the conditions that she only goes to the opera house and at home. During this time, she's expected to break it off with Raoul, so she fakes a honeymoon with him before he leaves for the artic. However, during this time, she doesn't tell anyone, not even Raoul about what the Phantom is up to. She has an entire month, an ENTIRE MONTH to tell someone that the Phantom is likely to hurt people (as previously he had dropped a chandelier on top of the audience) and she just... didn't. Understandably, she might have been afraid that the Phantom might have heard her, but still, what is he going to do to the possible 100 people that Christine could have told about him. She could have saved people from death if something like that were to happen. Near the end, she does get proper character development and learns to choose things for her sake and not others, which was pretty nice and does stand up to the Phantom after all the trauma (and doesn't get stockholm sydrome, thank goodness), but I still think that a lot of her actions could have probably been written better to make her less naive (since apparently in the original she was about 16ish while in this remake she's about 20 so it's less awkward between her and the phantom).

Raoul is the next character I'll be talking about, because even though he is very adorable, he also has one braincell and talks about Christine way too much. My friend and I actually decided to make a counter on how many times Erik and Raoul say "Christine." Erik says Christines name 128 times and Raoul... says it 340 times. This isn't even counting his introduction and only starts up to when Erik is introduced as a formal character and also doesn't count any time he says it in the overworld. 340! My friend kept on joking around that because Raoul says Christine so much, his brother Phillipe became an alcoholic because he's so tired of Raoul talking about Christine. Raoul only really has like three things going for him: the fact that he was in the military, the fact that he's part of the Chagny household and Christine, and that's it. Throughout the story, his goals are pretty much always related to Christine, whether it be to give gifts to Christine, being worried about her or trying to protect Christine from the Phantom. When the chandelier drops on half the crowd during one of the performances, instead of being worried for them or trying to get out of the Opera House, he instead looks for Christine, who is on stage and quite literally in the safest location within the theater. I would consider him a redeemed/protective yandere though, considering his priority is always Christine (he even gives up his own family name to be with her) and he's always trying to protect her. There's a part of the story where Raoul becomes really unhinged when it comes to protecting Christine, lashing out her her friends and other members of the Opera house. He does some really dumb stuff because of the Phantom, specifically throwing away Christine's ring that she got from the Phantom (that she also literally told him before that as long as she's wearing the ring she wouldn't be harmed by the phantom and he just...?? okay??). When he's tortured in the mirror room, he hallucinates Christine blaming him for her capture, and he even cries while hallucinating that Christine friendzones him (which I though was actually really funny, even if it was a tad bit stupid). His redemption comes near the end of the story where he apologizes for being so emotional and realizing that he was a bit of an obsessive beast, and in one ending he lets Christine go to travel the world. To be honest, I don't know if Raoul would continue to be as protective and obsessed with her even after the Phantom's death, but I guess there's not really any way to know.

The Phantom, or Erik (which I know is his cannon name but it makes me laugh because he really doesn't look like an Erik) is the main villain of the story. Unfortunately, in this version, I don't think I can call him a yandere, for one simple character: Melek. Melek, as far as I know isn't in the original story, is a prisoner that Erik has after she refused to marry her. As a character, I do actually like Melek since she's the one of the more sensible characters in the story and she's the more rational one between her and Christine, but her role in the story basically deconfirms Erik as a yandere, at least in this version. For one, Melek is a blind maid of Erik that he did fall in love with and trap, similar to how Christine was, which kind of comes off as Erik being the kind of person who would trap any girl that he likes. Even if this is the case, I don't understand why Erik would keep her alive even after she fell for Christine. Supposedly the reason is that Erik wanted to make Christine feel despair and he did attempt to kill her, but Melek survives and he just... doesn't do anything with her. Honestly, if Melek were straight up not in the story, I would have put him as a yandere because pretty much all of his other actions point to a more possessive/worship type of yandere, but because of Melek it's just not possible in my eyes. Besides that Erik sort of reminds me of a chunni in this version (he's like this absolute darkness is my curse! Like people with 7th grade syndrom seem to have), it was kind of hard for me to take him seriously in certain times. He is very intimidating when he threatens Christine, but his overdramatic nature (which I know is something he's always known for, just this version is uh...) really makes him seem like a child. Erik is for sure suppose to be more antagonistic in this version, considering the addition of Melek and his general actions of possession towards Christine and his disdain for Raoul, but near the end we do see more of his story and we see just how devastating his life is from the moment of birth. I did feel really bad for him when Hatim/The Persian keeps on mentioning the prince he used to work with because its really obvious that he still has trauma from it (and he keeps begging him to not talk about his past and the Persian just... keeps traumatizing him I guess) and the fact that he was treated so badly because of his appearance, but this doesn't excuse his actions in the story. Christine does try to sympathize with him using her own tragic backstory, which Erik kind of pushes away (like bro, we're not trying to see whose parents are worse, she's just trying to sympathize with you, dang) as not being tragic. I think that Mazm did present him pretty well in this story, not showing just his antagonistic side but also his more tragic side. Sadly, like I said, I can't consider him a yandere because of the addition of Melek, at least not in this version.

In terms of other characters, I really like the trio of Meg Giry, Sorelli and Jammes- the friends of Christine. From what I can tell, they're all a bit more aged up in this version, with Sorelli being the oldest and Jammes being the youngest and I feel like they gave more character to them than in the original version. Sorelli is the head of the dancers and the dating partner of Phillip de Chagny, Raoul's older brother and she's the mature and strong willed one of the group, wielding a blade that she uses to protect her friends. I like the fact that they made her a bit more protective and in one of the overworld sprites its mentioned via rumor that Phillip fell in love with her after he saw Sorelli swing her dagger, which I thought was pretty cute. At the end though, after Phillips death, she realizes that she was struggling too hard to climb up the social ladder and decides to forge her own path. In the beginning she attempts to protect her and her friends from the Phantom, declaring that she'll stab him if she sees him. Next is Meg Giry, and from what my friend told me, she was very young in the original books and kind of scardy cat. In this version, she's a bit older but maintains the scardy cat position, and is very terrified of the Phantom. She does gain more character development during the story, standing up to her mother and the managers and overall being a more assertive and confident person, which I thought was a nice touch. Last but certainly not least is my best girl Jammes. In the original story, she barely makes an appearance, but in Mazm they made her quite literally the best character. For one, the canonical reason why there are so many cats hanging out in the opera house is that Jammes keeps on feeding them and letting them in and she has named all of them after the Opera House staff. Jammes loves to spin and has a cute animation and while she can be loud and a bit strange sometimes, she can be smart and assertive when she needs to. Jammes always pushes the other three into being better and protects them when needed (for instance, when Phillip lashes out at Sorelli, she steps in and demands that he apologize for his actions) and can be really smart at times (she's the only character that attempts to at least cover her mouth when the Phantom's fragrance, a hallucinogenic gas, starts to fill up the box seat, despite others who have been in there not even trying) and is the one who stands up for Christine's abuse as well as for the dancers at the opera house being treated unfairly by the manager as she organizes a strike against them. She also becomes part of the women's suffrage after the events of the story. I could go on and on about Jammes, but instead I'll leave a cute picture of her at the end of this entire analysis. Besides those three, I did like Carlotta, the original singing lead of the opera house. Originally, she became an antagonist towards Christine after she became the lead singer, however, she did apologize to her afterwards and befriended her once more before traveling the world. I love her interactions with Raoul because she basically said that Raoul only has Christine and military training and when he gets angry and lashes out, Carlotta glares and him, causing him to cower (this actually does happen multiple times), and I just found that really, really funny. Mifoid, though useless in the story is actually pretty cute as well, I love his bouncing animation. The last character I'll talk about is Phillip because he became meme material for me and my friend considering he probably is so tired of Raoul talking about Christine (we joked that the reason he was sent to military was so that he didn't have to hear her name again) and while he is mostly a decent but strict character in the story, his last appearance really makes him out as a jerk. I did think it was kind of weird that Phillip was so willing to let Raoul go to the Artic mission considering nobody that has gone there has ever returned, and he was rather elitest towards him, not letting him marry Christine because she's of lower

class but during his last chapter before he dies, he goes on a frenzy after he and Raoul have a fight, revealing to Sorelli that he only dated her for fun and not to actually settle down with her, which is just horrible. It's a bit sad though that Raoul only saw him as someone who tried to get rid of him considering that Phillip did raise Raoul and that his last actions were an attempt to save Phillip from the phantom, and yet Raoul barely has a reaction after seeing his body and doesn't even go to his funeral. It's really sad that Raoul didn't even really cry after seeing Phillip's body, considering that he was basically his father figure.

Overall, it's a good game to play and a good retelling of the Phantom of the Opera. I wouldn't consider the Phantom to be a yandere in this game, but I do think that Raoul is one. Thank you for this recommendation!

[fific7]

Cold Day in Hell - Part 3

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos. (Song mentioned is ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(My GIF)

You lifted Logan’s arm off you and scooted out of the bed at the speed of light, and stood beside it looking down at him. He, meanwhile, had stretched himself out like a big cat right across the bed and was grinning lazily up at you.

“Awww, sweetheart - you spoiled my fun!”

Turning on your heel, saying nothing, you headed to the bathroom and locked the door. You hopped into the shower, praying that he’d have taken the hint and left by the time you emerged. Taking your time, you blow-dried your hair a little and smoothed on the expensive, famous brand body lotion provided by the hotel. Wrapping yourself in one of the hotel’s fluffy bathrobes and picking up your clothes, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and walked into the room.

Logan was still on the bed. In fact, he was now in the bed and had pulled the covers over himself up to his waist, his clothes in a pile on the floor. All of his clothes.

His head turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours and he folded his arms across his bare chest. “You’ve been ages in there, sweetheart. And I needta use the restroom so badly!” He dramatically threw back the bedcovers and you turned away like a flash, squeezing your eyes closed before you got an eyeful.

You felt soft huffs of breath on your neck and Logan whispered, “Oh good, you’re naked too. Well, underneath that robe you are.” You felt long fingers slowly moving the neckline of your robe aside and you clutched at the fabric, pulling it tightly closed. “Logan…. will you please just fuck off!” The fingers left your robe and you heard a deep chuckle, “I’ll only be a few minutes, darlin’, then we can continue this conversation back in bed.”

A thought quickly whizzed through your brain that you’d just told your company’s biggest client to fuck off, but really - he was too much.

The second you heard the bathroom door close, you raced to the wardrobe and pulled out the skirt and blouse you’d decided to wear that day. Grabbing your lingerie, you got dressed in record time and were just doing up the last of your blouse buttons when you heard the door opening again, and quickly shut your eyes again in anticipation of a naked Logan appearing in front of you.

“Ohh, really? You got dressed? It’s too early for that, sweetheart - it’s only 5 am. Take ‘em off and we’ll go back to bed,” you heard, his voice seductive. “Absolutely not, Logan,” you snapped back, “and put your damn clothes back on!”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, “Oh my, you are absolutely no fun at all!” Trying to move away from him, eyes still closed, you came in contact with a toned torso and leapt back from him as if you’d been burned. You banged into the table behind you and a pair of arms instantly went round you. “Careful, angel.” You tried to shove away from him and made the mistake of opening your eyes. Logan tightened his hold on you and his dark espresso eyes were gazing into yours. You didn’t look down but he was pressing his very healthy erection against your lower abdomen and he leant in towards you, lips millimetres away from yours.

Suddenly, you realised you’d parted your lips slightly in anticipation of him kissing you. But he released you, turning quickly away (you trying not to look at that tight ass, really trying) and heading back to his clothes pile. He grabbed them up and headed into the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t mind if I use your shower, angel, do you?” The door closed behind him.

Relieved, you thought, ‘Well, I think I managed to handle that okay. Didn’t I?” You weren’t absolutely sure that you had, but whatever.

You settled back in one of the chairs and switched on the TV. Busy channel-hopping to find something worth your attention, you suddenly heard a loud guttural moan issuing forth from the man in the bathroom.

Okayyyy, well… that sounded like he’d managed to handle it himself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was under the shower, vigorously soaping his body and humming a tune as he did so. It didn’t take too long for his hand to stray down onto his erection and he began stroking. Soon, he leant back against the tiled shower wall as he increased his pace, firmly pulling and squeezing his length before he came with a loud groan. Hope she heard that, he grinned to himself.

The first part of his plan hadn’t gone too badly. He’d got a lot closer to her already but this was him just getting into his stride. He was well aware he had to be careful not to overstep, but… he’d seen the way her lips had parted when she thought he was going to kiss her, so he was going to continue tiptoeing up to the line before stepping quickly back. He had a gut feeling that was the way to go.

He’d make her beg him for it before he was finished.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

As you gathered up your spare handouts and the rest of your stuff at the end of the first investor meeting, you had to admit that you and Logan had worked extremely well together. Neither of you had rehearsed how to approach the meetings past what information you were going to cover, but you’d ended up being a bit of a double act. In fact the two of you had received a round of applause at the end of it.

Logan strolled round the conference table to stand next to you and looking up at him, yet again his sheer magnetism made you catch your breath. You looked down quickly, packing the remaining folders away into your document bag. “That went really well, you were fabulous.” “Thanks Logan, so were you.” As you met his gaze again, he smirked, “Well, I keep trying to show you just how fabulous I am, but you keep shutting me down.”

You opened your mouth to reply but he said quickly, “Just have dinner with me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was feeling very happy with himself. She’d agreed to have dinner with him albeit reluctantly, and he was back in the shower, working shampoo through his hair before rinsing it out and enthusiastically shaking his head to and fro. He started singing “I Knew You Were Trouble”, lovingly stroking and winking at his resting manhood before pouring a generous amount of shower gel into his hand and rubbing it over his body.

Strings pulled, he’d managed to get a table at SkyCity, and he had a really good feeling about tonight. Once she saw the view from the top of the Space Needle and had sipped a few glasses of premium champagne, surely he could charm her into his bed? With a confident spring in his step, he dried himself with one of the big fluffy towels, still singing.

“'𝒞𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃

𝒮𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝐼'𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃

'𝒯𝒾𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃, 𝑜𝒽

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃

𝒮𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝐼'𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓂 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

𝒪𝒽, 𝑜𝒽, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒

𝒪𝒽, 𝑜𝒽, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Laying back in the bath, you swirled your fingers through the fragrant foam on the water’s surface and wondered how long it would take Logan to make his move. Because you knew, as night follows day, that he would hit on you tonight. You weren’t fooled by his earlier tease of almost kissing you. Even if - annoyingly - you knew you would have given in to it if he had. You guessed he’d probably try that approach again to entrap you. Picking up a big handful of foam, you blew it off your palm into the air and groaned.

The handsome big devil! Why did he always have to look so fucking hot?!

Another groan left your lips. You were going to have to firstly be on your guard big time, and secondly - and more importantly - stay in control of your own damn self!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The view was spectacular. The meal was delicious, the champagne flowed and so did the conversation between the two of you. You ended up telling him way more than you’d originally meant to, how you’d had to fight your parents every step of the way to study your chosen subject - they wanted you to be a doctor or a lawyer and had eventually refused to contribute anything towards your education fees. How you still had a slightly frosty relationship with them, especially as your younger brother had gone on to become a doctor and therefore - irrespective of the fact that you’d earned many awards within your field and your salary was double what he made - little brother was perfection personified as far as your parents were concerned.

Logan had snorted as he’d sipped his champagne when you’d said that, and went on to tell you some choice items about James, ‘Daddy Dearest’ as he called him. How he and Juliet had eventually forced him into retirement, and he’d also made some cryptic comments about his ex brother-in-law and something which had happened in Westworld. He’d quickly changed the subject and recounted various other exploits of his while there, eyes sparkling with mischievousness as he mentioned heists and orgies. And the hosts. He told you all about the hosts.

“Sounds like you spend a lot of time with them, Logan,” you commented, strangely jealous of these robots for some reason. He shrugged, “That’s what they’re there for,” smiling at you, “no strings, y’know? No consequences.” You sat back in your chair, “And I guess that appeals to you? Like, a lot.” Logan crossed one long leg over another and also relaxed back in his chair, “I never lie, so the answer’s yes. Yeah, it did. No hassle whatsoever, what’s not to like?” His gaze locked in on you, “Until now, that is.”

You met his eyes, “And what’s different now?” “Maybe I want some strings. A little hassle, some consequences.” Laughing, you sipped your drink, “Really? I’m not sure you do.” He leant forward, “But I do, sweetheart. Because I want you.” You’d just taken another drink and nearly choked as you burst out laughing, “Oh Logan. No…. you don’t want me, you just want a quick fuck. And I’m not up for that in case you hadn’t noticed.” Logan looked offended for a second, then his usual confident look reappeared on his face. “How do you know what I want? If I wasn’t serious, why am I hanging around doing my best to win you over? I’ll be honest with you, I don’t usually need to try too hard, if at all.”

You burst out laughing, “Exactly my point! This is a novelty for you, that’s all. You’ll soon tire of it when you don’t get anywhere and then off you’ll go to an easier lay.” He shook his head, “No, that’s not the case. And who says I won’t get anywhere? Once I set my heart on something, I’ll go all out till I get it. And right now, that means you, angel.” “I’m not a commodity, Logan! I’m not something to acquire and then move quickly on from.” A lazy smile graced his lips, “Oh I know you’re not, sweetheart, believe me. That’s my point. I’m not about to move on.”

You looked across at him sceptically, “Uh-huh. Sure you’re not, Logan.” He leant back in his chair once more, a seductive smile on his face and dark eyes boring into yours, “Okay, let me ask you something. Do you think I’m hot?” Hesitating, you stalled by picking up your glass but his hand landed on yours, stopping you from raising it to your lips. “Nah, no drinking till you answer me.” He says he never lies, you thought, and I don’t think he does so I’ll return the favour. “Okay… yes, I think you’re hot.” He nodded, looking too smug for your liking so you carried on, “But in saying that, I wouldn’t get involved with you because of your rep.”

He nodded once more, a little disappointment now evident, “Yeah, don’t worry! - I definitely got that vibe. But leaving that aside, if you didn’t know all about me and my rep, answer me this. Would you have slept with me if we’d gone out on a date?” You could feel your face heating up and giving you away, so you admitted, “Yes, I would have. You’re hot, Logan, like I said.”

A big grin on his face, he picked up his glass and held it out so you’d clink yours with his. “That’s all I wanted to hear, sweetheart. I’ve got something to work with now.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Back at the hotel, Logan walked you to your room and as you stopped outside your door, thanking him for a lovely evening, he suddenly slid a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. His mouth found yours and he kissed you, lazily, sensually. You felt yourself melting into it, you couldn’t help it. My god does he know how to kiss, screamed your brain.

His lips left yours and you heard him whisper next to your ear, “I’ll show you that I can be different, that I’m not an asshole.” Your hand was on his chest and you could feel his rapid heartbeat. Your own was mirroring it, and you almost caved right there and then.

He stepped back from you, a finger trailing along your jaw, “Sweet dreams, angel. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You watched him walk down the corridor to his own room, and knew you were feeling nothing but regret.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan flicked on the TV with the remote and lay back on his pillows, naked, lifting his glass of whiskey and sipping. He was slowly but surely knocking down those walls of hers, he could tell. He’d felt it when he kissed her, she’d relaxed against him and slid her hands onto his neck and chest.

He was really surprising himself, if he was being honest. Never would he have hung on this long before if someone wouldn’t put out. He supposed that was one big disadvantage of fucking all those hosts, they never said no. And let’s be truthful, in real life people didn’t say no to him either. So he’d never really had to handle rejection before (apart from in his relationship with his darling father of course, but that was a whole other story). He sipped again; perhaps this was why he’d fallen for this new, intriguing, beautiful woman. She told him ‘No’, she wasn’t interested in his status, his money or what she could gain from him either in self-publicity or luxurious celebrity lifestyle.

And that was refreshing. Very refreshing. He was going to carry on with his battle plan, he would not give up until he’d won this woman, this prize. And no, he wasn’t regarding her as an object to be won, like a huge teddy bear in a carnival sideshow. They’d spent a fantastic evening together and he was feeling more and more of a connection with her. He sensed that she had the power to make his life better, to care for him, to bring meaning to his existence. Which scared the fucking crap out of him but it was what it was. He couldn’t stop himself feeling that way, so he’d just go with the flow and see what happened.

He was getting hard thinking about her and his hand slid down onto his cock. ‘Mmm, yeah, a little attention’s required here’, he thought to himself. He began working himself, stroking and squeezing, and soon he was scrabbling for a tissue from the box next to him on the bedside table. He bunched it up around the head of his cock and not a moment too soon. With a loud groan, he came almost immediately into it, expertly catching all of his come in the tissue cocoon he’d created. He wiped the tip and then the rest of his length and screwed up the damp tissue, tossing it into the nearest bin before sighing and relaxing back on his pillows again.

That… helped, but it didn’t satisfy him. Not properly. He needed her for that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Lying awake, your mind was dwelling entirely on what you could have been doing if you’d invited Logan into your room, as you’d so nearly done. A vision of him on top of you, your legs wrapped round his hips. Or you on top of him, riding him like a pony. His hands on your hips, thrusting up into you, his face flushed and contorted with passion.

You shot up in bed. Okay, you were going to have to stop your brain from thinking. Not even wanting to touch yourself, you knew that wouldn’t do it for you when all you desired was Logan. Him. And that body of his.

A drink? Should you have a drink? It might help calm your restlessness. But to be honest, no - you knew it wouldn’t. There was only one thing which you knew would definitely help.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was half-asleep, beginning to drift off into dreams of what he’d like to do to her if he ever got her into his bed. Dream Logan had just begun to lick her nipples when there was a knock at the door. What? Another knock, louder this time. He groggily realised that there was actually someone knocking and got up, grabbing his bathrobe from a chair and shrugging into it as he went to the door and opened it.

It was her. His dream woman. But in reality. Also dressed in a bathrobe and looking at him like he was an oasis in the desert.

She brushed past him and walked in, closing and locking the door behind her. Logan was truly dumbfounded by this turn of events. She stopped in front of him, untying the belt of his bathrobe a little, before lightly placing her hands on his chest. She gazed up into his wide and amazed eyes, playing with the hairs in between his pecs and running her fingers even further down to his money trail. His stomach muscles tensed involuntarily and then she was pushing him backwards, and when he reached the bed she shoved him hard.

Logan fell backwards onto it when the back of his knees hit the mattress, his feet still on the floor, longs legs bent, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at her in amazement. She reached for the belt of his robe again, kneeling down between his legs as she did so and his lips parted, his breath catching. Was she… was she really going to…? The belt fell loose and his robe fell open. She gazed with desire and appreciation at Logan’s erect length, then her fingers were on his tip. His hips jolted upwards and she began squeezing him and stroking her fingers round it, and he saw precum beginning to trickle out as he lay there watching her take him in hand. She gave him a sudden and extra firm squeeze while her other hand took hold of his balls and he yelped, like a damn dog.

Logan couldn’t believe he’d lost control of this situation, but it seemed that he absolutely had. He opened his mouth to speak, but she immediately put a finger to his lips.

“Not a word, Delos. Not one. Single. Fucking. Word.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@obscurilicious @theshadowkingsqueen

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[drabbles-mc]

Take A Little Ride

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request from @bishopslosawife​: What if one of the Mayans’ S/O was an NFR professional barrel rider from the south? Like S/O plans a trail ride for everyone to get them to relax and someone recognizes her and asks her to show off her moves? Maybe S/O has a horse boarding at the stable?

Warnings: language

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: (Sorry if this is the second time you’re seeing this fic! I’ve had some issues with posts disappearing from my blog and the tags and I’m trying to get everything back on track haha.) I know we talked about this fic forever ago, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since lol. We threw around a lot of ideas and I tried to fit as many into this fic as possible without it feeling cluttered. Also, I know this is technically an Angel fic, but we get to see a lot of our boys in this story. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @encounterthepast​ @helli4nthus​ @lilacyennefer​ @angelreyesgirl​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @starrynite7114​ @rosieposie0624​ @queenbeered​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @mijop​ @sadeyesgf​ @xladymacbethx​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @blessedboo​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @holl2712​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @georgiaaintnopeach​  @plentyoffandoms @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​

“Oh come on,” you pleaded as you sat in Angel’s lap, “It would be so fun!”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Yea, for you maybe. I’d have no fuckin’ clue what to do.”

“It’s really not that hard,” you reassured him.

EZ sat down across from the two of you, “What is Angel fighting you about now?” he smirked.

You laughed, “I was saying that we should go for a trail ride sometime soon—all of us. It’s such a good way to unwind.”

“What’s the issue then?” he was clearly confused.

“She means a horseback trail ride, Boy Scout,” Angel piped in with a shake of his head before returning his gaze to you, “Anyone besides you and Taza even know how to ride?”

You paused, trying to think back on your conversations with everyone. Truthfully, now that he said it out loud, you couldn’t say for certain if any of the guys knew how to ride. You didn’t want to cop to that, but you weren’t a good liar, “I have no idea,” you chuckled, “I mean for some reason I wanna say that at one point Riz said something to me about it but I’m not sure. You guys could learn, though! It’s not like we’d be competing or anything, just a nice mellow trip. Like a hike! Besides, it’d be good for you boys to learn something new.”

“Y/N,” Angel started, “I’m not gonna fu—”

EZ cut him off, “I’m game,” he was genuinely interested, but he also loved being a little bit of an instigator when it came to things like this between you and Angel.

Your eyes lit up, “Yea?”

“Bro,” Angel shook his head, “What the fuck?”

“Put it to a vote!” you said excitedly, “That’s what y’all do, right?”

EZ laughed, nodding, “Yea, that’s exactly what we do.”

“What, we gonna go to Templo for this?” it was getting more and more difficult for Angel to keep a straight face.

“We’ll do it right here,” you leaned forward and grabbed your empty beer bottle off the table, rapping it on the wooden surface a few times to get everyone’s attention, “Hey! Boys! I have an offer for ya.”

If Angel had the ability to melt into the couch cushions, he would’ve. The guys could see the look on his face and it only made them more interested in what you were going to say. EZ was sitting back with a smug grin, extremely invested in where this was all going to go.

“What’s the offer?” Taza asked with a soft smile.

“So,” you got up off Angel’s lap, “I know y’all have had a rough couple of weeks. And I think it’d be good for everyone to get out and unwind,” they were all nodding along in agreement so far, “I just so happen to know of a really great ranch about forty minutes North of here. What would you guys say to a day trip and a trail ride? Switch things up a little.”

Taza’s response was immediate, “Sounds good to me.”

You could see the apprehension on some of their faces, so you tried to reassure them, “If you don’t know how to ride, they give you a rundown of the basics. Plus, the horses that they have there are all push-button—absolute gems.”

“How do you know about this place?” Bishop couldn’t help but to ask.

“I’ve been boarding my horse there since I moved to Cali,” you paused, “So, what d’you say?”

Sure enough, everyone started to speak up in agreement. You had never felt so excited. You looked back at Angel, who was shaking his head trying not to crack a smile. He had a feeling it was going to go this way.

“Majority vote,” Bishop said with a laugh, “It passes.”

“Yay!” you clapped, “Alright, I’ll call and get it all set up for this week. It’s gonna be so much fun, trust me.”

As the week passed by, Angel and a few of the other guys asked you questions about just what exactly they had gotten themselves into. They all knew that you rode, but they never thought it would have any crossover with their lives.

You all met up at the clubhouse late Saturday morning. You had your jeans and boots on, along with a tank top. You’d packed a backpack with water bottles and a few snacks, as well as your riding helmet. There was a palpable sense of excitement in the air, along with nervousness.

“You guys might not wanna take the bikes,” you warned with a laugh, “Your legs might be a little sore afterwards.”

They all stood and thought about it for a moment before deciding to take your word for it. They split up and piled into the few trucks they had, allowing you to lead the way since none of them knew where you were going. It was one of the very few times that Angel ever rode shotgun and let you take the wheel. You’d seen EZ crack a smile as his brother begrudgingly handed you the keys.

You rolled into your parking spot at the ranch, instantly jumping out of the truck once it was in park. The rest of the guys weren’t far behind, their vehicles falling into line with yours. You waited for them all and then waved for them to follow you as you confidently strode across the grounds to the barns. A few of the other people there smiled and waved to you, recognizing you from your frequent trips there.

The man who ran the ranch came out of one of the barns, arms out wide as he approached you, “Y/N, so good to see you,” he gave you a hug, “I was excited when they told me about your call.”

“Who’s this fuckin’ guy?” Angel murmured to EZ under his breath, elbowing him when he saw his brother trying to bite back a laugh.

You hadn’t heard the exchange, but you turned around to introduce everyone regardless, “Boys, this is Matthew—owner of this fine establishment and also one of the first people to help me settle in when I moved here to California. Matthew, this is my crew,” you laughed, “Best group of troublemakers you’ll ever meet.”

He laughed, nodding in acknowledgment, “Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure. I’m here to help and get you guys up and running, but you’re in good hands with Y/N here. She knows the trails out here like the back of her hand.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “I wasn’t gonna say it, but he’s totally right,” you clapped, “Let’s get you boys all saddled up and ready to go!”

It was refreshing to see them a little out of their element, with the exception of Taza, and surprisingly enough Coco seemed rather comfortable in the barn. You didn’t comment on it, wanting to see just how much he knew. But so far he had gotten all his tack on without much of an issue, and he seemed really comfortable with the horse they had provided for him.

You went back and forth with the guys about wearing helmets. Angel was adamant that he would be fine without one, “You’re not even gonna wear one! Or Taza!”

You laughed, “And when you’ve clocked as many hours as we have, you won’t have to wear one either. But for now, you’re gonna have to. Deal with it.”

“Yea,” EZ chuckled as he clipped his on, “Gotta save all the braincells that you can.”

“Shut up,” Angel shoved him as they both broke down in laughter.

Your horse was waiting patiently in her stall, all tacked up and ready to go. You were thankful that she was so mellow and patient, because you didn’t have to worry about her while you got everyone else situated. Up until that point, you had never realized just how diverse the ranch was when it came to breeds of horses. Most of them were rescues in some capacity, bought at auction when they weren’t competition or breeding material anymore, but they still made great companions, especially for beginners.

The fact that Taza let the boys struggle on their own a bit wasn’t lost on you. He was already perched atop his horse, waiting for the rest of them to get their acts together. You were certain that it was the most entertained that he had been in a while—you could see it in his eyes. To make up for the lack of Taza’s guidance, you were running around helping however you could.

“C’mon,” Coco taunted as he hoisted himself up onto his horse with ease, “What’s takin’ you guys so long?”

“Since when do you know anything about horses?” Angel said with a hint of bitterness to his voice.

“Psh, you don’t know everything about me, ‘mano. Don’t worry about it.”

Once everyone was on and ready to go, you finally went back to bring your own horse out. She was waiting patiently as ever in her stall. You slid the door open and stepped inside, gently resting your forehead against hers. It was exciting to be able to share this part of your life with all of them, even if it was going to be a little extra chaotic the first time around. You hoped, though, that they would enjoy it enough to want to come back and do it again. You thought that it would be good for them, because it certainly was for you.

You led your horse out of the barn, not that you really needed to be holding onto her reins anyway—she’d follow you wherever you went almost without question. You had her stop so you could slip your foot into your stirrup and hoist yourself onto her. The guys looked on in slight awe, not able to believe that it was so easy for someone of your height to climb up that easily onto a horse that was so tall.

Once you were situated in your stirrups and adjusted your backpack, you turned and looked around at your crew with a wide smile on your face, “Everyone feel like they sorta know what they’re doing? Matthew give you an overview of the basics?” there were various mumbled of agreement as they nodded their heads and you had to laugh, “You’ll be fine. Just remember, gentle on the reins—it’s attached to their mouths. Squeeze with your legs and nudge with your heels if you wanna go faster. These horses are super well trained so you shouldn’t need to kick, or be loud with them at all. Just use a clear voice,” you paused, “We should probably do a couple laps around the arena first before I take you guys off-roading,” you laughed, “Follow me.”

Admittedly, you were pretty impressed at how well the guys were picking it up. A lot of it had to do with the horses that they were riding, but still. It was the first time you could ever remember Bishop seeming out of his element and you had to admit that you found it amusing. Angel and Gilly found themselves struggling together while EZ practically rode laps around them, of course.

“Show-off,” Angel said with a laugh and a shake of his head as he shifted slightly in his saddle.

“You’re just mad because I’m already good,” EZ chuckled as he made his way over to where you and Taza were watching the rest of them.

Once you started making your way towards the trail, you and Coco found yourselves side by side. You glanced over at him and had to smile at how comfortable he seemed. For a man who seemed to be a little jumpy at baseline, he seemed really calm.

“I have to admit,” you said as you glanced back to make sure you didn’t lose anyone yet, “you surprised me a little bit with all of this,” you gestured to him and the horse.

He laughed, “Yea, I’m full of fuckin’ surprises.”

“You ride for a long time?”

He shrugged, “Not in a while. Started when I finished my four years. One of the guys who came back with me told me to try out equine therapy. Seemed kinda pointless but I really wasn’t in a position to be sayin’ no to anything—I was pretty fucked up. And it helped. Stopped when I started getting in with the club.”

You nodded, unable to hide how invested you were in everything that he was telling you, “Got it. That why the guys didn’t know?”

“Yea. Plus, they don’t gotta know everything,” he chuckled.

The topic fell by the wayside as the group of you continued on your little adventure. It was peaceful, and it was nice to hear all of them laughing and joking around with each other. You felt like you were constantly turning around to make sure that you hadn’t lost track of anyone, but you really didn’t mind it. It was hard to not be a little amused at how out of sorts Angel still seemed. The downside of being as tall and lanky as he was, is that it’s impossible to miss when he is feeling uncomfortable or out of his comfort zone. It was written all over his body language.

You looped around so you could land yourself next to him. You smiled over at him as he focused intensely on his reins, “Still getting the hang of it?”

“You guys make it look so easy.”

You laughed, “We’ve got years of practice. You’ll pick it up.”

“Gilly wants to know why he’s the only one that didn’t get a horse,” Angel laughed.

You chuckled and shook your head, “Mules are great, he’s got nothing to complain about. They’re strong, and smart, and a little stubborn but that’s just like the rest of you guys so it should be fine.”

“I know I’m not good at this shit,” he shifted slightly in his saddle, “and I dunno if I ever will be. But it’s nice to see you enjoying yourself like this. I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you like this.”

You smiled, feeling your face get warm, “Well, now you know,” you paused, laughing, “Plus I think this is one of the only times that I’ve been better than you at something.”

“Couldn’t let it be a sweet moment, could you?”

You chuckled, “Is this how you feel all the time with me?”

“I’m not better than you at everything, querida. Stop bein’ dramatic,” he smiled.

“Cooking and horseback riding are the two things I definitely have over you. And I’m holding onto those for dear life,” you laughed.

“I’ll let you have them. Just for you, I promise I won’t get any better at this.”

“For me?” you pressed a hand to your chest with a smile, “You’re too sweet.”

You nudged your horse onward so you could get back to the front of the pack. You’d ridden the trails hundreds of times but they never got any less beautiful. They were different than where you used to ride back home but the change was nice. The trail that you had taken them on was one of the easier ones—no crazy inclines or anything like that. It was a slow but steady ride up one of the smaller peaks that surrounded the ranch. The view from the top was beautiful—you could see for miles. You had a feeling that the guys were going to love it.

“We’re almost to the top,” you called back over your shoulder.

Within a few minutes, the whole group of you had made it to the clearing at the top of the peak. They were all letting out their own murmurs of approval and you felt so proud of yourself. A few of them hopped down, wanting to get a little closer to the cliff edge so they could look down over it. There was nothing but the sound of the breeze and the screaming of the birds while you all stayed there and took in the view. It was the most peace that they’d probably felt in a while.

“Pretty great, right?” you looked over at Angel, who had managed to guide his horse to they were right next to you.

He nodded, “Beautiful. Had no idea any of this was out here.”

“This is what I used to do with pretty much all of my free time when I first moved here, back before I really knew anyone.”

“You gave this shit up to hang out with us?” Angel chuckled as he gestured to the rest of the guys.

You laughed, shaking your head, “I didn’t give it up. I still come out here at least once every weekend, if not more during the week if work allows for it. I still make the time.”

“I love you,” he had a starry look in his eyes as he gazed over at you.

You smiled, “I love you too. Thanks for doing this—I know you weren’t really all that thrilled about it.”

“I’m glad I did. It’s nice to see something that means so much to you.”

After a few more minutes of lingering, chatting, and getting photos of everyone, it was time to complete the loop and head back towards the ranch. You were glad that the guys had pacified you and allowed you to do a little impromptu photoshoot of them with their horses—it was a moment that you wanted to remember. They were quite the diverse pack and you couldn’t help but to smile.

The ride back down was smooth. It was evident that for the most part, the guys were starting to feel more comfortable in their saddles. There weren’t as many, “oh fuck’s” said under their breath. There was a little more talking and joking going on and it made your heart feel fuller.

Cutting through the quietness of the trail was Angel’s voice, “Shit, fuck, oh fuck,” he wasn’t yelling but you could tell that he was worried.

You whipped your head around to see what was wrong, and you had to bite back your laughter as you watched the scene that was playing out. Angel’s horse had bumped up from a walk to a jog and clearly it wasn’t Angel’s doing. The panic that was on his face was priceless. Realistically, the horse wasn’t even going that fast, but it was enough to send Angel into panic mode.

“I’m just gonna fuckin’ jump off.”

You laughed, “Do not jump off. Just apply a little pressure to the reins and tell him to walk. He should slow right down. They don’t understand curse words.”

He did as you instructed, and sure enough the horse dropped right back down to a leisurely walk. You were trying not to laugh but the rest of the guys weren’t as kind and forgiving as you. You knew that that was going to be something that he wasn’t going to be living down anytime soon.

The rest of the descent was uneventful. The whole squad made it back down to the base of the trail unscathed. You hopped down off your horse and began to help all of them to do the same. You told them where to go and put all of their tack once they took it off, and also told them that if they could walk their horses for a couple minutes just to help cool them down it would be appreciated. It wasn’t the most intensive ride but it would still be good for them. Besides, it would be good for the guys and their legs too.

You were getting ready to bring your horse in when a girl came walking up to you, trying to politely get your attention. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen. Her t-shirt and jeans were streaked with dirt but there was a giant smile on her face as she walked up to you and your horse.

“Hi, excuse me, are you Y/N?” her voice was quiet, shy.

You nodded, slightly confused, “I am. Everything alright?”

“Yea! I just, um, god sorry I don’t mean to be weird. I used to watch you race, though. I went to almost every NFR circuit event for a few years back when we still lived in Nevada. They said you moved but I had no idea it was here and I,” she stopped herself, “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

You shook your head, smiling, “Don’t be sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fan before,” you laughed.

“Well that’s not true,” the girl laughed. She paused for a few moments, “Would it…would it be weird to ask if I could see you do a run?”

You raised your eyebrows, “A barrel run?”

She nodded excitedly, “Yea.”

You laughed, “I mean, I don’t see why not. I’m a little out of practice but I think we can still manage it,” you patted your horse on the shoulder.

“Oh my god this is so cool. The big arena inside is already set up—I just finished my lesson.”

The two of you walked together, your horse following behind without you having to hold too tightly on the reins. You listened to her gush and talk about riding and it made you miss what it felt like to be training for competitions. You didn’t regret stepping back from it to live the life that you have now, but there was nothing quite like that rush of adrenaline.

The guys had heard the entire interaction and all of them had since gotten their own horses situated so they could come and see what was about to happen. EZ and Angel were leaning against the side of the arena, their voices carrying in the echo chamber it created.

“You know she used to compete?” EZ asked as he watched you hop back up onto your horse.

“Yea, I mean, she mentioned it,” Angle replied, “Didn’t know that she was a fuckin’ celebrity, though.”

“Paparazzi is gonna show up any minute,” Bishop materialized next to them, chiming in with a laugh.

You settled into your saddle, getting both you and your horse positioned so that you could start your run. You could tell that she felt the shift in energy as the two of you stood at the entrance to the arena. You could feel her starting to get a little antsy, a little wound up. It had been a long time since you ran the pattern, but you had no doubt that it would be like riding a bike for the two of you.

As soon as you nudged her with the heel of your boot, your horse took off. You couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted out of you as she flew around the first barrel, gliding seamlessly into the turn. You could faintly hear the guys from the sideline over the sound of the wind in your ears. You felt your hat fly off your head and you didn’t even care. You’d almost forgotten how fun it was to neck-rein at that high of a speed.

You looped around the second barrel, and the third, and your horse all but flew down the center of the pattern as she ran out of the arena. You sat back in your saddle, trying to get her to slow down but you didn’t really want her to. It had to have felt just as good for her as it did for you—the two of you hadn’t done more than a light canter in a while and she was clearly itching to get out some pent-up energy.

Finally she slowed to a walk as you turned her around to head back towards the arena. The young girl came running out of the building with a huge smile on her face, your hat hanging from her fingertips.

“That was so cool!” she handed your hat back to you.

You hopped down off your horse with a smile, “That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, I can’t lie,” you laughed, “I’m glad you asked us to run it—that felt amazing.”

“Do you board here?” she looked at you expectantly.

You nodded, “I sure do. Here every weekend, pretty much. Not that we’re really training to compete anymore, but you know.”

“If we’re ever here at the same time do you think that you could give me some pointers?”

You nodded, feeling your heart swell inside your chest, “Absolutely.”

“Yes! Oh that’s so awesome. Thank you so much. I’ll, um, I’ll let you get back to your friends. But thank you so much.”

You smiled, “Of course. I’ll see you around.”

She bounded off, an excited spring to her step. You chuckled and shook your head as you started to lead your horse back to the barn so you could take off her saddle and bridle. As the two of you meandered, Angel and the guys all came out of the arena, looks of surprise all over their faces.

“What the fuck was that, querida?” Angel laughed as he shook his head in disbelief.

“What?” you feigned ignorance.

“When were we gonna find out that you know how to do all that?” EZ piped up.

“I told you guys that I ride!”

“That,” Angel threw his arm around your shoulder, “was not just riding. That was insane! You guys were fucking flying.”

“Shoulda seen how fast we could go when we were actually training for it.”

“Also, didn’t know that you were apparently a celebrity,” there was a smirk on his face as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

You laughed and shook your head, “Not a celebrity. The horse world is a small one.”

“You gonna be able to teach us how to do all that?” EZ asked with a laugh.

“Not a fucking chance,” you smiled over at him, “But you guys are more than welcome to come here with me any time.”

“Well now we definitely have to,” Angel said, “Gotta see what other moves you’re holding out on.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “you’ll see. Don’t worry.”

[soulmate-game]

Part 2: The same prompt, but Siblings this time

Tim paused the video on his computer, the red figure on it in mid-leap off of a building. Be rewound the video, played it, paused again at the same time stamp.

No, his eyes were not deceiving him. The video was not doctored.

So what the hell was going on?

“Hey Timmie, find anything on that Paris situation Bruce asked you to look into?” Dick’s voice made Tim startle, nearly spilling his coffee all over the keyboard and possibly deleting his hard-earned research. Rescuing his lifeblood from certain doom, he hugged his mug to his chest and glared at his older brother for a second. Dick was not in the least bothered, used to this sort of reaction from the younger detective. Dick just grinned, leaning on the back of Tim’s chair and looking up at the images on the large computer screen above them. He whistled lowly, impressed. “You’ve made a lot of progress, nice! Anything you wanna share with me before the debrief tonight?”

Tim clenched and unclenched his jaw, weighing his options. Dick waited patiently, knowing that sometimes Tim needed a minute to sort through his rapid-forming thoughts. Finally Tim sighed, setting down his mug grimly.

“Actually, yes,” he admitted. Tim’s tense tone immediately made Dick stiffen, straightening up. His eyebrows pulled down, and he returned his gaze to the computer.

“Okay, that’s your serious voice. What is it?”

“I… need your confirmation with something,” Tim turned around and looked straight at Dick. And he hesitated again, because certain… past interactions with his eldest brother once again flashed through his head. The entire Bruce-is-alive and being threatened with Arkham interaction, to be specific. But Tim needed to know the truth, it was his fatal flaw he supposed. He couldn’t back away in fear of how Dick might react.

“Ohhhhkay?” Dick just grew more and more concerned the longer that Tim took to actually speak.

“So, just to recap. There are only four people in history who have been able to do a quadruple somersault, right?” Tim asked, knowing full well the answer. Dick, predictably, shifted and grew even more on alert at the inquiry. He knew that couldn’t mean anything good. His jaw clenched, and his hands formed tight fists. But Dick also remembered the Bruce incident with Tim all that time ago, and he didn’t want to repeat his mistakes. So he forced himself to take a deep breath, and shake himself away from jumping to conclusions.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded. “Me, my parents, and my sister,” he confirmed rigidly. Tim nodded, and then rewound the video on the screen again, nodding to show that Dick should focus on it.

“Okay. But watch this,” Tim suggested, starting the video again. Dick watched as the red and black-spotted heroine of Paris, Ladybug, zipped through the air and around buildings with her yo-yo. He watched as she let go, at a height that even a normal person could manage, and executed four perfect somersaults in mid-air before landing nimbly on the ground. Tim paused the video again, his eyes never leaving Dick’s tense face.

“It isn’t doctored,” Tim said, filling the silence and preemptively answering the questions he knew he would get. “I checked. Magic is involved, but Constantine and Zatanna both confirmed it would have no hold over basic physical abilities like flexibility or… gymnastics. Only specifically combat styles used by past Ladybugs can be transferred magically to the next Ladybug, not this.”

“Tim,” Dick’s voice was terrifyingly blank. “What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing yet,” Tim was quick to hold up his hands in surrender. “I’m still doing research. It’s possible, though extremely unlikely, that she managed to teach herself how to do that. You tell me, Dick, how likely is it?”

Dick swallowed, not wanting to say it but knowing he had to look at the facts. “... At her age? Next to impossible,” he admitted. “She could learn it, theoretically, as young as seven or eight, but only if someone who knew what they were doing taught her since she was about three.”

Tim nodded again. He knew those numbers, he knew where they came from.

“Then— and this is only a theory right now— we have what I think is the more plausible scenario,” Tim swallowed. This was the hard part. “Your sister was kidnapped after your parent’s death, but the body that was found wasn’t actually her’s. It wasn’t in a state to be physically identified, so—“

“I know what state it was in, Tim!” Dick snapped, forcing himself to take a few steps back and just breath. Even now, the image of a tiny body burned beyond recognition was burned into the inside of his eyelids, there to taunt him whenever he blinked or slept and let his mind wander in just the wrong direction. She would be… what, Jason’s age, now? She was seven… only seven, when their parents died and she ran off into the Gotham streets in despair. When she was kidnapped, as is what happens in Gotham.

When Dick was presented with a body he could not say WASN’T her’s a week later.

“The DNA…” Dick tried. “They said…”

“I know,” Tim’s voice was carefully soft. “But the records on your family’s DNA were all kept by the circus back then. The Talons had access to those files. It’s very possible they were tampered with. Switched. It wouldn’t be hard for them to burn your sister’s actual medical files and replace them with forged copies that had someone else’s DNA on them. The data of the girl who actually died.”

Dick closed his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t want to hope, it would hurt too much if Tim was wrong.

Tim had been right about more unlikely things than this, a voice in the back of his head whispered. And yeah, that was true. But Dick was still too scared to hope.

“Finish your research, Tim,” Dick’s voice was strained with suppressed emotion. He couldn’t even look at the younger vigilante as he left the Cave. “Find out who Ladybug’s civilian persona is, and then we’ll talk.”

Tim could only sigh in relief when Dick was gone. That could have gone much worse.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week later, the entire family was gathered. This was the full debrief on the Paris case, rather than the progress update that they had had to do before. Research took longer than Tim had expected, he had years of data to go through after all. But he had come away with exactly what he had been looking for.

After running through the overall situation and where the fight against HawkMoth was at in the present day, Tim licked his lips and took a deep breath. This was it, the Who-Is-Ladybug part.

“I was able to get security footage of her detransformation, just one lucky shot from ten years ago, when this whole thing began,” he prefaced. “She was thirteen years old, and untrained as far as heroism goes, so it stands to reason she didn’t know yet how to be properly careful about transforming. This is that security picture,” he carefully put the enlarged picture up on the Batcomputer, as well as sliding a physical copy onto the table for everyone to pass around.

Dick didn’t even try to grab it, his eyes glued to the computer, expression unreadable. The picture was a little grainy, but most of the girl’s face could be made out. Pigtails, dark black hair that shimmered blue in direct light, blue eyes.

But it was the next picture that Tim pulled up that pushed everything over the edge.

“These are the official pictures of her that I was able to get from Paris records. This first picture is of her at the same age at the security footage, thirteen. The second picture is her now, age twenty-three,” Tim said, before the side-by-side came up on the screen. Tim’s eyes slid over to Dick, who was frozen in his seat, just staring at the images silently. He wasn’t even breathing.

“Dick?” Bruce asked, immediately noticing the behavior. His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

Dick’s next breath came in with a shudder, and he clenched his eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop the tears that came out. He choked out a broken chuckle, shaking his head and giving out a lopsided, watery grin.

“Heh. Another point for Timmy being right,” Dick jokes weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“What do you mean? Tim?” Bruce turned to the younger of the two insistently. “What’s going on? Who is she?”

“Currently, according to Parisian records, she is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim told them. “More specifically, her full name is Marinette Gray Dupain-Cheng. Which I believe is what she chose to change her name to after she was kidnapped sixteen years ago from right outside Haley’s Circus, and illegally transported to France,” Tim clicked another button to bring up a third picture in the side-by-side. It was of someone who was clearly a younger Marinette, but in the very familiar costume of the Flying Graysons, standing right next to a twelve-year old version of Dick. “Because her birth name is Marie Natalia Grayson. Dick’s younger sister, who until now was presumed dead. But I was able to confirm that the medical records back then for Marie were forged, and the information on them could not actually belong to her. The body that was presented as Marie’s… was a red herring to hide that Marie was no longer in America at all.”

Dick’s sob-laugh drew everyone’s attention back to the first Robin, who was now silently, openly, crying. Nobody really knew how to deal with that, and the room descended into awkward silence as Dick tried to regain his composure a little.

“Marinette… Gray,” he whispered, chuckling again and shaking his head as he wiped at his cheeks. “That idiot… her ability with subtlety hasn’t gotten any better, that’s for sure,” he was smiling now, still staring at the pictures of Marinette on the screen. Of his beautiful little sister, all grown up and not buried six feet under like he had thought for far too long.

Because this was different from Hope. This was certainty. The face, the far too on-the-nose name, the somersaults, Dick had even noticed it in the way she swung on her yo-yo. The body memory from years of Trapeze, those little quirks he recognized as belonging to his sister that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. But now, all together, he could admit to himself that it was her. It was really her.

Could it be a clone? Maybe. Maybe. But that was why Dick snuck out to France the very next day, informing absolutely nobody.

Because he had a test that only the real Marie would be able to pass.

—*—*—*—*—*

"How did you- No, nevermind, I don't want to know, plausible deniability and all that,” the deep, unfamiliar male voice made Marinette squeak in shock, nearly dropping the phone in her hands. She leaned so far to her right that she almost fell over, but her nearly perfect balance (that only failed her when she was nervous or self conscious) kept her upright.

Her eyes darted down to her phone screen, where an app that Max had helped her create was opened. It utilized at least five hundred little fly-shaped drones that Markov managed and kept track of to scan the city for corrupted butterflies and recognize the level of stress or other negative emotions that civilians were experiencing. It cut down severely on patrol time that the crew had to do, making it easier for them to balance their hero and civilian lives and also allowed for them to arrive at the scene of Akuma attacks twice as fast as before— along with helping with the original purpose of catching evidence to use against Hawkmoth, of course.

Marinette straightened her back, smiling sheepishly and closing out the app. She had just been making a routine check, it had only been open for a minute. How had he managed to sneak up on her in that time? Only chat could do that anymore.

That is, until Marinette turned around the rest of the way and got a good look at the man. Her eyes widened— what was Nightwing, a vigilante from Gotham, doing there?

“I don’t see what plausible deniability has to do with anything,” she replied in easy, unaccented English. She might not speak it often, but she did stay in practice. Even now a lot of her fashion notes and thoughts were in either English or Romani. “It’s just a game app that my friend created,” the practiced lie flew easily past her lips, and she was able to even smile confidently and begin to happily ramble about Max’s (public) achievements like she would in any normal situation. “It is still in the test phase of course, but it uses virtual reality and mapping technology to create a treasure hunt sort of adventure game that people can do as they walk around. Like Pokémon go, but with real-time footage of the city— with people not included besides the game characters of course— and it rewards caution as well as keeping active,” she explained their cover story for the app happily. But Nightwing only smiled easily at her with his arms crossed, clearly not believing a single word.

“Ah— but that probably isn’t interesting,” Marinette purposely stuttered, turning her face into one of (surprisingly genuine) confusion as she looked at the vigilante. “What are you here for anyway, Monsieur? This doesn’t seem like—“

“I have a riddle that a friend of mine told me to ask you,” he interrupted, instantly putting Marinette on guard. She took a step back, eyebrows pulling down at the odd request. But still, she chuckled nervously and shrugged. She had to maintain appearances after all.

“Uh, sure..? Riddles are fun, in the right circumstances I guess.”

Nightwing beamed happily, nearly blinding the poor girl. “Awesome!” His next words came out in fluent Romani though: “If a Hummingbird ever gets lost, what kind of animal will track it down?”

Marinette’s mouth went dry, her shoulders dropping. Her mouth opened and closed, the shock of the question leaving her unable to even pretend she didn’t understand exactly what was said. Nightwing’s gaze grew more intense, yet his smile got impossibly soft.

Marinette swallowed thickly, and she took a deep breath before responding in Romani: “You shouldn’t— only one person—“

“That doesn’t answer the riddle, ma’am.”

Marinette’s confusion turned into a harsh glare. “He would never tell someone else to ask me that. What are you trying to play at, Nightwing?” She hissed harshly, still in her native language.

“Listen, Marinette,” Nightwing held up both hands to try to calm her down. It did the opposite, making her take another step back. “Batman and the rest of our team has been looking into the Hawkmoth security—“ Marinette cursed, clearly seeing where this was going. “— We believe he found out who Ladybug is. But, we also found signs that your real name is—“

“Shut up!” She yelled in English, fists clenched tightly. Luckily she had gone into an alleyway to check her phone, or else they would be attracting attention by then. Her eyes sparked with anger. “You don’t get to use that name. And if you’re so smart,” Marinette tucked her phone into her purse and scaled the wall next to her nimbly, perching on the roof as Nightwing cursed and began to follow her. “Then try to predict my moves, birdy.”

It only took a few minutes and crossed rooftops for Marinette to call on her transformation and pick up speed. She knew by then that Nightwing, and probably the other Bats too, already found her out. Not ideal, but manageable. Now she wanted to show him why he shouldn’t come into her territory and dig into her past and think he could get away with it.

Somewhere during the chase, more Bats appeared one by one. Judging by what Ladybug was able to overhear, they had come as soon as they realized where Nightwing had snuck off to.

That made Marinette pause from where she hid behind a sloped roof, in the middle of a call to her own teammates. Nightwing hadn’t come on his team’s orders?

Why the hell had he come, then?

She shook thought thoughts away, focusing on her plan. Paris was her city, and she would make sure the Bats learned their lesson when it came to sticking their nose in Parisian business.

“Bug?” The soft, concerned call came from her yo-yo and pulled her from her contemplating. Max, in full Pegasus attire, was frowning at her in worry on the small screen. She just shook her head at him.

“I’m fine, Peg. Just don’t like how this feels like Gotham ruining my life again,” she remarked sourly. “But I’m fine. Start plan We’re Not Kids.”

Max nodded, but rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like; “even though we made this plan when we actually were kids…”

A portal opened in the air a few seconds later, releasing Honeybee in all her gold and black glory. The winged hero zipped through the air, immediately putting team Miraculous at an advantage since team Bat didn’t want to actually harm them.

It took a glorious five seconds for Honeybee to paralyze them all before Tortoise dropped out from another portal and surrounded the temporarily paralyzed vigilantes in a dome shield that kept them in just as easily as it kept everything else out.

One by one, Marinette’s teammates dropped out of more portals until Pegasus himself joined them. Ladybug took that as her que to come out, leaping over her hiding place to land in front of her friends, who had formed a half-circle in front of the trapped dome.

“Vixen,” she called to the fox-themed hero, whose ears twitched before she straightened to attention. “Create an illusion to hide us. The last thing we need are any pictures or anyone asking questions.”

“Got it!” Vixen agreed easily, raising her flute to her lips. A short melody later, and their surroundings warped. To those inside the illusion, it seemed as if the world merely ended off of the rooftop they were on, into only blankness. Outside, that very rooftop appeared empty.

It was then that Chat Noir stepped up to take Ladybug’s side, his acidic green eyes scanning over the Gotham vigilantes trapped inside Tortoise’s protective barrier.

“You can release the paralysis, Honeybee,” his order was noticeably softer than Ladybug’s clear commands. It was obvious that he was the deputy in this situation, the flexibility to Ladybug’s iron leadership. That was when the red clad hero crossed her arm, resuming control of the situation wordlessly. The Gotham heroes briefly glowed gold as Honeybee let their paralysis begin to gradually wear off.

“Paris is my city,” Ladybug’s voice was at a normal volume, but came out with such auditory steel that it was clear she expected to be listened to, or she’d know why. “If I needed or wanted your help, I would have asked for it. Now, if you had come here normally to offer aid, then we might be having a different discussion right now,” her eyes narrowed further. “But you dug into my past. You violated my privacy. And Nightwing, you crossed a line,” she would have continued if the blue and black clad hero didn’t use his sudden ability to move to rip off his mask.

Marinette’s voice died in her throat, and for a while she thought she might be hallucinating. Those eyes, that face— she knew them. She knew them, because she saw them whenever she dared close her eyes. Because the dreams she had, the dreams that made her never want to drag herself out of bed because she wanted to believe those dreams were real so badly, always contained those eyes. And that face, though it had been much younger in her memories.

She stumbled, and only Chat’s presence at her side kept her from toppling right over.

“Bugaboo?” He asked frantically, distraught. She just shook her head dazedly, pushing herself back to her feet and away from her partner.

“I’m fine, Chat. Just…,” she assured her partner, but her eyes never left Nightwing. She licked her lips nervously, before continuing; “... Bluebird,” she whispered, making Nightwing’s eyes widen. Her brother’s eyes. “That’s the answer to the riddle, right?”

Slowly, a wide smile split his face before he began to laugh happily, despite Robin slapping Nightwing’s mask back on his face with a furious grumble.

“Ladybug?” Tortoise asked, stepping up to her other side cautiously. Seeing as they were all adults now, none of them had to worry about time or power limits anymore. “Are you..?”

“Release the shield,” she ordered instead of answering, her eyes clearly damp behind her mask. “I need to strangle my idiotic older brother for scaring the hell out of me.”

That made the rest of her team make their various exclamations of shock, but Chat and Tortoise stayed silent. Chat just put a hand on Ladybug’s shoulder in support, while Tortoise zipped his wide gaze back to Nightwing before sighing and releasing his ability.

“Only you, Bug,” the green clad hero groused playfully. “Only you.”

If Marinette Dupain-Cheng suddenly introduced her long-lost brother to her closest friends and family that same night, nobody voiced the coincidence out loud.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1: Romance

Part 3: Bio!Parent

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 12

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Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim had exactly zero idea what was going on.

Marinette had disappeared into the shower so he’d figured that, hey, work was over and he was 90% sure it was the day she usually shaved (something he knew because every time she shaved she excitedly asked him to touch her leg because it was smooth) so he had time to kill…

He walked over to her jewelry box.

He’d already bugged all of the new jewelry he had bought her but her old stuff was perfectly intact and he kind of wanted more insurance. Sure, they lived together now so it was unlikely she would have much reason to leave without him, but he was known for his millions of plans and contingencies and he wasn’t about to mess up when it was someone he cared about.

So, he went to work on the first necklace he grabbed. It had a tiny cat with green emeralds for eyes.

He looked at the tiny black pupils that the cat had. He pulled a tiny pick out of his pocket and carefully started carving a circle in it for the bug.

And then a bug-shaped god came flying out of the door for something.

There were a few beats as Tim and Tikki stared at each other.

Tikki broke it with a loud groan.

He watched her float past him for the towel hung on Marinette’s bedpost and then go back inside.

Shit.

He darted towards the bathroom, only to pause at the door. He really didn’t want to burst in while Marinette was probably naked, that was a huge breach of privacy, but he also didn’t want Tikki to tell him about all the bugs he was planting! Shit! He bit his lip, considering.

“Here’s your towel, Marinette,” Tikki said with a sharp edge to her tone.

“... are you mad?”

“Not at you. Where are the cookies you baked last night?”

“Uh, the fridge --?”

“Thank you.”

Why hadn’t she told her? Tim wasn’t complaining, of course, but he was a little confused. She was clearly mad about it and he doubted that Marinette had made some rule that said ‘you can’t tell me about people bugging me’ because that was oddly specific and not a very good idea… so… what?

He didn’t know. He was just going to thank the god of luck -- he was pretty sure that was Tikki -- and continue what he was doing.

~

Marinette didn’t have to struggle to keep everyone inside the first night. She liked that. More time to plan.

But how did she get herself let out, you may ask?

Remember how Tim had said that all-hands-on-deck situations are the only exceptions to the Stay Inside While Injured Rule? Well, guess what had happened.

Arkham had had a huge breakout and Marinette wasn’t going to complain… even if her kwami might be a little disappointed in how happy she was about it.

She was even happier when she’d found out that one of the people that had broken out was Scarecrow. She’d been meaning to tell him about her guesses about his brownie recipe for a while and she hadn’t really had a chance to do it when she was talking to him through a phone with a thick glass between them.

Batman -- Bruce? -- didn’t need to know that they’d broken into a bakery for the night to test out their theories before she had taken him back to Arkham.

He’d thank them when he got the brownies (the missing ingredient was Mexican cinnamon!). Or, at least, she hoped he would.

~

Tim had to say… Marinette's plan to get everyone in her house was working.

He could warn his siblings but, honestly, he found it kind of funny.

He was surprised to see Jason show up first. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Didn’t know you were in town, Flamebird.”

Jason did an exaggerated eye roll that Tim swore he could see despite the domino. “Marinette said she had something she wanted to show me.”

And she did. She walked over and dropped the Harry Potter books onto the window ledge beside him. “This is terrible and I hate you for making me read them.”

“It gets better later on --.”

“I read two books. That’s six hundred pages. If you can’t get your shit together in six hundred fucking pages then you don’t deserve my time.”

He scoffed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Oh yeah? Read it. It’s been years for you, right? Get to book three and tell me it’s good.”

Jason scowled and grabbed the books, taking a seat in the armchair.

Tim grinned and rested an arm around his girlfriend. “You don’t actually hate Harry Potter, do you?”

“Only the book version.”

He frowned. “I think we need to break up.”

“Nope. Not allowed to break up with me.”

“Oh, well, if I’m not allowed then I guess I won’t,” he said, leaning down to press a tiny kiss to her lips.

There was a groan from the window and they both rolled their eyes, turning to look at Damian.

“Why must you sully my good mood so early on with your disgusting displays of affection?”

“It’s our apartment, you just so happen to be here,” said Tim, glaring at his brother. “We can do what we want.”

Marinette, bravely, stepped between the two of them with a bright smile. “Now, boys, it’s not the time.”

“It is not the time for your libido, and yet...” argued Damian.

“Please, that isn’t even close to libi --,” Tim started, only to get elbowed in the stomach.

She gave him a look that told him to let her handle it and, while he didn’t think that was a good idea, he held up his hands in surrender.

“Robin, it’s unbecoming of you to argue with everyone you meet,” she chided lightly.

… did she speak Damian or something? Because Damian actually looked a little reprimanded at that and Tim needed to learn her ways.

Then, she leaned down with a grin. He could see her hands start to rest on her knees but she thought better of it at the last second. “I got some new stuff from the pet store and I wanted to know if you wanted to help test them out on Vanelope.”

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly. “What kinds of new things?”

“A bunch of cat toys.”

“... I suppose I can test them out for you.”

“I mean, I said you could help --,” she started, but Damian was already heading towards Vanelope without her.

Tim looked over at his girlfriend. She didn’t seem all that put out by this.

“You really had something planned out for everyone?”

She smirked and took a seat on the windowsill. “Yep. It should take Flamebird about two days to finish the first two books -- assuming he can even get through them that quickly -- and Robin is sure to be very thorough in his testing of all the cat toys.”

“Oh? And what’s your plan for everyone else?”

She shrugged just slightly. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

When Dick appeared she set him up with Beat Saber, saying that she was curious about why the VR glasses gave her a headache and wanted to see if he had the same problem. Tim knew the problem was that they were made for men and therefore sometimes had negative side effects for women, but he bit his lip before he could offer to get a set custom-made for her in favor of watching Dick select the poppiest pop song in existence and instantly get addicted to the game.

Tim raised his eyebrows slightly when Steph appeared, textbook in hand.

“How did you know everyone would show up?” He asked once Marinette had set her up with a particularly long and difficult worksheet to make sure she got the lesson.

“Well, Spoiler shows up every Saturday night for tutoring, Robin comes by every other day or more and he didn’t stop by last night, Nightwing pops by most weekends, and I called Flamebird over myself… speaking of which…” She pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons. “Right, Signal said he’ll be here in ten minutes seven minutes ago… so, he’s almost here.”

Tim grinned. “You forgot Cass.”

“She only ever really shows up to get away from all of you guys so, with everyone here, she’d have no reason to come over.” Her face split into a sheepish grin. “Also, she’d see through me pretty quickly.”

“Don’t you want B to have no help?”

She shrugged. “It should be a light night since almost everyone important is in Arkham right now but that doesn’t mean that the two of them can deal with all of Gotham’s petty crime on their own. I give them until three or four before they crack.”

“... you might be a little scary.”

“You don’t last long as a vigilante if you’re not at least a little smart,” she chirped. “I just choose to turn my brain off most of the time.”

He smiled. “Oh? And the exception is what? Making you stay inside?”

She waved him off. “Kind of. It’s more that I only put effort into making sure I’ll never be bored. What’s the point of thinking about anything else? All that does is make you sad.”

Well that didn’t sound healthy, now did it? Tim was pretty sure that was just repression but, honestly, he had no clue. His family famously did not use therapists.

Before he could figure out how to address that there was a knock on the door.

Marinette grinned and opened it to reveal Duke, who was holding a computer.

Duke looked around the apartment, raising his eyebrows at all the people there. “Uh… should I ask?”

“I’m spiting Bruce.”

“Wild. Whatever. Ready for GBBS?”

“Sure. Tim, you gonna watch it with us?”

He hesitated. Steph had been sending him pleading looks since she had gotten her worksheet and he felt kind of bad for her… but then Duke and Marinette sat on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder lazily to get a better view of the computer and Tim figured that Steph was smart enough to do the worksheet on her own if she really tried.

He took a seat beside her and smiled a little when she switched to lean against him instead.

“So, who’s your favorite person for the season?” He asked.

She thought for a minute before shrugging. “The guy that always wins but keeps being anxious about his bakes. Forgot his name, though.”

“Rahul?!” said Duke.

“Sure.”

Duke frowned. “I’m not sure whether to be happy you like at least one contestant, be proud it’s Rahul, or be annoyed you didn’t remember his name.”

“Character development takes time,” said Tim wisely.

Marinette scoffed a little. “Just put on the damn show. I’m tired of listening to you assholes talk.”

Duke grinned. “Fine. Fine.”

Time passed as the three of them watched the show.

Other family members slowly made their way over one by one. Damian brought the cat with him. Jason came over to give his brain a break after all the reading he had done (and then, when Marinette pointed out that you never take breaks while reading good books, had gone straight back to Harry Potter). Steph decided she didn’t want to pass her class and came to lay across the top of the couch. Dick eventually got tired and rested his body after the intense game that is Beat Saber.

… B released her at almost exactly three thirty. They ignored their comms in favor of continuing to watch the season finale.

~

Marinette bit her lip anxiously as she preemptively turned off the notifications on her phone. Tim did the same.

They typed up matching tweets about how they were moving in with their partners, tagged each other...

Their fingers hovered over the tweet buttons.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure one of my siblings will do something stupid in a few days and the media will leave us alone,” said Tim.

She smiled awkwardly. “That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

He frowned just a little and slipped his arm around her. “Well, can I help with whatever it is?”

She hesitated. It would be better to warn him, she supposed. “Not really. You’re going to get the ‘shovel talk’ --.”

“My dad is Batman, Bean, I’ll live.”

“-- by the person who currently controls the embodiment of chaos and destruction.”

His face paled a little (which is dangerous, considering he was already pale enough). “Does Chat Noir not know we’re dating yet?”

“Nope.”

“... so he’s going to find out through the media?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

She nodded her agreement, curling into his side and glaring at the phone.

Adrien was going to be pissed. Especially since he was going to learn through the media. Sure, that was the intention, she was hoping that Tim would be left more or less alone because her friend would be too busy being hurt about not being told to focus on his anger at her boyfriend… but, yikes, she didn’t really want to deal with that just yet.

Also, she thought with a wince, Adrien was going to be even angrier when he figured out that she hadn’t exactly given up, as he called it, ‘stalking’ the people she was interested in. Marinette was pretty sure that Tim already knew about some of it but she wasn’t completely sure and, just in case, she wanted to keep it a secret for a while… a few years, at least, and she wanted to be the one to tell him because she was sure that Adrien would be a lot harsher about it than she would. He already called it ‘stalking’ when it was clearly different, she didn’t want to know what he would say if she let him talk about it in more depth.

Unfortunately, though, Adrien wasn’t stupid. He’d eventually catch on. The longer they dated without him knowing the guiltier he would assume she was.

She sighed and took his face in her hands. “I’m leaving it up to you. I’m not sure. I’m leaning towards being public but...”

He bit his lip as he considered it. She fought the urge to stretch his face until he let go.

He smiled hesitantly. “Well, I’ve lived long enough, I think.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll summon a lucky charm for you,” she half-joked.

He gave a puff of laughter that wasn’t quite real and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Bean, but I doubt that’ll be necessary. This is Gotham, no one dies here.”

“We don’t know how long that’ll take, though,” she said with a pout. “I’d prefer to have you back as soon as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll always have my siblings.”

“But I want you,” she huffed. “You’re my favorite.”

She felt his cheeks warm beneath her hands.

“I’m your second favorite,” he reminded her. “Cass.”

She snickered. “True. You’re my favorite until Cass accepts my proposal.”

“Hm. I’ll have to enforce the bro code to make sure that never happens.”

“Oh no! I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever, then. What a shame!”

He smiled brightly. Sometimes she lamented the fact that he didn’t give a lot of genuine smiles. The grins and smirks were nice, of course, but she liked to watch the way he would duck his head slightly to try and cover his face with his bangs. Still, in the privacy of her own head, she had to admit that the fact she could get such a smile out of him when few others could made her heart rate spike. He smiled for her. Who wouldn’t be flattered by that?

She pulled the smile that she loved so much down for a kiss.

~

The first time they stepped out the door as an official couple they were hounded by reporters.

Tim wanted to ask how they knew where they lived. He settled for asking them to blur the area around them.

It was more than a little annoying to be harassed on your way to the grocery store. They had just wanted eggs, milk (Marinette kept leaving it out for some strange reason), some cat food, and enough miscellaneous snacks to keep Cass occupied. They did not want cameras shoved in their faces.

But years of being public figures had trained them to keep pleasant smiles on their faces and to answer questions with as little information as possible.

Finally, though, they made it inside and a manager kicked out the reporters.

Marinette let her shoulders slump a little beneath his arm and Tim flexed the muscles in his face before it could get stuck in that awkward half-smile forever.

He squeezed her a little. “You alright?”

She shrugged as much as she could without displacing his arm. “Yeah. Just… hate reporters.”

He nodded his understanding. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Want to buy some Oreos while we’re here?”

Her face lit up. “Can we?”

“I’m rich. Of course we can.”

And, so, they did. He made a mental note to start buying oreos in bulk. All the flavors, just in case she ever got sick of the normal version.

They glanced out the door and, though they couldn’t see the paparazzi waiting just outside, they were sure that they would be back soon. They ducked through back alleys to try and get away.

Only to stop in the middle of a dark alley at the high-pitched cry of: “Give me your money or else!”

Tim sighed and set down the cat food to hand over everything in his pockets. A glance back at Marinette confirmed she was doing the same --.

And then he stopped short. He turned more fully to look at their mugger and then started to laugh.

“I’ll… I’ll kill you!” Said the mugger, who was just a kid. They might not have even hit puberty yet.

“With a pocketknife?” Tim said.

Marinette turned around as well at that and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my gods, that’s so lame.”

“It’s Gotham, you gotta do better than that,” said Tim. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a butterfly knife. He handed it over. “Here, have this, at least. Christ, that’s terrible.”

The kid didn’t seem to know what to do about the fact that his would-be victims were laughing at her and apparently helping her mug people.

Marinette handed over everything except for the necklace Tim had given her. “Here, kid. And get a mask or something to hide your face, it’s not nearly dark enough in here for you to just go with a hood.”

“Oh, and here’s my address,” added Tim. He typed it into his phone -- damn, he should have brought more than a pager -- and then handed it over. “We always have a lot of extra food, so if you ever need it just knock on the window.”

“... thanks?” said their now adoptive kid (they didn’t make the rules, this kid was theirs now).

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Can we go now? One of his siblings is coming over soon and he will start our show without us.”

“Uh… sure?”

~

Marinette sat on the kitchen island, squinting at the cast on her arm. Was it worth taking off for the sake of doing work? Maybe --.

Tim’s voice crackled through her ear and she perked up a little at the sound, smiling. He was talking, greeting guests it seemed. Right. He had a meeting today, Janet had mentioned it earlier that morning.

Marinette sighed a little at the reminder that, while she might not care about her broken arm, her boyfriend did. Yeah. Tim would probably be stressed if she took off her cast before the doctor said it was okay. She settled to lay back on the counter, head resting on her good arm, and stare at the ceiling as she listened to his voice...

Only to dart up when she felt a tap on her arm.

She looked over, eyes blown wide, and only relaxed slightly when she realized she recognized the person.

Adrien stood over her, arms crossed over his chest despite the glasses/miraculous he had hooked to the collar of his shirt, but he apparently wasn’t angry enough to not accept the usual kisses on both cheeks that Parisians did as greeting.

He said something that she couldn’t really understand with the part of her brain still concentrated on Tim explaining some sort of chart.

She sighed and reached a hand to her ear to turn off the bug. “Hey, can you repeat that?”

He didn’t. Instead he squinted at her ear suspiciously. “Does your ear hurt?”

“... no?” She said slowly, a little confused.

“Whatcha listening to?”

She paled. Shit. He was going to be pissed (or, at least, more pissed than he already was) if he found out that her supposed ‘stalking’ was getting worse. She needed an excuse.

“Uh, that one rapper, uh --.”

“BS. You don’t listen to rappers.”

He held a hand out and, reluctantly, she handed it over to him. She might as well get her murder over with.

He set it in his ear and, after a few attempts, turned it on. His face soured even more, somehow.

“This better not be who I think it is.”

She gave a tentative half-smile.

That was all the answer he needed. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and started dragging her through the streets.

No one helped. Not that she expected them to, it was Gotham, but it was still a little hurtful.

Adrien stopped suddenly after a few minutes of walking.

“... wait… where’s his office?”

[luvteez]

bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong​ for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will 

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“ 

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder. 

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”