#and years later; long after communication has ceased; you’re left with nothing but your own shower thoughts to explain it.

[raddest-laddest]

imagine being an artist, writing a song with intention and purpose, pouring your heart and soul into it, and singing it out for the whole world to hear

just for some kid on the internet to find it and make it about their Tragedy Blorbos

…anyways, listen to this

[wendimydarling]

The Thirst is Real

Summary: Little Freya might not be who she says she is...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Little Freya 

Word Count: 1965

Warnings: uhhh.... slow burn; dirty thoughts; erotic thoughts; mentions of arousal, daddy kink, spanking, oral, masturbation, and thigh riding; size kink; slight manhandling; dom/sub kink if you squint.

A/N: So it’s been buzzing around The Cavillry that @littlefreya​ is either a mole in the community or Henry himself... @agniavateira​ (my beautiful goddess of a beta who also beta’d this fic for me) and I had a sensational conversation about what Freya and Henry’s weekly meet-ups would entail, and this beautiful birthday present was born! It’s also a little different that what I’ve done before, as I might have used some real life thirst examples in the fic. 

Did I call you out? I guess you’ll just have to read. 😈

You’ll get another gift on your actual birthday my love, but for now, please enjoy!!

~~~~~

Freya adjusted her curls in the mirror, adding one last dash of eyeliner. She was preparing for her weekly meeting with Henry, but this time her stomach was twisting itself in a spiral like a shirt ready to be dyed. 

When Henry first suggested the idea of her going on Tumblr to spy for him, she was hesitant at first. What if she couldn’t make friends? What if they didn’t trust her? But now, with a solid 6k followers under her belt, she knew she could say just about anything and people would flock to the thirst.

With a nervous look at her reflection, Freya gathered her things and headed out the door, sending a quick couple of texts to Henry.

I’m on my way. You should post on your IG stories… they’re wondering what you’re up to this morning. 

Perfect, thanks. I’ll send you what I’m about to upload.

A couple of seconds later Freya received his text, quickly setting up a post and waiting for Henry to update his Instagram. She smiled to herself; Tumblr would be buzzing in a matter of seconds once she posted, and what better way to show Henry what went on in the torrential world of social media than to show him live? Freya’s phone chimed again, indicating Henry had done as she’d suggested. 

She couldn’t help but grin like a demon as she hit the small blue button.

Pocketing her phone, Freya enjoyed the scenery on the short walk to Henry’s place. He was in London briefly as was she, so they were meeting at his home instead of Skyping like usual. Why she was so nervous, she didn’t know… Henry had been a friend for quite a few years now, even becoming one of her closest companions. He confided in her and she in him, and it was always a joy to see him. Every day she looked forward to their flirty banter. But that was easier when it was over the phone; doing so in person was an entirely different matter.

Freya reached Henry’s small home and knocked on the door. She’d only been there a couple of times, but the tiny house never ceased to give her a wonderful sense of charm and sensibility. A loud bark and clack of nails on the floor signaled that Kal was ready and waiting to greet her, which meant Henry wouldn’t be far behind. Freya fidgeted with her fingers and chewed on her lip in taut anticipation.

The door swung wide and there was Henry, sporting a puppy dog grin on his face and his large frame filling the entire entryway. His muscular chest was practically bursting from the snug grey shirt he wore, and his dark blue jeans couldn’t have looked more sinful. He had Kal by the collar as if the dog weighed nothing, and Freya couldn’t help but feel incredibly small. Henry reached out his hand, softly tugged her bottom lip from her teeth, then swooped her up for a one-armed squeeze.

“It’s so good to see you,” he murmured against her ear, sending chills down Freya’s spine. Her feet dangled helplessly as she wrapped her own arms around his neck, inhaling the sharp scent that had long since faded from the hoodie he’d let her “steal”. The fact that he was holding her petite stature in one arm and still controlling Kal with the other wasn’t lost to Freya, and the images it provoked in her mind of what exactly he could do to her with that kind of strength made her tingle. 

Oh, the positions he could put her in...

All too soon Henry set Freya down, shaking her from her sudden daydream. 

“Come on in,” he said, maneuvering Kal and ordering him to sit. Freya crossed the threshold, imagining what it would be like if she was in a long, white gown…

“I’m making a smoothie, would you like one?” Henry broke into her thoughts again and Freya flushed, hurriedly setting her bag on the table and pulling out her laptop. 

“Just some water please,” she replied, swallowing thickly as she realized how dry her throat was. She logged into Tumblr as Henry bustled about in the kitchen and quickly reblogged a few thirsty comments, scrolling through to find some good ones while she waited for Henry.

“Go ahead and start, tell me what ‘The Cavillry’ has been up to this week,” he stated, not quite a command but it thrilled Freya nonetheless. Stupid filthy gutter brain. She pulled out her notes and dove straight in.

“Well, a few of them like Lisa and Berry have a theory that there’s a mole in the community,” she laughed. “Some of them even like to surmise that I’m you!”

“Do they really?” Henry’s deep chuckle resonated throughout the living space and Freya closed her eyes momentarily, picturing that chuckle after a rather exhilarating round of cardio between soft, silken sheets…

“What else are they saying?” Henry’s voice was in Freya’s ear and she jumped, startled yet again from her indecorous thoughts. Henry set her water down next to the laptop and placed his hands on the table, caging her in his warmth as he leaned over her shoulder to read. Freya felt the familiar flush of arousal start to creep its way up her thighs but she did her best to ignore it, continuing on with her notes. 

“Marta made some really funny memes,” she stammered, “And Demi excels at clipping audios, where it sounds like…”

“How does it sound?” Henry’s hot breath ghosted over her ear, and his exhale came out nearly a growl. Freya felt lucky she was sitting down, positive her knees would have given out on her if she hadn’t been. 

“Like you just had a--an orgasm,” she faltered, grabbing her glass of water for a big gulp. Henry hummed, and Freya nearly choked on the clear liquid. 

“What else do they say? I want you to read it… out loud.”

Freya was shocked for a moment. What was he playing at? Wait a minute... this is a game; Henry is playing a game. Emboldened by her sudden epiphany, Freya switched personalities from timid bird to devilish vixen, determined to win whatever it was that Henry had set in motion. She arched her back and leaned her head against Henry’s shoulder, pointing at the screen.

“Well look, see what your post this morning has done? We descend into a thirsting frenzy every time.” 

She scrolled through a couple of posts, landing upon one that would give her what she needed.  

“For example, Miya writes: 

‘I guess good to know he’s on a morning run instead of fapping off… 

But good sir, you will have to shower after that no? And unless he’s a never nude, he’s going to be naked very very soon ladies. KEEP THAT IN MIND! IN A SHORT FEW MINUTES, HENRY WILL BE NAKED AND RUBBING HIMSELF IN THE SHOWER.’ ”

 Freya emphasized the last sentence and was rewarded with a small hitching of Henry’s breath. He recovered quickly.

“However did they know,” he quipped in a low rumble, reaching over Freya’s hand to do some scrolling of his own. Her hand was trapped in his but her thoughts were elsewhere, immediately flooded with the image of Henry getting off in the shower, water cascading over his hairy torso down the line of his abs and through the rabbit trail on his groin to the surely insurmountable…

“This one next,” he stated, drawing her back to the present. His thumb brushed softly over her skin before landing just out of reach of her touch. Freya focused her attention on the screen and a small groan escaped her lips. He’d chosen one of Wendi’s Smutbombs.

“...My eyes were instantly drawn back to his fierce gaze.

“You wanted to use that mouth,” he snarled, staring at me with lewd concentration.

“So use it.”

Freya’s palms grew clammy at the thought of using her mouth around Henry, in exactly the way the raucous words depicted. The way he would stretch her tiny lips until they burned, the way he’d fuck her throat without a care, the way he’d…

Henry grabbed Freya’s hand and abruptly slapped his phone on her palm, severing the thought. 

“Read this one,” Henry commanded her again, his voice now clear and authoritative. This time his tone left no room for argument; he was doing it on purpose. His arms still pinned her to the table with no way to escape, and she could feel the dominance that was dripping off of him tingling down her spine. 

Freya looked at the small screen, recognition of the words dawning on her face. She faltered, and cleared her throat.

“Yes, my bottom is always bare, Sherlock. Bare and ready for you to spank me and take me any which way you want.”

“Who wrote that?” he questioned sternly. Freya took a deep breath.

“I did.”

“Read the next one.”

Freya whimpered, clenching her thighs together tightly. 

“Fuck this shit I want to die on this man’s thighs.”

“Who wrote that?”

“I did.”

“Keep going.”

Freya’s chest was heaving. Her head was swimming with lust and need. Her arousal had long since wet her panties to the point of extreme discomfort. She was certain Henry could smell it too, as she certainly could and his head was still right next to hers. She watched his fists tighten on the table, the veins in his arms becoming more prominent with every passing second. Freya imagined what his hands would look like with one wrapped around her throat and the other buried knuckle deep inside her…

“I said keep going; you’ve got one more.”

It wasn’t just Henry’s voice this time that dragged Freya back to reality; he wrapped his hand firmly around her nape and pointed her toward his phone. 

She blinked rapidly and scrolled to the last quote. 

“...They share a mutual smile and she forces herself to look away.

They have always liked each other, he has always been kind to her.

Sometimes he would touch her as they sat with friends, a feverish stroke, innocent or by mistake, but that would be enough to make her heart flutter like a huge butterfly in the cage of her chest. 

To see him physically hurts sometimes. Especially on a night like this when she is supposed to be happy, yet her heart feels sorrowful.”

The moment her lips finished moving Freya was pulled off the bench and thrust against the wall. Henry pressed his thigh between her legs, his own arousal evident as it strained against the ridged fabric of his jeans. His face was gentle and sincere but his eyes were as dark with lust as she was certain hers were, and the tremor of his voice left no room to imagine anything but desire.

“Who wrote that?” he whispered softly.

“I did,” Freya whispered back.

“Did you mean it?” Henry searched her face, looking for any scrap of evidence that would present him with permission. Freya brought a hand up to his curls, brushing the one out of his eyes that always seemed to disobey.

“Every word.”

Henry slammed his mouth against Freya’s, probing her deep and hard. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, tugging on his curls and wrapping her legs around his waist as he hoisted her in the air. Never in her life had she ever thought this moment would happen, that he would want her this way. But now, here in his arms with his lips on hers and on their way to his bedroom, she couldn’t picture anything else. 

The man had ruined her for anyone else over a decade ago, and she’d been thirsty for far, far too long.

~~~~~

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @killjoy-assbutt-1112​ @achaoticaugust​ @demivampirew​ @raspberrydreamclouds​ I hope you don’t mind that I used your thirst! I though it might be fun, but if you don’t like it just let me know, I’ll remove it. 😊

[consumeconstantly]

Speak My Name In Tongues

1| 2(you are here) | 3 | 4  

Summary: Bruce Wayne is determined to get his daughter to safety and aid (read: take over for) the Parisian heroes in capturing their supervillains of over six years. Unfortunately, these two goals are in direct conflict. (all of biodad bruce things can be read as stand alones but I do post in chronological order)

________________________________________________

Let it be said that Bruce Wayne is a persistent man. 

When he wants something, he does not stop on the first or second failed attempt. It doesn’t matter if the world believes something to be impossible. It doesn’t matter if he fails spectacularly to achieve his goal multiple times, in fashions that would likely result in any man of lesser wealth becoming the laughing stock of the global community for months. In order for him to cease his pursuit, he must come to the realization that whatever he’s pursuing is not worth the effort. This is a very rare occasion. Most times when Bruce comes to this conclusion, his decision can be traced back to the trauma of his parents death and the subsequent consequences of his vigilante life style (read: not pursuing Jason’s death, letting Barbara get shot.)

Thus, when Marinette turns down his offer of a safer life, he will not take her rejection at face value. A lesser man might. But Bruce is not any such thing.

Anything that Marinette is involved in-- and he finds that she does a lot-- all oh-so-coincidentally happen to be things that Wayne Enterprises invests in as well. He marks down each and every charity event and gala that she is scheduled to attend and makes an appearance there as well. When he finds that she supports all of her collége friends in their pursuits, he attends too.

Somehow, she manages to skillfully evade being drawn into any long conversation with him and always ensures that there’s a third person involved when he even says hello. If Bruce weren’t trying so hard to have a talk with her, he’d say that her ability to do so was really quite impressive and spoke to the reach of her network. But again, Bruce is trying to convince his daughter that he’s not safe in Paris by herself when the League most likely has a bounty on her head. If Talia finds out that he had a daughter not borne by her-- she’s certainly changed in recent years, becoming more volatile and much less like the woman he fell in love with all those years ago.

He half believes that with Marinette’s wit, intellect, and escape abilities, she may even be able to hold her own against the League. Unfortunate that the League has weapons training and she does not.

“Marinette,” Bruce approaches her at a Bourgeois evening party. She has friends in high places, that’s for certain. Chloe Bourgeois works at her company in the public relations department as does Adrien Agreste, which definitely turned a lot of heads in the fashion industry as nobody expected the boy to work for anybody but his father, nor did they expect him to stop his modelling career in the prime of his life. For modelling works, she turns to Juleka Couffaine and occasionally Olympic hopefuls Kagami Tsurugi, Alix Kubdel, Ondine and Kim Le Chien.  Thanks to her connections to Rose Lavillant, she’s produced an entire line of scents that go with MDC’s evening wear. MDC is extensively covered by Aurore Boreale, one of the youngest talk show hosts in the industry, Alya Cesaire, a young journalist who’s won international acclaim with her writing, and Nadja Chamack, a Senior Executive producer of TVi. Though Bruce is rather impartial to the music industry, she’s well known for working with international singers Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and Luka Couffaine as well as an up and coming EDM artist named Nino Lahiffe. In the film sector, she works closely with Tom Astruc and Graham Industries, with Adrien’s cousin, Felix. 

As the saying goes, Who you know is everything.

Marinette smiles, teeth bared. Even the way she stands is sharp. 

It’s difficult reconciling the girl in front of him with the pictures he saw while doing background checks on her, or even the girl he saw at the bar just three nights ago. At least, it’s difficult for Bruce to reconcile her when she’s around him; Marinette seems to be very much the same girl around her friends, which is almost just as frightening. When she’s with Adrien or Alya of Kagami, it’s as if her parent’s death didn’t even happen. All smiles and sunshine and good will. She still attends all of the charity events she signed up for, has increased the amount of hours she spends volunteering at homeless shelters and akuma shelters-- and Bruce has no clue in hell how Paris’ supervillain situation has gone unchecked for so long, but he already has several agents tracking down Hawkmoth and the Miraculous team to no avail-- and goes to work on a normal schedule. Since Tom and Sabine’s death, she’s taken no time off. 

In the presence of Bruce Wayne, however, there’s a great shift in her demeanor. There is nothing warm about her, and despite the fact that Marinette is his daughter and that she’s more than a full foot shorter than him, he finds himself wary of her. That says something, considering the types of people he faces down as Batman near daily.

For the first time, she allows him to approach without dodging him. 

“M. Wayne.” Marinette begins to meander to a less public place, all while maintaining a pretty media smile and waving to acquaintances as she passes them. The moment the door closes behind him, a flip is switched. 

“Leave me alone,” she growls. “I don’t want or need your protection.”

“Your parents were murdered.”

“You don’t think I know that? I was the one who found their corpses.”

“They’ll come after you, next.” The League of Assassins never leaves their jobs half done. Marinette is more of an achilles heel than Tom and Sabine were-- despite not being in her life, he cares for her. He can’t deny that if she were murdered, he’d probably get caught up in a fit of rage. The Lazarus Pits have not been good for his mental state over the years.

Marinette crosses her arms, sleeves fluttering around her. “You think you know who did it.”

“I don’t think I know; I’m sure who did it.”

“No,” Marinette says in a strangely detached tone. “You think you know who did it. You don’t actually know, do you, Dark Knight?”

Bruce’s stomach fills with dread. Something about her statement makes him feel nauseous. Queasy, even. “I do. The League of Assassins--”

“You think everything revolves around you, don’t you? Bruce Wayne and Batman are not the only ones with enemies.”

“You’re suggesting that you have enemies who would be willing to kill your parents?” Bruce isn’t sure how to take this. Marinette does have a fairly large following, runs in the most powerful and influential Parisian circles, and has money to spare. But as far as his research told him, she didn’t do anything to egregiously offend anybody, besides maybe one Lila Rossi and Chloe Bourgeois, though the latter of the two rectified their relationship eventually. 

“I don’t,” Marinette denies. “But Ladybug does.”

“The superhero.” Is his age finally catching up to him?

“The superhero,” Marinette agrees, looking at Bruce contemplatively. 

“Ladybug and I-- we’re close,” Marinette settles on. “Close enough for our bakery to become a safe house of sorts for the Miraculous team. Hawkmoth--no, Pavona. She either acted out of anger for her past with me or just wanted to strike a blow at the Miraculous team.”

Bruce feels a migraine coming on. It’s on days like this when he wishes he were a drinking sort of man. “Why would Pavona be upset with you?”

Marinette laughs, humorlessly. “World’s greatest detective, huh? Maybe you’ll figure it out eventually.”

He gets the feeling that their conversation is quickly coming to a close, and figures that whatever issue Marinette and Pavona have is something he can decipher later, “It doesn’t seem like Pavona has done much with this information. The Miraculous Team seems to be in high spirits, and there haven’t been any akumatizations in the past two weeks.”

Another dry laugh. “Wrong move at the wrong time. And besides Ladybug and you, nobody else knows.”

Marinette pushes past him, back to the door, back to the party. She pauses at the door. “I’ll put the two of you in contact. Until then, keep a lid on you and your operative’s emotions. I’m sure trained agents like yourselves can restrain yourself from feeling anger or sorrow for a while.”

Bruce is left with two horrifying realizations: Marinette is in a situation where she’s in over her head, and Sabine and Tom’s deaths have not been publicized.

#

Batman and Bruce have never liked magic or metas, and Ladybug seems to be both. It doesn’t help that she’s so high strung and seems to be inexplicably angry at him from the moment that he steps foot at their prearranged meetup.

“I sent you the ground rules if you want to operate in Paris. Forward it to your operatives. Follow the rules or leave.”

“I’m here to take down Hawkmoth,” Batman says with a bone-weary tiredness. 

Ladybug crosses her arms in a fashion that’s achingly familiar. “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you and your people the ground rules and a chance. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be allowed here.”

“Ladybug, you and your team have failed to catch Hawkmoth for six years now.”

“You and your team have been fighting the same set of villains for over thirty years. I wonder which one of us is really worse off.”

Batman grimaces. 

The heroine looks out at the night sky and sighs. “Look, this is a very stressful situation. Pavona acted out in one of the worst ways possible, and even though she and Hawkmoth seem to be MIA, it’s still not ideal.”

He remembers that Marinette said Ladybug and her parents were close. Batman stumbles over his words. He’s never been the best at comforting people, and healthy coping mechanisms simply don’t run in the family. There’s definitely a reason why he and all of his children take to vigilantism so well. “Tom and Sabine-- they were great people.”

Ladybug stills. 

Batman doesn’t know how old she is, or how old any of the Miraculous team is, besides from Chloe Bourgeois, who used to be Queen Bee. Something in the way her shoulders hunch, how her jaw trembles, and eyes water makes Batman feel like she’s just a child. But she can’t be. Not if she’s been protecting a city for six years. If he had to guess her age, he’d put her in her mid to late twenties, maybe even early thirties. 

“They were the most loving people I’ve ever known,” Ladybug says. “It was a privilege to know them.”

He’s not sure who made the decision to not release Tom and Sabine’s death to the public, but Batman recognizes it as a tactical decision. It only took a short amount of time to hack into security cameras near Marinette’s residence and filter through the sighting of the Miraculous Team at Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie, stopping to chat with Marinette or one of her parents, sometimes eating there, sometimes staying the night, using their living room as a gathering point. From there, it’s not difficult to realize that Marinette or Ladybug is keeping this information from the rest of their team in order to ensure that their civilian or superhero identities don’t get compromised by an akuma or a sentimonster.

In comparison to the Scarecrow, who makes his victims fight their worst fears, Batman can’t help but think that turning people into their insecurities and angers is worse. At least with Scarecrow, there’s a chance that people can win against whatever they’re fighting. Once a Parisian is turned into an akuma or sentimonster, they just have to hope that somebody else will come in and save the day. Victimhood with the cruelest twist, similar to when the Joker tried to make Dick into the Joker Jr.

“Pavona. What’s her deal with Marinette?” 

Ladybug’s laugh is hollow and familiar. “Didn’t Marinette tell you to figure it out on your own?”

“I need to know,” Batman insists. “I want to protect her. I don’t want her to get hurt like that again.”

“You have noble intentions, Batman,” Ladybug says quietly. “A kind heart. But you are mistaken in thinking that Pavona can hurt Marinette anymore. Even if Pavona tries to, she won’t be able to. Tom and Sabine-- they were the weak link. Everyone else she loves is safe.”

Ladybug pauses, looks sideways at Batman, then stares out at the Parisian skyline again. “Everyone except for you. You’re not safe, here in Paris. You know that, don’t you?”

“She--” his mouth dries. There’s a lot of information to process, but he focuses on one thing. “She loves me?”

He doesn’t think he’s heard those words come out of any of his kid’s mouths. He knows that all of them do love each other in their own messed up ways and knows that his sons and daughters are more likely to show their affection in actions instead of words, but Marinette is a biological child that he’s never interacted with before this month. How can she love him when all he’s done is push her away?

“She loves you.” Ladybug closes her eyes. “But that makes her a fool. She’s clung to the hope that she’d get to know you for years. Look where that’s gotten her. She gets to meet you at the price of her parents' lives. So please, don’t mess this up. The best way to protect her is by making sure that you’re safe. Really, I’d want you to leave Paris and forget about her. She’ll be okay. We’ll keep her safe.”

Batman says nothing for a time. Ladybug is right in thinking that Marinette shouldn’t love him, but she’s not right in her belief that she can protect her. After all, Tom and Sabine are still dead. “But I can make sure no one hurts her. I may not be someone she interacts with normally, but I can’t see her die.”

Ladybug makes a keening sound in the back of her throat. “I know, Batman. We’re not as trained as you and your team. I know you want to keep her safe. That’s why I’m letting you and your team help us. Because we’re just not enough.”

“You’ve done a lot to keep this city safe.” He wants to be mad at her for involving a civilian family, but he can’t find it in him. She seems so young. Does she have parents? Do her parents know that she’s Ladybug?

“But not enough.” She wanders to the edge of the building, yoyo in hand. “When this is all over-- maybe the two of you can spend some time getting to know each other.”

Batman stares at the spotted heroine. “Maybe someday.”

“That’s not very convincing.” Ladybug turns so that he can’t see her face. “Be kind to her. She’s alone.”

“She has you. She has your team.” Neither Bruce nor Batman has been very good at comfort during a time of loss. 

Ladybug fiddles with the chain around her neck. Two rings as a pendant. She clenches her fist around them and goes still for a moment. “We’re too similar to comfort each other. And we both agreed that telling the team… it would be disastrous. Tom and Sabine were parents to all of us. Pavona is scheduled to come back soon. If we tell them now, it might end in another mass akumatization. That’s something we have to avoid.”

Pavona is coming back? How did Ladybug even know that she left? How— 

Batman stills. The muggy Parisian warmth is only alleviated by a brief breeze that makes Ladybug’s hair ties fly in the wind. Anger wells up in the back of his throat, and he feels the Lazarus in him spike, knows that behind the white film of his cowl, his eyes are turning green. “You know who Pavona is. Why hasn’t she been brought in yet? Why—”

Ladybug could have prevented Tom and Sabine’s death. She could have saved Marinette the loss of her parents. 

Marinette could have retained her innocence. Been kept out of the world of superheroes and supervillains, been kept safely on the sidelines if only Ladybug weren’t so selfish, wasn’t so foolish to bring in a civilian family with no training and no background.

“Marinette and I have known for a long time,” Ladybug cuts him off, and he’s ready to put his hands to her throat, but no. Justice, not vengeance. He will make sure that Ladybug’s wrongdoings are brought to light. He will right her wrongs.  “For four years, it was Hawkmoth and Mayura. Once Pavona showed up, we thought-- we thought that between her and Hawkmoth that she’d be the lesser of the two evils. We had no clue who Hawkmoth was, but we knew that they were working together. Pavona was left free to roam in hope that she’d lead us to Hawkmoth. That we could finally end the fight.”

 Ladybug’s back straightens. She turns, and her eyes are all blue steel and pain. It’s then that Batman realizes that Ladybug truly did love Tom and Sabine with her whole heart.

“I see that I was wrong. Hawkmoth kills indiscriminately. But Pavona-- her grudges run deep. Mayura was the kindest of the three. The reason Pavona killed Tom and Sabine was petty.” Ladybug’s voice crumples, as do her legs. She hunches in on herself, hugging her knees. Batman watches on from a distance. 

What was it she said? That she and Marinette were too similar to comfort each other? One day, Batman may find himself furious at Ladybug for making the decisions she did. But right now, all he sees is a child. 

“I’m sure you’ve looked into Marinette’s past,” Ladybug starts. 

Batman makes a noise of affirmation, but she clearly wasn’t looking for permission to go on. She was trying to collect herself in order to tell a story.

“There was a transfer all the way back in collège. She was very popular amongst her classmates. Beautiful, well connected, charismatic. There was no way people wouldn’t love her.” 

Ladybug glances back at him. “Come, sit, Monsieur. I do not know you well, but I don’t bite.”

Bruce— Bruce does not want to sit with her. But Batman says that he has to hear her out. To give her a chance, at least. Batman has made mistakes over the course of his career as well, his actions and inactions affecting too many for him to keep track of. He would be a hypocrite if he didn’t let Ladybug speak, even if Sabine and Marinette are two people he never would have dreamed of involving. Still, he keeps one hand firmly on a batarang. The videos shows that not much damage can be done to the superheroes when they’re suited up, save for attacks with magic, but nothing is absolute. There’s always a way to bring an opponent down. “Is it that shocking of a story?”

“No. Not at all. If anything, it’s a typical story of teenage drama, except perhaps a bit more than that. But I need the reassurance that you won’t run off once I finish.” She lets the two rings go, gentle thud of the two rings pressing against each other and her collar bone. The rings seem familiar. 

Batman sits, albeit warily and at least five feet away from his companion. Ladybug hasn’t proven untrustworthy so far, but she is still part meta and a magic user, from what he’s gathered. He wouldn’t put it past her or one of her team, particularly the one who creates illusions, to do something. He just doesn’t know what.

“This beautiful, charming classmate easily swayed Marinette’s class to her side.” Ladybug peeks at Batman through her bangs. “Understand that the classmates are children. Children in a class where power means that trouble and responsibility never stick. They learned that taking action meant you would be blamed.”

Batman wonders how Marinette and Ladybug met. Maybe it was through this very class she’s talking about now. If that’s true, it does not bode well for his perception of her.

“Marinette recognized this classmate for what she was. A liar. She promised all sorts of beautiful things-- things that played to their classmate’s biggest dreams. Working with their favorite artist. Meeting olympic athletes and musicians. Trips to impossible places. Perhaps if Marinette wans’t who she was, she would have believed her, too. But this classmate lied about two things Marinette knew were false. She lied about being a hero. She lied about me.”

“How do you and Marinette know each other?” It was incredibly difficult to find the video evidence of the Miraculous team going to Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Batman had to call in a favor from Zatara and avoiding her questions as to why— he’d much preferred it if he were able to go through any normal channel instead. 

“We’ve known each other since the beginning.” Ladybug fiddles with her yoyo, refusing to look him in the eyes. “Marinette tried to get her friends to realize the truth. But everybody wanted what she was saying to be real. It’s hard to say otherwise when everything they ever wanted could be found in a single person. And Marinette didn’t pick the smartest ways to try to reveal her lies. 

“That beautiful, charming classmate didn’t like Marinette trying to debunk her entire persona. She grew to be very cunning. She hurt Marinette in so many ways. I lost track over how many times Marinette got suspended or temporarily expelled, only for her to be brought back at the behest of the one other person in her class who knew the truth. Her designs were stolen. The boy she loved grew into a shell in order to protect himself. Her friends drifted away-- not that they were cruel or anything,  they were taught inaction above all else, to not say a word about whatever happened in class ever since ecole-- but Marinette was really lonely. 

“It was sort of a blessing in disguise. During this time, a lot of the Miraculous Team went on a break of sorts, and it was only Chat Noir and I. We had to get stronger and smarter and Marinette and her family provided relief and moral support. If her friends were close to her during that time, things may have ended really badly. Hawkmoth may have caught on to more secret identities than he already knew.”

“Does Marinette know who you and Chat Noir are underneath the mask?” To put the weight of their alter egos on a civilian is cruel. It’s why his own was so closely guarded. He’s not a fan of Marinette knowing his existence as Bruce, let alone Ladybug. 

“The more people who know our identities, the greater a chance Hawkmoth has at taking our Miraculous.”

A non answer. Clever wording on Ladybug’s part. Although he can imagine Sabine agreeing to put up a bunch of teenage superheroes in her bakery, he knows that it’s impossible for anything to escape from her eyes for very long. He’d bet anything that she figured out the majority of the team’s identities. And by extension, anything that Sabien finds out, Marinette is bound to find out as well; her past indicates that she has an equal, if not higher level of intelligence and creativity that Sabine had.

Had. They went for so long without patching anything up. Why was he so foolish? So Hard headed? She offered him so many chances to reconnect, to connect with Marinette, to be a second father to her. She didn’t have any romantic feelings for him left, that much he knew, what with how utterly in love she was with Tom, and he was happy for her. Happy that she found somebody more stable than him. 

If he and Sabine were closer, could he have prevented their deaths? Would he have been clued into the situation of a magic supervillain in Paris sooner? 

He can’t be mad at Ladybug. Not when Batman, a hero with decades of experience on her, failed to step in. Refused to look old problems in the eye. Let loved ones die for his own inability to communicate. 

“For a while, Marinette didn’t fight back. She didn’t want the boy she loved, her best friend, to get in any more trouble than he already was, trying to protect her. She laid low. But the classmate was very interested in this boy as well. The classmate tried to break him to get him to love her.”

Ladybug smiles wryly. “You can imagine that was the end of her rope. Marinette thought that the only person the liar was targeting was herself. After three years of bearing the weight, she finally snapped. She started using the resources she had. And the wasn’t any grandiose thing, though in retrospect, perhaps it should have been. She wouldn’t have ended up in prison, no she’s too young, and one of the two main victims was under lock and key, and Marinette was never hurt to the point where the liar would face real consequences for her actions. All that happened was a restraining order and her removal from Marinette’s school.”

“The girl’s name is Lila Rossi. She was already a suspect for working with Hawkmoth at the time by helping him turn people into akumas. Then Mayura stopped showing up and Pavona took her place. Pavona was clearly targeting everything and anything near Marinette. I should have seen the signs, but I had years of experience on her, and the Miraculous Cure--” Ladybug breaks off. “From one point of view, even Hawkmoth is better than her, because at least he didn’t cause any irreversible deaths.”

The Miraculous Cure is cruel. It only reverses the damage done with a Miraculous or while Ladybug is transformed. When Tom and Sabine were murdered, Pavona and the Peacock Miraculous were nowhere in sight.

Batman can’t say whether Pavona is better or worse than Hawkmoth. But Lila Rossi-- he recognizes the name. He knows what she looks like, since her image came up when he was doing a background check on Marinette. It’s quite possible that she has some type of mental disorder. Now is not the time to think about that. Hawkmoth’s identity needs to be revealed, and quickly. “How did you connect the two with the magic protecting your identities?”

“I used a little magic of my own.”

Beneath them, more and more lights begin to flicker out. Even though Paris is nicknamed the City of Lights, due to the extensive drain on energy, shops are required to turn off their exterior lighting after 1AM. 

“Please,” Ladybug says. “Please help me find Hawkmoth. Please help me put them in prison. I-- I’ve been fighting for so long, and it was a duty I didn’t even want for the longest time. I just want all of this to be over. I want to be able to scream and cry and mourn without Hawkmoth and Pavona trying to manipulate me. Please.”

Batman has never been one for physical affection, but he pats Ladybug awkwardly on her back. She launches herself into his arms, curling into him and sobs as he awkwardly rubs her back. He keeps his eyes trained at a distance, watching for any akumas or amoks.  

“Please,” she warbles, eyes watery. “Be good to Marinette. Be a good father. Be someone for her to lean on.”

His muscles tighten. He’s never claimed to be a good father, let alone a good man. He tries to do right, but Marinette is different from all of the other kids he’s taken in over the years. She’s not from Gotham. She had parents who were kind and stable and normal. He doesn’t think he can be a good father to her.

Somehow, Ladybug guesses exactly what he’s thinking. “You just have to be yourself. It may be stupid and foolish, but she loves you. She really does.”

For a long time, the two of them stay on that roof, Ladybug buried in the crook of Batman’s arm.

_____________________________________________________

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety 

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip

also if i missed you please just lmk in the appropriate place again! and is it a me thing or a tumblr thing that some of these tags just wont WORK AUGH. thank you all for the support on the fics i’ve posted so far! i’m quite bad at posting regularly because all sense of time has been stripped away

hahahaha consistent chapter length? what’s that? (jokes on you these aren’t chapters just loosely related chronologically told one shots. what even makes a cohesive story a story)

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Ten: When it Rains

a/n: hi besties!! This one is... tough I’m ngl to y’all. It is the second to the last chapter which is so wild to think about, but alas all good things must come to an end. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much by the end of it but feel free to vent in my inbox :))) much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor, ANGST (!!)

Word Count: 7.4 k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine

“Is that my shirt?”

“No,”

Alani squints at the cartoon bee printed on Harry’s white t-shirt and crosses her arms in disbelief. 

“Yes it is! I’ve been looking for it everywhere,”

“Don’t worry, you can have it back soon,” he admits, crawling back into his bed with an apologetic kiss to her pouting lips. “Doesn’t smell like you anymore,”

“Thief,”

Harry scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. “Don’t act like my Spice World jumper isn’t hanging at the foot of your bed right now,”

“You left it there,” Alani defends. “I was merely being kind and looking after said hoodie because it was abandoned by its owner,”

“Oh yeah and you’ve fought real hard to reunite us,”

“Can we get back to the main issue at hand? Which is that I’m kinda pissed off that you look better in that shirt than I do.”

Harry chuckles to himself and presses an affectionate kiss to her temple. “You’re too kind.”

Alani rests her cheek against his chest and listens to the rain pattering harshly against the window, admiring the flashes of lightning that illuminate the dimly lit room. Harry had convinced her to stay the night, worried about her driving home alone in the storm, and he was met with very little resistance. Secretly, he thanks the rain gods for allowing him another night to hold her close. 

********

“H, you gotta tell her,” Jeff had warned the previous night. “I already pushed the flight back a week—”

“I know,” Harry huffed. “I just need a little more time.”

Jeff sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “You have until this weekend when we go away with the girls. One week in Maui, and then it’s back home. I’m sorry.”

********

Harry’s stomach turns remembering the conversation, but he decides to push all the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the present. 

“You all packed?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. 

Alani drapes her leg over his hip and nods. “Been packed since last week.”

She had been ecstatic the day after Mila and Chad’s wedding when Harry invited her to tag along on the couple’s trip with Jeff, Tom, and their significant others. His eagerness to include her in his friend group was not only reassuring, but exciting. It felt like their lives were coming together, even more so after she had introduced him to her parents. They, of course, had adored him and quickly given their seal of approval. While Alani knew that it was ultimately her choice, it still felt good to have support from the most important people in her life, and she hoped to win his friends over just as easily. Harry, on the other hand, had no doubts that she would fit right into his chosen family. Her name had been cautiously dropped during a weekly FaceTime call with his mother and sister, and he was overjoyed when they enthusiastically grilled him for details. 

What Harry was less sure of, however, was how Alani would react upon hearing that his vacation was up and that he would be headed back to L.A. in a week’s time. It was still early in their relationship and an indeterminate break seemed less than ideal. He had tried to convince both Jeff and the label that he could finish the album in Hawaii, but the same couldn’t be said for Jeff Bhasker, Mitch, Tom, and his new bassist, Adam, who all had families waiting for them back on the mainland. It was too risky personally and financially, so Harry reluctantly negotiated one last week to persuade Alani that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be a death sentence. 

“What d’you wanna watch?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard to turn on the T.V. 

Alani sighs and settles deeper into his side. “When Harry Met Sally,”

“But it’s not Christmas or New Year’s,”

“So?”

“So,” Harry explains. “We have to wait ‘til the holidays, wouldn’t be right otherwise,”

Alani scoffs and peers up at him with a judgemental look. “So I guess Serendipity is also out of the question?”

“We’ll have all Christmas to get through that list, darlin’,”

Her stomach flips at his suggestion of their future holiday plans. Privately, she had wondered about such things, as well, including what gifts she might get him or where they would spend the holidays. Though still months away, it suddenly felt within reach. 

“Fine,” Alani softens. “The Notebook,”

“And let you drool over what’s-his-face?” Harry pokes. “No fuckin’ way,”

Alani pinches his side and sits up. “Would you stop being insecure about that? I’ve already told you I was just kidding that time,”

“Yeah well, it still stings,”

“Why don’t you tell me your celebrity crush? You know, so I can be totally fine about it because it doesn’t mean anything,”

Harry shrugs, the corners of his lips turning into a playful smirk. “Don’t have one,”

“Liar,”

“M’serious,”

“Why, because you’ve already dated them?”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “That was a bit snippy,”

Alani’s muscles tighten. She hadn’t realized that his dating history was a sore spot, but she takes a deep breath and plants a sweet kiss to his jaw as an offering of peace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,”

“S’alright. Truce?”

“Deal,”

“Jennifer Aniston,”

“Huh?”

“My celebrity crush,” Harry explains shyly. “When I was younger,”

Alani giggles lightly. “I see. Good taste, she’s hot,”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave me for her too,”

“I just might,”

“Can’t say that I blame you,”

“Look I know this is a cute little bit we do,” Alani sits up, her gaze dead-set on Harry’s to communicate the seriousness behind her words. “But I just want you to know that I feel so lucky to be with you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon,”

Harry swallows harshly. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear and it kills him that he can’t return the sentiment with full honesty. A little less than a week is all he has to prove that even though he physically has to go, his heart will remain wherever Alani is. “Me either,”

Another round of thunder booms outside and the lights fizzle out, leaving the room completely dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning that gently illuminate the room. 

“So much for watching a movie, huh?” Alani sighs. 

“I think I know some other ways we can keep ourselves entertained.”

********

Harry sets a steaming cup of tea down onto the table in front of Alani and she looks up from her tube of nail polish curiously. Harry flashes a dimpled grin in her direction and whistles a familiar tune, one that she had heard in the studio when he was busy doing his Bob Dylan impression. 

“What’re you singing?”

“Hm?”

“The song,” she clarifies. “You were singing it the other day, what is it?”

Harry serves her plate of hash browns and shrugs. “Dunno, just a little tune ‘ve been workin’ on,”

“It’s nice,”

“Thanks, sweets,” he offers, setting her food down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Hey Alani,” Jeff interrupts, stepping into the kitchen with his cellphone pressed to his shoulder.

“Glenne wants to know if you’re okay with her setting up a spa thing for you guys,”

"Yeah, definitely,” Alani perks up. 

“Cool, thanks.”

“Look at you,” Harry teases, taking a bite of his toast coated in strawberry jam. “Minglin’ with the girls,”

“They’re not even here yet,” 

He scans over her appearance and his brows furrow, hit with the sudden realization that she’s dressed in formal attire. 

“What’s with the fancy outfit”

“I have a meeting, remember?”

“With?”

Alani blows on her freshly painted nails and holds up her other hand for Harry to do the same. 

“My senior advisor. We’re going over my research project,”

Harry’s brows raise. “Smarty-pants,”

Alani had scheduled her meeting with Dr. Hudson months ago and had, truthfully, forgotten all about it until she had received a courtesy email the day prior. She had been working on her proposal in the spare minutes she had away from Harry, which were few and far between, but she knew the initial meeting would be much more casual. Alani checks the time on her phone and stands quickly when she realizes that she is supposed to meet Dr. Hudson in  less than thirty-minutes. 

“Gotta go,” she offers, shoveling potatoes into her mouth and grabbing her bag. 

Harry ceases blowing on her nails and kisses the back of her hand before sticking out his lips for a kiss of his own. “Good luck, darlin’. Meet me at the studio after?”

“Sure thing, sunshine. See you later.”

********

“How did the Joni Mitchell piece go? You never told me,” Dr. Hudson questions, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alani offers a shy smile and toys with the hem of her skirt. “A flop,”

“Just one more closer to the winner,”

“Yeah,” Alani sighs, stirring her smoothie. “Maybe it’s time to move on from that,”

The professor shoots her a disapproving look and sets her drink down. “Alani—”

“I just think maybe there’s more realistic—”

“You are not giving up,” Dr. Hudson reassures her. “You’ve come too far and you’re a terrific writer. One of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. These things take time,”

Alani nods gently, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Thank you, that really means a lot,”

“What are you working on right now?”

Absolutely nothing, Alani thinks, but then she remembers the half-written article about Harry sitting in her files. 

“A short piece about… a local musician,”

Dr. Hudson’s brows raise, intrigued, and she nods. “That sounds interesting. Definitely more personal,”

You have no idea. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not really anything—”

“I’d love to read it when you’re finished,” the professor continues. “What’s the scope?”

Alani thinks, trying not to give too much incriminating detail about her subject or their relationship. 

“Well,” she starts, hesitant. “He’s writing new music and working on his first album. I guess I kind of want to follow his journey and redefinition of success in the music industry,”

Dr. Hudson hums. “I love it. Send me a draft.”

Alani swallows and takes a minute to consider the offer. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong about sharing her work privately with her advisor. She had been so excited about the potential of the article when it was first started, but it had since been neglected like so many of her other rejected pieces. Starting again seemed exciting, and she knew that Harry would be pleased to play such an important role in making her dreams come true. That had, after all, been the initial terms of their agreement. 

“Okay,” Alani accepts. “I will.”

********

Harry draws out the last note and Mitch lets the chord ring between them for a moment. 

“I think that’s the one,”

“Yeah, I liked that progression better,”

“Hope you got that, Bhasker,” Mitch calls to Jeff in the sound booth, who gives a thumbs up in response. 

Harry continues humming, his head still bobbing to the tune, when he hears the studio door creak unpleasantly. His eyes shoot up to find Alani wincing and timidly stepping into the room. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,”

He softens and beckons her over. “Never an interruption, sweets,”

Alani slots herself between his legs and wraps her arms around his neck, giving a gentle peck to the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together.

“How’s the weather?”

“Just got a lot sunnier,”

“Meeting go well?”

She nods and twists a lock of his chestnut hair between her fingers. “Yeah, actually,”

“Then we should celebrate!” Harry perks up, peppering a kiss to her cheek. “Dinner, wine, movie, the whole shebang,”

Alani frowns, thinking back to the article she promised Dr. Hudson. “Hmmm, raincheck?”

Her boyfriend deflates. “You’re ditching me?”

“Just for one night,” she explains, pulling him closer. “I wanna finish up some school stuff before our trip. Otherwise I won’t be able to give you my full attention,”

Harry pouts, but he nods understandingly. “‘Kay,”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ll miss you tons,”

“Ditto, sweets,”

Alani presses her forehead against his and her fingertips wander through the growing curls at the nape of his neck. “Please don’t be upset,”

Harry smiles warmly and smoothes his hands up and down her back. “Never, m’love. Could never be upset with you,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, planting a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey, I wanna play you somethin’,” 

Alani grins and pulls back a bit to read his expression. “Let’s hear it,”

Harry grabs the guitar next to him and slings it over his shoulder before adjusting the capo. The song starts sweet and gentle, his voice light to match the tune. 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home 

Alani watches in awe as he pours so much emotion behind every word, his vocals effortlessly powerful and rich. She claps when the song finishes and leans in for a kiss. 

“I love it,”

“S’not finished yet,” Harry shrugs, still fiddling with the strings. “Just the chorus right now,”

“Will you teach it to me?”

His brows raise in surprise. “You play?”

“No,” Alani admits. “But I have a feeling you’re a good teacher,”

“Well, let’s see what you got,”

Alani turns and Harry props the guitar in her lap, his arms wrapping around her as he guides her into the right position. His left hand demonstrates the beginning chord and she replaces his fingers on the fretboard to try for herself. She strums and the beginning note resonates in near-perfect pitch. 

“Hey,” Harry beams. “You’re a regular Hendrix,”

He continues positioning her fingers over the right spaces and letting her strum, humming the lyrics softly into the shell of her ear. 

“We don’t argue that much,” Alani defends playfully. 

Harry chuckles and kisses her temple. “Maybe not, but we’re really good at makin’ up.”

“Easy, Styles.”

********

Harry: Hungry?

Alani peels her eyes away from the computer screen and reads the message lighting up her phone. 

Alani: Not really

Harry: …

Harry: oh 

She laughs and pads over to the window. Sure enough, Harry holds up two bags and flashes a cheesy grin down below. 

“Need a study break?”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

Harry makes himself comfortable in the middle of her bed and unpacks the bags. 

“I’ve got a California and a spicy tuna for my favorite girl,” he announces. “With a side of eel sauce,”

“And the world's best boyfriend goes to Mr. Harry Styles,” Alani grins, taking a seat next to him. 

He smirks and pulls out his own order of miso soup and sushi. “How’s the homework comin’ along?”

“Not too shabby,”

“Glad to hear it,”

“Hey, what time do I meet you at the airport tomorrow?” she asks, dipping her roll in the sauce. 

Harry freezes and turns to her with confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, did my girlfriend just insinuate that we’re not leaving for the airport together?”

“I really need to finish this,” Alani explains. “It’s almost there,” 

“Two nights?” he complains. 

Alani nudges him with her shoulder and shakes her head. “We’re gonna be spending an entire week together, non-stop. You’re gonna get sick of me,”

“Never,” Harry rebuts. “Not possible,”

“Just one more night,” Alani bargains. “Then I’m all yours, no interruptions.”

He nods and takes a sip of his soup. “Alright, deal.”

You have to tell her, Jeff’s voice rings in his mind. 

********

The airline stewardess ushers Harry and Alani to their seats while Scott and Miles settle down a few rows behind. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from first-class, but suddenly the perks of having a famous boyfriend increased tenfold by the sight of their luxurious accommodations.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Alani asks while Harry hovers over his chair. 

“Sitting, or I was about to,”

“And you’re not even gonna offer rock-paper-scissors for the window seat?”

Harry shakes his head with an amused chuckle. “No because I already know that you’re gonna get up to pee every five minutes,”

“Not true,”

“It is too true and it’s exactly why we can’t cuddle while we fall asleep,”

“Or maybe the reason is because I’m claustrophobic and I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,”

Harry frowns. “Really?”

“No,” Alani admits, taking the aisle seat. “I just said that so you’d give me the window,”

“Get up, we’re switching,”

“Thank you, sunshine! You’re the best,”

Harry slumps into his new chair and crosses his arms. “Forty-five minutes and we’re already fighting like an old married couple,”

“Oh really?” Alani smirks. “Is that what old married couples argue about? Who gets the window seat?”

“And leaving the toilet seat up, going antique shopping—” 

“—What old married couples have you been hanging out with—?”

“—Picking up the kids from school,”

Alani presses a kiss to his shoulder and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyelids are still heavy from staying up the night before, but her article was completely finished and sent off to Dr. Hudson just like she’d promised. Now, she could enjoy her vacation free of any worry or obligation, completely focused on the perfect boy still rambling next to her. 

“But, obviously I mean that doesn’t count, right?” Harry asks, craning his neck and smiling softly when he sees that his girlfriend has already dozed off. He kisses the top of her head gently and lets his own eyes flutter close with a deep, contented breath. 

********

“And then I’ll have to repaint it, but I haven’t decided on a color yet,” Glenne explains to Alani as they stroll through the airport. 

Alani hums. “It was your grandmother’s?” 

“Well, it was somebody’s grandmother’s. We picked it up at this little antique shop in Santa Monica.”

Jeff escorts Glenne into the shuttle car while Harry and Alani share a knowing look and stifle their laughter. They shuffle into the back seats as Tom and his wife, Jenny, claim the middle row. 

“So you’re a journalist?” Jenny asks, turning in her seat eagerly to face Alani. 

“Not quite,” she explains with a polite smile. “Still a student, but hopefully someday,”

Jenny nods and twirls the ring around her finger. “Sounds exciting. Maybe you can hitch a ride on tour with this one and do some writing there.”

“Yeah,” Alani smiles, settling further into Harry’s side. “Maybe.”

The idea of traveling the world with Harry and being a part of the excitement of touring the album was something she had considered briefly, but hadn’t allowed herself to fully indulge until this moment. It was already thrilling to see him polish the songs he had begun during his trip, but she could only imagine how much more special it would be to see him perform them for the rest of the world. A twinge of jealousy sparks at the thought of having to share any part of him with the public, but Alani knows that his gifts are much too special to keep all for herself. Harry was golden and he deserved to shine in all of his radiant glory. That was exactly what she had penned in her article, and she said it not because he was her boyfriend and there were clear personal investments, but because she knew it was true even before he had shown any romantic interest in her. 

“What’s tour like?” Alani pipes up as Harry watches the landscape out his window. 

He considers it for a moment and clears his throat. “Fun, mostly. Can be tiring,”

“Lots of partying and adoring fans?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “Not so much the partying. Enthusiastic fans, sure,”

Alani narrows her eyes. “No partying?”

“Nope,” Harry reiterates. “Don’t really like to do all that stuff when I’m working. Also just didn’t wanna…”

He trails off and Alani waits a beat to see if he’ll continue. “Didn’t wanna?”

“Fuck it up,” he finishes. “You know, like, be the one who ruined a good thing for a little bit of fun.”

She lets his words settle in, rubbing a reassuring circle on the back of his hand. “Makes sense. Sounds really responsible of you to do that.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to her temple and resumes his study of the scenery. They chat amongst their friends for the remainder of the drive and Alani immediately presses Glenne and Jenny for information about her boyfriend in his younger years. They indulge her inquiries and ask their own questions, deciding privately after a few minutes that her and Harry are a good fit. 

When the group arrives at the resort, Glenne takes charge and instructs them all to meet at the lobby for lunch in twenty minutes. They collect their keys and head up to their respective rooms, which are all located on the very top floor. 

“What a view,” Alani muses as she takes in the sight from their private balcony. 

Harry admires the wonder on her face and nods, his eyes not leaving her side profile. “You’re tellin’ me,”

“Let’s never go home,” she poses, arms snaking around his torso. “Let’s stay here forever, just me and you,”

His throat tightens as he thinks back to the inevitable conversation waiting for them. Harry didn’t know why it was so hard to think about leaving because he had every intention of keeping touch and making their relationship work at all costs. But there was a part of him, a very tiny recess in the back of his mind, that feared the possibility of Alani not feeling the same. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want, sweets,”

Alani senses a shift in his demeanor, but she can’t read it. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Harry swallows, mustering up a small smile. “But I am hungry,”

She isn’t entirely convinced that there isn’t something bothering him, but she decides not to push it and tightens her grip around his waist, instead. 

“Race you to the lobby.”

“You’re on.”

********

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”

“Was I s’posed to?”

“My god,” Alani marvels. “You know, I’m starting to believe those rumors that you were grown in a lab,”

Harry’s brow raises and he blinks. “That I was what?”

The restaurant that Glenne and Jeff chose features an aquarium tunnel at the entrance, much to both Harry and Alani’s excitement. Fish, large and small, swim around them and the pair take turns pointing out their favorite colorful species. The Hull’s snap photos for their four year-old daughter, but Jenny also secretly captures one of Harry and Alani with their hands clasped under the mesmerizing blue lighting as a keepsake for her friend. 

“Add Finding Nemo to our movie list,” Alani says, admiring a clownfish that swims close to the glass. 

“S’it  gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,”

“Goddamnit,” 

Alani giggles softly and turns her head away from the glass to silently observe Harry under the lighting of the rippling water. The combination of his serene features and the sound of Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You over the sound system creates a perfect image in her mind, one that makes her afraid to blink, lest it be gone forever. Harry glances over at her through the corner of his eye and his lips curl. 

“Checkin’ me out?”

“Always,”

“Like whatcha see?”

“Love it.”

His heart nearly stops at her words, but before he has a chance to process their implication, the hostess calls on their group. 

“And I’ll have the piña colada,” Harry orders once they're seated. 

“Oh my god, H,” Glenne laughs from across the table. “That reminds me, remember your birthday last year when James got trashed and hoarded the karaoke machine for, like, two hours?”

“Ruined that song forever,” Jeff quips, reliving the memory of the Late-Late host drunkenly serenading the entire party with the same song on repeat. 

Harry cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I try not to,”

Alani watches as they reminisce on the event, adding their own details and pieces to the puzzle. It’s amusing to watch, but a small part of her also has to fight the pang of exclusion settling into the pit of her stomach. She feels guilty for being affected by it knowing, logically, that it isn’t intentional or malicious in any way. Still, Alani is painfully reminded of the vast differences between their worlds. Harry had gotten to know practically every part of her life, including her family, but there was still so much that she didn’t know about his. It was something she worked hard not to dwell on, given the novelty of their relationship, but she also worried that fear and insecurity would prevent her from investing what little of her heart Harry hadn’t claimed yet. 

“Who was it that started dancing on a table and almost broke a chandelier?” Tom asks, wracking his brain. 

“I think it was Ken—” Jeff hesitates, clearing his throat. “Actually, I don’t remember,”

Harry shifts in his seat beside Alani and reads over the menu, quickly changing the subject. “What’re you gonna get?”

“I don’t know,” Alani admits. “Everything looks so good,”

“Oh look,” Jenny pipes up across from Harry. “They’ve got your fav, the mango sorbet. I wonder if it’s as good as the one in Italy,”

Harry beams and reads over the item. “Oh yeah, that was amazin’,” 

Alani files the detail to the back of her mind. She hadn’t known mango was his favorite flavor of anything, and while it was a trivial detail, she realized that there were so still many little details about him that she wanted to know. Harry had made such an effort to remember everything about her, like her go-to sushi order and the fact that she always saved the kiwis for last in her fruit salad, so it made her feel a touch guilty that she hadn’t made the same effort. 

“Wanna share the coconut shrimp?” Alani asks with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s allergic,” Glenne says offhandedly, not cold or condescending, but more in the same way that an older sister would. 

“Oh my god,” Alani’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,”

Harry laughs lightly and shrugs. “S’okay, I’d let you poison me,”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Glenne apologizes, reaching her hand out to Alani. “I thought you knew.”

Alani accepts the hand and waves away her concern. “No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know, actually.”

“We can stop talking about my defects now,” Harry teases. “‘M not dyin’,”

He leans in closer to Alani and presses a kiss to her temple. “But if I was, it’d be an honor to have my last meal with you.”

She responds with a soft smile before returning her attention back to the menu. His sentiments, however sweet, unfortunately did very little to soothe the embarrassment of her mini faux pas. It was irrational, Alani knew this, but it made her wonder what else she didn’t know and what bigger secrets he was potentially keeping. Whose name had Jeff meant to say earlier to identify the mystery dancer at Harry’s party, and why had it created an awkward shift in the air? She decides not to let the spiraling questions spoil her fun and takes a generous sip of her cocktail to avoid them for the time being. 

********

Harry sets the room key on the nightstand next to their king sized bed and lets himself sink down into the soft mattress. The group had spent the entire day sightseeing, from botanical gardens to scenic beaches, but he was really itching for some quality time alone with Alani. Lately, their time together had been cut frustratingly short by work, school, and life in general. Even when they were seated right next to each other with arms linked or fingers interlocked, she felt far away and he didn’t know why. He hoped that this trip would allow them time to reconnect and solidify their relationship before he had to return to California. 

“Mini bar,” Alani comments, kicking her shoes off and wandering over to the small refrigerator in their suite. “Who’s paying again?”

“The label,”

“Thank you Columbia Records,”

She swipes a few bottles of tequila before climbing into the bed next to Harry. 

“Wanna play a game?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and nods. “What kinda game?”

“Never have I ever,” Alani explains. “But instead of putting your finger down, you take a shot,”

“Sounds dangerous,”

“It’ll be fun. You can go first if you want,”

He hums and nods in agreement before sitting up to face her. “‘Kay. Never have I ever...named my car after a musician,”

“Cheap shot,” Alani narrows her eyes, taking a sip from the bottle of Jose Cuervo. 

“Your turn,”

She fiddles with the bottle cap, a question already in mind, though she isn’t sure if she should ask it. 

“Never have I ever… dated a model,”

Harry’s brow furrows, but he opens his own bottle slowly and takes a sip. “So it’s that kind of never have I ever,”

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” Alani shrugs innocently. 

“Right. Never have I ever slept with a guy named David,”

Her eyes widen, but she laughs half-heartedly and takes a sip. “Jeez, okay. Never have I ever—”

“Wait, so you two actually…” Harry interrupts, trailing off at the end. 

“I mean,” Alani starts, her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “Yeah, a long time ago,”

“How long ago?”

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake—”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll play nice,”

“Alright,” Alani accepts. She knows that she should probably steer the game back onto safer territory, but the wound has been re-opened and she can’t resist the urge to keep picking at it. “Never have I ever slept with a fan,”

Harry takes a slow sip. “Never have I ever cheated on my partner,”

The bottle stays put in Alani’s hand. “Never had I ever gone on a vacation with my partner before this trip,”

The tequila washes over his tongue bitterly like the faint memories that it symbolizes. “Never have I ever dated someone just for the publicity,”

The bottle in Alani’s hand doesn’t move, much to Harry’s relief, but her mind is not as tranquil. 

“Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t,” she says slowly.  

Harry takes another shot and it burns all the way down. “Why are we doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna play anymore,”

“Alani,” he starts, springing to his feet when she leaves the bed. “Hey, look at me, please,”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lower lashes before turning to him. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid game,”

“S’just all out of context,” Harry offers, reaching for her hands. “Wasn’t the right way to have all of those conversations,”

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”

“What’s really botherin’ you, hm sweets?” He coos, bringing her cold knuckles to his warm lips. “Tell me, please?”

She releases a shaky breath and tries to sift through the fog in her brain for the right answer.

 “I don’t know, really, I just,” Alani hesitates. “Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, his hands lifting to cup her face. “God no, you’re the best,”

“Then why didn’t I know that your favorite ice cream flavor was mango? And why didn’t I know that you were allergic to coconut, and why—”

“Hang on, is that what this is all about?” he questions. “Cause I’ll go eat an entire coconut right now,”

Alani laughs lightly and pinches her eyes shut. “No, it’s not about that. I just feel like you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you make me feel so fucking special and, God, I just wanna be good enough for you because—”

Harry holds his breath and watches as her eyes gloss over. 

“Because I love you,” she finishes, voice small. “More than I ever thought possible,”

His own eyes sting, but he doesn’t fight the tears that fall as he presses his lips to hers firmly. 

“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “I love you so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy,”

Alani chuckles softly. “Ditto,”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for ages, can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“Guess you’re not the only one full of surprises.”

********

The early morning sunlight creeps gently into Harry and Alani’s room, casting a soft, golden glow onto the bare skin that peeks through the white duvet. Harry stirs first, a strand of Alani’s hair tickling his nose and making him smile. He prys his heavy eyelids open and winces at the dull aching of his head aggravated by the light. Alani hears his muffled groan and sighs, willing the sun to go back down and let her sleep a few more hours. 

“Mornin’ sweets,” he rasps with a warm kiss to her bare shoulder. 

She peels her own tired eyes open and flashes a sleepy grin. “Good morning, sunshine,”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Super. You?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his palm as he admires the traces of sleep still on her face.

“Just swell.”

Alani chuckles lightly and reaches a hand up to comb through his unruly bedhead. His skin is warm to the touch, and the light from the window casts a heavenly glow around his visage. She pokes her finger into his dimple, which elicits a soft laugh and makes his smile grow wider. They stay intertwined under the sheets as the sun fully rises and soak up their own details to keep as souvenirs from this moment. Alani takes in the scent of vanilla and the juxtaposition of Harry’s inked bicep against the plain, white sheets. He stores away the image of her sleepy, mocha eyes and the pink, manicured fingernails that trail up and down his arm. Neither of them are sure exactly how long they remain in this moment, for all they know it could be hours or days. But whatever the duration, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I need more time, Harry had told Jeff, but there was no more left to give. He had to tell her, and it was now or never. 

“Hey,” he begins carefully. “I need to tell you something,”

Alani sits up to be eye level with him and nods. “Anything,”

Harry waits a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder before letting the confession spill out. 

“I have to go back to L.A.,”

 “I kinda figured,”

He draws in a deep sigh of relief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Alani shrugs. “Hilo isn’t exactly Hollywood,”

“I asked for more time, but the label—”

“No, I get it. So… when? Next month?”

“Friday,”

Alani’s brows furrow. “This Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits with a gulp. 

“The last day of our trip?”

“Yes,”

Her heart drops into her stomach and she feels sick. It all made sense now why Harry’s mood had shifted when she jokingly asked him not to leave, and why he had been so insistent on spending as much time together as possible this week. Their game of never have I ever turned instantly defensive when asked about his dating history. Never had I ever gone on vacation with my partner before this trip. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. He had whisked her away on a farewell trip and God knows who else had been in her place before, or worse, who would be in it next. Harry was saying good-bye. 

“Wait,” Alani says finally, mind still racing too fast to process. “How long have you known?”

“Alani—”

“How long?”

Harry swallows. “Couple of weeks,”

“You knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me?” she questions incredulously.

“I tried—”

“You know that I hate surprises, you know how I feel about plans—”

“I’m sorry,” Harry insists, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never felt right,”

Alani rolls her eyes. “So what, you were just gonna leave a fucking sticky note on my pillow and hope for the best?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Is that why you gave me this necklace? A souvenir of our little summer fling so you could leave with a clear conscience?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “How could you even think that?”

“Because maybe it’s true. Why else would you wait until the very last minute to tell me about this?”

“Maybe we should take a minute,” he suggests, the whites of his eyes now bloodshot. “Before we say something we’ll regret,”

“I think I already did.” Alani admits. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. 

Harry’s head pounds and he feels like he’s drowning, treading water in every direction only to be dragged further into the current. He quickly pulls on his clothes from the night before and tries to steady his breathing. 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall,” he offers. “Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

Alani doesn’t respond or even meet his pleading eyes. She simply tightens the duvet around her body and turns her head to the window, letting a single, bitter tear roll down her cheek. The door closes softly and she is immediately filled with regret and guilt. Had she truly meant all of the things she said? Or was it fear and the instinct to flee taking over her mouth? Alani wanted to believe that she was wrong and that Harry hadn’t intentionally kept her in the dark, but from where she stood, the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds and all that was left was the storm. 

Harry trudges down the hallway and the walls spin, closing in on him slowly. If he had just told Alani sooner, everything would be different. He had avoided doing so for this exact reason and out of fear that their relationship wouldn’t be worth the risk in her mind. It was selfish—he was selfish—to try to make the decision for her, and now the woman he loved was getting ready to walk away because he had broken her trust. What else was there to do? His back meets the wall and he sinks to the floor. 

“Hey H,” Jeff clears his throat from above. “We should talk,”

“She knows. Didn’t go well,”

“So she did approve the article?” 

Harry lifts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

There’s a harsh knock at the door and Alani jumps. In Harry’s absence, she had managed to cool off and sift through her frantic thoughts. She had been wrong to think that he used her, all it took was a quick stroll down memory lane to prove otherwise. He had never given her any true reason not to trust him, so there had to be some other reason why he hadn’t told her about his plans to leave so soon. Alani pads over to the door and unlocks it gently. 

“Harry, I’m sor—”

“Wanna talk about surprises?” he seethes. “What the fuck is this?”

She squints at the phone screen that he holds up to her face and the title of her unpublished article stares back at her. 

“I don’t know—”

“Well it has your goddamn name on it,” Harry shoots back. 

Alani steps aside and lets him into the room before she closes the door behind her. “I can explain—”

“Did you write it or not?”

“Yes, but—”

He shuts the phone off and slams it face down onto the night stand. “How fucking dare you call me a liar and then pull this shit behind my back,”

“I didn’t lie,” Alani defends, voice weak. “I had no idea it was going to be published, please just listen—”

“A class project,” he interrupts with his back still turned. “That’s what you said,”

“It was never meant to be released,”

“How do I know that? How do I know you’re not just trying to cover your ass?”

“Please,” Alani begs as her vision begins to blur. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said all those things,”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and casts his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to quell the emotion that pools behind his eyes. 

“So why did you?”

“I was scared,”

“Of?”

Alani takes a deep breath. “Of losing you for good. Of falling in l—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t finish that sentence,”

“I don’t know how,” she tries again. “And I don’t know who released it, but I swear—”

“You really expect me to trust a word you say after you accused me of lying about this whole thing, about us?”

Harry’s  gaze lowers back to hers and the bright, green eyes that she has come to love are replaced with a blood-shot, stormy sea that makes her stomach drop. The words get caught in her throat. 

“I fucked up,” he continues. “I know that I should’ve told you. But I’m having a hard time believing that this wasn’t planned, that this random website would just accidentally publish your work without your consent,”

Alani can’t explain it either, she truly had no idea how her writing had ended up in the wrong hands. There was only one other person she had entrusted it with, but surely Dr. Hudson hadn’t betrayed her, had she? Alani didn’t know who to believe anymore. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she tries. “I didn’t mean what I said, and I know I can’t take it back, but you have to at least believe that I never wanted to hurt you,”

Harry is silent for a moment, and Alani decides that it’s her turn to tell the truth. There was nothing left to lose. 

“At first, I did want to publish it,” she explains. “But I changed my mind and I scrapped the whole thing. In the end, the only person I intended to show it to was you,”

“So how did it get onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see?” he presses. 

Alani sighs. “My advisor wanted to know what I was working on, so I sent it to her, but she never had my permission to publish it. Now I realize how stupid it sounds, but it’s the truth,”

“If you had come to me, I would have given you permission,”

“I’m so sorry,”

Harry’s shoulders tense. Every fiber of his being  wants to believe her, but how could he? She had told him herself that things would be messy and warned him that he didn’t know what he was asking by pursuing a relationship with her. Maybe it really was all his fault for not seeing the signs, but that still didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust her anymore. And based on her reaction to the news of his departure, it seemed as though Alani didn’t trust him either. 

“Even if you’re telling the truth,” Harry begins, slow and deliberate. “You still thought, after everything, that I would abandon you. And if that’s the kind of person you think I am, if that’s the person you wrote about—”

“Harry—”

“Then I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

“Please, don’t go.” Alani cries but it’s too late. The door slams and her heart falls. 

After a beat, she races to the door and into the hallway but there’s no sign of Harry. As quickly as he had appeared into her life, he had vanished. Gone without a trace.

[stayforya]

SPRING DAY | MIN YOONGI

member: min yoongi

genre: soulmate!au

words: 7.9k

summary: from the moment you said hello to the moment you teared apart, from winter to spring – you never stopped thinking about each other, not even a day.

a/n: every time I listen to spring day, I can imagine many scenarios and this is one of them. long time friends/lovers who keep meeting again because life doesn't seem to want them apart.

spring, 5 years ago

spring is one of the most beautiful seasons. after a long, cold and monochromatic winter, the flowers start to bloom, the trees become green again and the fresh air and bright sun breathes life into people’s faces. you were going through a good moment – finally started college, met new people, got into a whole new world. even though you weren’t very good at starting things over, the challenging feeling would always be worth it in the end and you were quite excited about the unknown this time. the idea of ​​how unexpected life is and how the little moments of today can become decisive in the future has given you a sense of "destined to be". the random person you partnered with for an assignment in the first few weeks of school was now your best partner, for instance. 

later that day, you finished everything you had to do. in the front courtyard of the university, the cherry blossoms were blooming and some petals even fell due to the strong wind that blew every now and then. it was a romantic setting, some couples were walking and hugging, some people (like you) were watching or reading books under the trees, and a few others seemed to be living a decisive moment on a beautiful day. a day like that didn't go well with breakups, but the couple sitting on the bench a few meters from where you were seemed to be going through a difficult time.

“just tell me right away. you’re letting me go because you found a better one, isn’t it?”, his voice was stable and calm, as if he wasn't sad. but his face showed something else, he barely looked at the woman beside him.

“where would I find someone better than you? listen, what I’m saying is that we are both going through a hard time”, she explained, gesturing a lot.

“we are not going through a hard time in this relationship. our issues come from college, job, these kind of stuff. but between us, isn’t it all fine?”

she remained silent, no longer looking at him but at her own hands on her legs. you felt weird for listening to that conversation while keeping your head hidden behind the book you were reading.

“my family and I have other plans for me now. I’m going abroad”, the woman said. that made the guy immediately look at her, probably looking for answers in her face, but all he could find were more questions.

“so why are you creating excuses? why didn’t you say it right away?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you! and I am hurting too”, she was actively defending herself as if she was being wrongly accused.

“are you? are you really? I am almost graduating and I have no steady job, but I would move heavens and earth to find anything that would make you feel safer with me. I was ready to give you whatever you needed.”

his words were so sincere she started to cry. you could see the tears falling down from her big eyes and his hands reaching hers. she didn’t let him touch her hand because she reached out for a hug, holding him closer not to keep him, but to say goodbye. you didn’t know if he still had hope, if he was still waiting for her to change her mind and stay with him.

“you can’t give me what I need, yoongi. I’m sorry”, she said looking into his small and sad eyes that didn’t shed a tear.

“will you come back?”, he asked.

she shook her head in denial, “I still don’t know. don’t wait for me, though, you’ll find someone better.”

he didn’t say anything else while she stood up and left. he also didn’t look her way again, maybe because it would make the moment even harder. by the way his face seemed unbothered, you knew he was the type that hurts inside. the type that wanted her to stay, even though he didn’t ask for it directly. you spent the rest of the day thinking about this couple, the reasons that made her go away. as a believer, you know everything happens for a reason and you were dying to know how that love story would lead to the other chapters of that couple’s life. it was just your common habit, to imagine what fate had prepared for people, how moments interconnected and how paths could cross again. you always think about it, always about others, never about you. 

didn't fate have something ready for you too?

winter, 5 years ago

rainy days were great... when you were home. to go out in the pouring rain could be very annoying, considering what the wet weather makes to your hair and how tricky it is to run under the rain. as if you didn't know that, you still left home late. you had this very important presentation about modern art at the fine art department, which was open to the public. thankfully, there would be many other presentations happening at the same time as yours and the rain could make people give up going. the auditorium was reasonably full when you arrived. there were fifteen minutes to go and your professor was already looking at her watch impatiently when she saw you walk through the doors.

“I thought you wouldn’t come!”

“I’m sorry, ms. lee. the rain didn’t help at all”, you sighed, putting your bag on the table. “is everything ready?”

“yes, we still have some time. here”, she handed you a bottle of water. she was a great professor. that presentation wasn't the easiest thing you had done in life (in fact, it was very challenging), but she believed you when she chose you after a classroom presentation. and when someone believes in you, you must also believe in yourself. 

during the remaining fifteen minutes, more people arrived and you went up the stairs to the auditorium stage. your heart was beating so hard that you could only hear the blood pumping. talking about modern art is a pleasure to you. from the historical to the visual – when the pictures appeared on the big screen behind you –, it was like immersing yourself in the painters' minds. all you wanted to do was to transmit some passion on to those who were watching the presentation, because that is exactly what you feel when you are studying the fascinating world of art.

and so you did. you didn’t have more than thirty minutes to say everything you wanted to say, but it went just like you rehearsed a hundred times at home. it was fascinating to see some unknown faces enjoying the historical and visual travel you tried to communicate through the images stamped on the big screen. after you, someone else would present too for the next thirty minutes, so you sat down to watch and breath again, feeling as if a heavy weight was taken off your back.

“what is the next presentation about?”, you whispered to your colleague. 

“it’s about the relationship between music and art”, he gave you the flyer of the event. you found your photo there, along with all the people who would be presenting that week, schedules and themes. you were too focused on that flyer, but when classical music reached your ears, your attention went directly to the stage.

the man on the stage was wearing all black clothes. the turtleneck shirt, the coat on top of it and the glasses made him look like a professor, but you knew that everyone who was presenting was still a student. he spoke smoothly, which perfectly matched what he was talking about and made the entire auditorium pay attention not to miss a word. somehow that spell was hitting you too. you had studied a lot what you needed to say, but the way he spoke seemed like he had already been born knowing everything. it was a relief that he took the stage after you and not before.

after all, everyone got up and started to leave the auditorium. the organizing team, however, remained there and so did you. the turtleneck guy (you decided to call him like that) was there, still talking to two people who went to ask him questions after the presentation. you were also finishing a brief conversation with a girl very interested in modern art.

ms. lee called you and you immediately answered. she wanted to thank everyone for the hard work, as she always did. you saw the turtleneck guy approaching the group too.

“it was great, everyone! we shall do it again”, the whole group smiled. “of course I need to thank the team from music department, thank you for joining us and bringing so much content to today’s meeting. mr. min, your professor must be very proud of you.”

it seemed like everyone knew who mr. min was, you were the last one to find out by looking at the same direction as ms. lee. the turtleneck guy was mr. min and it sounded even more sophisticated.

“thank you, ms. lee”, he formally thanked while a shy smile appeared on his lips. you wondered if you were overanalysing him, since you couldn’t lose any opportunity of looking at him, mainly because his face was somehow familiar. 

you didn’t know you’d do what you did next until you already had done. when everyone started to leave the auditorium, you followed mr. min-turtleneck for some reason.

“congratulations on your presentation”, he looked back to find out who was the owner of the voice. it was okay to say that, right? you and him were the ones who presented something, so it was perfectly okay to congratulate him.

“oh, thank you. congratulations on yours, too”, it was kind of... nonchalant. or maybe you were expecting more, even though he didn't say more than this to anyone else during the last minutes. 

he kept walking and you stood in the hall, wondering if you should walk into another auditorium to attend a lecture or just go home. the rain hadn’t ceased, you could see through the big glass doors of the building, and your professor and colleagues had gone somewhere else, but you had already lost sight of them. you walked to the glass doors to watch the rain while you waited for it to stop. it wasn't like you had nothing to do, you just weren't in a hurry to get home.

your phone was ringing non-stop because of the messages, which you read and replied quickly. the ideal for that post-presentation night was to go out with your friends, eat something, have fun. however, everyone was busy or traveling, so you would have to deal with an evening alone watching netflix and eating chips (which wasn't too bad, honestly).

you felt a human presence next to you, but you were too absorbed in watching the rain to look at the person. only when you heard the sound of someone putting up an umbrella, you redirected your attention. about to step out of the building, there he was: mr. min. you swear you looked at him for only two seconds, but it was enough for him to notice and look back at you. you didn’t avoid eye contact, though, because it would be more awkward and, honestly, you didn’t know what to do when the whole hall was empty, leaving you and him alone.

“do you have an umbrella?”, he asked. the words ran out your mind for a moment.

“I don’t”, you answered. it would definitely be easier to say you did, so the conversation would be over and your mind would be at ease again, because your brain was working so hard you didn’t understand what was going on. was it because he was a very smart guy and you were scared to sound stupid?

“do you want to...”, he didn’t finish the sentence and you felt so much better to see he was feeling awkward to say that too. mr. min was pointing to his own umbrella with his head, which meant he was willing to help you get to the bus station or wherever you were going.

“it’s fine, I can wait.”

“it doesn’t seem like it will stop anytime soon...”

you looked at him for a while and shrugged, “fine”. you were proud of yourself, since you seemed calm and unconcerned by the way you responded . your brain rested a little now that the situation was under your control, but it didn't take long for you to feel tense again. he wouldn't borrow the umbrella, he would go with you under it, and the space seemed too small. “you can leave me at the bus stop”.

the whole one minute walk was silent. when you reached the bus stop, you were ready to say goodbye and thank him for the help. however, he didn’t leave, he put down the umbrella and stood there.

“it’s okay, you can go if you want to...”

he looked at you, confused, “go? where?”

you were as confused as him. “wait, will you wait for the bus too?”

“yes. why did you think I was here?”, his tone was calm, but you felt your face warming slowly as if you said something wrong. “wait, did I sound harsh?”, there was a bit of concern in his voice.

“no”, you giggled. 

“oh. I thought I made you blush because I sounded harsh.”

“huh? you didn’t- forget it”, you gave up and he smiled, not looking at you. you just stood there, waiting for the bus. it took about five minutes, but it felt like forever because you and mr. min were in complete silence. by the way, calling him ‘mr. min’ was starting to sound weird now that you saw a glimpse of his sense of humor.

when the bus arrived, he started to move and you noticed he was about to get on. he was closer to the door, so he got on first and sat on the chairs at the back. the bus was almost empty, just you, him and three people sat separately. where would you sit? would it be weird to sit far from him after getting to know him, or it would be better to sit next to him since you got to know him? it was pretty confusing and you had to think quickly. 

he was looking through the window when you sat by his side, unbothered by your presence. you were feeling stupid for sitting there and for the fact that your heart was beating faster than it should in this situation. why was that, though? maybe because of the mysterious vibe he had and how he started to show a glimpse of his personality when he joked about you blushing.

you knew breaking the silence was the only way to make it less awkward. “are you going home?”

“no, I’ll meet some friends”, he said, looking at the watch on his left arm. you never noticed watches a lot, for you they were just essencial items. but looking at his left arm, relatively close to yours, that silver watch was shining and his hands were so beautiful. you scolded yourself for paying attention to those details, after all, it would only lead you to have a crush on someone who had a high chance of never seeing you again. “you?”

“I’m heading home”, you felt his eyes indirectly looking at you. 

“you don’t seem very excited about it”, he said and you still felt his eyes on you. he was looking at your arms holding your bag, because you two were a little too close to look at each other’s faces.

“I am not, indeed. I’ll just buy food and watch a nice christmas movie”

“so, netflix and-”

“stop there, just netflix”, you interrupted him immediately because you didn't know if he would complete the sentence. he laughed after he understood what you were saying.

“I was just going to say netflix and eat”, discreetly, he raised his hands in surrender. “what are you planing to watch?”

you shrugged, “anything, from the grinch to a cliche rom-com.”

“it sounds fun, though”, he started to look at the window again.

“you don’t look like someone who watches the grinch or cliche rom-coms”, you said.

“it depends. I think everyone needs to watch movies like these once in a while.”

“and christmas time seems like the perfect time to watch them.”

“exactly”, he agreed. it didn't look like he was the serious person who was giving a lecture an hour ago, because of the way he managed to get from that to someone talking about fun movies with a stranger on the bus, and that said a lot about him. “oh, I gotta go”

the bus slowly stopped close to a busy street full of restaurants and people. he stood up and looked at you before the door opened.

“I’m yoongi, by the way”, he said.

“I’m y/n. nice to meet you”, you smiled without much excitement, a little disappointed because he was getting off the bus. 

summer, 4 years ago

it was finally summer time, the sun was bright and high in the sky. you felt it warming your skin and it felt good, because it was time to have fun. your friends called, wondering where were you. they were waiting for you at a restaurant, with some other friends of them and people you probably didn’t know yet. but to be honest, you were excited. it was summer, time to have fun and enjoy. plus, you were free for that day and the whole weekend too.

you entered through the front glass doors, thankful for the cold air conditioner that reduced the heat, because the day was really hot outdoors. your friend raised her hand, signaling where they were, and you walked to the table. there were ten people there, most of them you didn’t know but already had seen before.

you sat next to your other friend and she immediately asked if you wanted to eat something. you said yes, while she started to introduce you to everyone, but then your eyes met someone else’s. his eyebrows raised discreetly and you tilted your head to the left, trying to understand if you were really seeing what your eyes were witnessing. 

“we know each other”, he said when your friend said his name and yours, introducing both of you.

“really?”, she was surprised and glad at the same time. the way her eyes looked at yours said something, you immediately remembered: she said you and one of her friends definitely should meet, because you two would match well. was it him?

“yeah, we met before. it’s good to see you again”

“you too”, he said and then everyone started side conversations. he was sitting in front of you, which made him comfortable to talk a little bit more. “did you watch the grinch?”

“hm?”, you almost choked on what you were drinking, “you didn’t forget, right? actually I watched it and other two movies that night.”

“oh, it was a long night, then”, he took a sip of his drink.

“yep, it was”, you took a sip too.

when all of you left the restaurant, the sun was almost setting and the weather was much better. each would go their own way, some as a couple, others among friends and others alone. your two friends were accompanied by their boyfriends, but they still asked if you would like them to go home with you. you said you would be fine, you wanted to buy some stuff before going home, anyway. 

“didn’t you like him?”, one of them asked.

“who? yoongi?”

“yeah, he’s the guy I mentioned, the one that matches you well.”

you laughed, “no, forget it. but he’s nice.”

“well, you should give it a shot...”, she shrugged and smiled. yoongi said goodbye to his friends and walked up to you with his hands in his pockets. there were only you and him behind everyone else. 

“are you going to ride the bus?”

you looked at him quickly, “no, I’ll buy some stuff before.”

he nodded and didn’t say anything else, which forced you to speak again to keep the conversation going. you wanted to talk to him.

“and you?”

“I have nothing to do right now.”

“is this your way of offering to go with me?”

“excuse me?”, he looked at you and smiled. you noticed you were smiling too, because looking at his face made you smile for no reason. “if you want me to go, just ask.”

“I want you to come with me. what about it?”

“I will go with you, thanks”, he was acting so cool you laughed at his attitude.

walking around with yoongi wasn’t supposed to be that fun – at least you didn’t expect it to be. he helped you to find nice sneakers, laughing at the ones that didn’t fit your style at all. he went to the makeup store with you, giving an opinion on everything you tested (but his opinion wasn’t always valid because, when it comes to makeup, he said all of them looked good on you). 

“do you want to eat something?”, you asked, “you must be hungry.”

“nah, we have been walking for just four hours”, he exaggerated and made you laugh. you were walking just for one hour and a half, maybe.

“is that so boring to walk around with me that it feels like four hours?”, you pretended to be offended, but he hesitated for a second, as if reflecting on what he said before. “I’m just kidding”, you said.

“you really got me thinking for a second”, yoongi said and you two laughed for real. when you laugh with someone, it's like a connection is created between you. that's exactly what happened, and because of that connection, the two of you were closer, including physically. if at the beginning of the meeting you were a little far away, respecting the space, at that moment you could already feel your hand touching his when the bags you were holding hit the ones he was holding.

yoongi said he knew a nice place to stop by and eat, so you told him to take you there. it was a lovely cafe with a pleasant atmosphere, and he guided you to the second floor, where there were fewer people and more space to be at ease. he asked for the bag that was in your hand, added it to the bag that was in his and placed it near you.

“I’ve never been here, it’s nice”, you said.

“I come here mostly by myself, it's a quiet place to work. and the food here is great”, yoongi looked through the glass wall, through which you could see the street.

“and you work with music”, you guessed it from the lecture months ago.

“yes, I do”, he smiled slightly, but with satisfaction. you could tell he was looking even more cute at that moment under that light. “I like it very much, to be honest. but tell me about you too”

“what do I do? I am still studying art and now working with it. an internship”, you said.

“by the way you spoke at that lecture, I’m sure you’re doing amazing”, he said, but didn’t look directly at your face. the way yoongi was confident at some moments and shy at other ones made you smile every time.

the conversation was interrupted by the person bringing the orders. you thought you both would eat in silence, but none of you could stop talking. he asked more about you, and you answered, also asking about him. it was obvious how you two wanted to know each other in a short amount of time, as if at the end of the date you would part ways for a long time, like before.

you liked when he laughed at what you said, because it felt like winning an award. yoongi was deeply into that conversation, almost forgetting to eat the cake you two were sharing.

“if you don’t eat, I’ll do it”, you said.

“I’m full just by watching you eat”, he said and you giggled immediately, “was it too cringy?”, he laughed too.

“no, it wasn’t”, you knew your eyes said it all. you were having way too much fun.

yoongi told you stories about his work, his university years and his friends. you could say he was comfortable with you by the way he spoke easily, not holding back details. you enjoyed to listen to his intelectual side, the way he knew everything about music; but when he told you stories about his life, it was even more enjoyable. 

but he didn't just talk, because he wanted to know about you too. after only two or three questions from him, you were comfortable talking about your life and your plans. it wasn’t difficult to do that because he didn��t judge what you said or thought, he was interested. 

it is extremely difficult to put some feelings into words, but to shorten the story: the feeling was that you had found much more than a nice person, but a connection so strong that for a minute you could believe in soul mates. not soul mates who can’t live without each other, or who are incomplete on their own, or who knew each other from other lives, as people said. not like this. you felt like you connected more than through a good conversation, or physically, but in an even deeper way.

after eating and being much more closer than before, he walked to the bus stop with you. it was time to part ways and you were already missing the unexpected date you and him had. 

“let me give you my number”, he said, right away. you felt your heart skip a beat.

“here”, you handed him your phone. he called his number so your number could show up on his phone and he saved it.

“I had a great time today”, you said, not looking directly into his eyes.

“me too”, hands on the pockets. “wasn’t it unexpected? how we met today.”

“yeah, I had no idea we had mutual friends.”

“neither did I, even though my friends know a lot of people”, he smiled. “but it was a nice surprise to see you again.”

you finally looked at him. his eyes were affectionate, just like everything about him.

“then we should see each other again”, you said.

“then don’t go”, he joked, but he was also saying the truth. “you can call me, ok?”

“I’ll be waiting for your call, too”

“I’ll do it at the moment I ride the bus”, he said and you smiled. 

you got closer to him, your arms touching his. why wait? slowly, you touched his arms and placed yourself into them. you hugged him and he hugged you back, trying to hold on from not holding you closer and tighter. you felt his head touching yours. 

you and yoongi were so close that when you separated from the embrace, it was inevitable that the faces wouldn’t touch. then, without thinking too much, the two of you leaned in sync for a kiss. his gentle and warm lips touching yours, warming not only your face but your whole body. yoongi’s right hand stroked your hair and the side of your face, which made you forget everything else. he smiled when he noticed you liked the kiss. yes, you liked the kiss and you liked him. you liked to spend time with him. you could forget the bus, but it was almost arriving. your hand touched his neck and you left a last kiss on his pink small lips, noses touching.

autumn, 3 years ago

in one year together, a lot happened to you and yoongi. a lot of great things. you had dated before, but no one could ever compare to him. he was something else, he was special. he could be a very serious and focused guy when working, fun and affectionate when with you. was it possible not to love him? not to want to spend your whole life with him?

the way he holds you, kisses your cheeks with his pink lips, buries his face on your neck, caresses your hair. the way he tells you beautiful things, talks to you about his feelings, plays the piano while you’re around, watches the corniest movies with you and make fun of every cheesy line of it.

he doesn’t say he loves you all the time, because he shows it through every single thing he does for you and with you. but when he says it, he’s so sure, so intense, you could marry him right away. 

“you look tired”, he said, as tired as you after a long day of work.

“it’s because I am”, you smiled looking at him. you two were cuddling on the sofa. 

“do you want to eat?”

“no, I’m fine”, you touched his hair. “how about you?”

“as long as I’m with you I’m good”, he hid his face on your neck so his voice was barely audible.

you caressed his hands until he looked at you again, then leaning to a kiss. he loved when you kissed him first, he once said it (and never again, because he was shy to admit sometimes, but you knew it just by the way he smiled when your lips touched). he touched your arm, shoulder, neck, until his fingers were placed comfortably in your hair. he kissed you slowly and when your lips parted, still close enough, he looked at you and said “I love you”. he meant that. he always did. he meant it with his gentle touch, kisses, hugs, words, and even when he didn’t say anything but cared for you in so many ways. “please, just stay forever”, you whispered against his lips. he gave you a smooch. “between you and I, nothing will ever change”.

that moment lasted forever. it really felt eternal and you didn’t want to leave. you were in his apartment, which was almost half yours just by the amount of time you spent there. he gave you the password, said you could go there whenever you wanted, even if he wasn’t home. you did the same, gave your password to him, and that led you to a bunch of times he surprised you when you arrived home. wherever, to be you and him alone was the best thing in the world.

the bell rang and took you out of that moment. it was not eternal, after all. you hadn't ordered food, nobody was coming to visit. what could it be? you stayed there, sitting on the sofa, and yoongi got up to open the door, without even checking who was it through the screen next to the door. he didn't expect it to be who it was. he was too sure it was probably someone knocking on the wrong door, but it wasn't.

“jia?”, you couldn’t see who it was from where you were sitting, but he sounded very surprised.

“hey, long time no-”, she walked in and found you on the sofa, as confused as she was from that moment on, “oh, sorry.”

you got up quickly, as if you were a visitor and not the person who has been in that house almost every day in the last few months. “it’s okay”, you tried to smile.

“I’m jia”, she said.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you”

yoongi was still there, but you almost forgot. he was the central figure in the story, the person who knew you and knew jia, yet he was immobilized behind her. you could see him from where you were and he was uncomfortable, you knew it.

“sorry, y/n, this is jia. and jia, this is... y/n”, he said, pausing before he said your name. you thought he would say who jia was and who you were, but he didn’t. “I didn’t expect you to come here”, he said to her. 

“I thought you were by yourself, that’s why I came over. I arrived last week, but I lost your number... anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting”, she looked at you and you could say she wasn’t expecting you there. for some reason you felt like you were the person who was interrupting, because something about the way jia and yoongi communicated had some kind of familiarity from long before you.

“yeah, hm... the boxes are in the bedroom”, yoongi extended his arm towards the bedroom door. his bedroom. jia excused herself and opened the bedroom door, once again with such intimacy that it felt like she lived there for a long time. still standing there, you thought: maybe she really lived.

yoongi breathed out through his mouth, running a hand through his hair.

“won’t you help her?”, you said. it came out of your lips before you even think properly. he finally looked at you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to happen... like this.”

“was it supposed to happen, then?”, you asked, looking for your bag.

“yes, she was supposed to pick up her stuff a long time ago. I was almost sending it to charity... wait, are you going?”

you tried to look at the bedroom discreetly and saw jia there, “well, she’s right now sitting on your bed, I don’t think she’ll leave too soon.”

“hey”, he knew you were uncomfortable with the situation, “I’m sorry, it really was unexpected... jia is my ex girlfriend, as you may have noticed. we broke up a long time ago and now she’s just picking up her stuff.”

“yoongi”, jia showed up with a medium box and a backpack. yoongi, who was touching your arms, stopped instantly. you noticed, of course. “I couldn’t find my perfume anywhere”

“maybe you didn’t put it in the box or it’s just not here”, he said.

“yeah... that was a good one”, she looked at him and they were communicating through their eyes, a communication you were not part of and you would not understand. “hope you’re not keeping it, huh”, she joked and laughed.

you couldn’t see very well, but yoongi smiled for a second. what was happening there? were they just very friendly? you were there. his girlfriend. why were they acting as if you were just another friend standing there, or worse, as if you weren’t even there?

“I’ll open the door for you”, he walked her to the door and you stood there. you wanted to move, but somehow you were stuck.

“see you?”, she smiled at you.

you smiled back, “see you”, even though you didn’t really mean it. 

“oh, this is heavy...”, jia said.

“is your car downstairs?”, yoongi asked, opening the door.

“no, I took a cab here. I’ll just take the bus home now. it’s not that late, right?”

you showed up next to them, bag on your shoulder. yoongi looked at you and you felt like she was indirectly asking him to take her home. 

“I can... give you a ride, I guess”, he looked at her and then at you, wondering if you were okay with that. “it only takes ten minutes, I’ll come back”

“no problem, I’m also going home”, you said.

“won’t you wait? I thought you’d-”

“stay?”, you completed the sentence, “next time. bye”

you walked out. when you reached the sidewalk, you felt weaker and hated yourself for that. it was as if the feelings were hitting you because you knew, somehow, that would lead to something bad.

winter, 3 years ago

you wish everything could be different. the arrival of jia shook everything between you and yoongi, even when you tried so hard to keep it steady. she wasn’t a bad person exactly, but she surely wanted to start over from where they stopped and you felt like an intruder. days went by and things started to get harder. firstly she showed up out of nowhere to return his old coat that was still in her stuff. then, she started to send him messages, or set up a meeting with friends from the university days so he could go too. 

you never really told him you were annoyed by this. you just questioned him a couple times and he noticed how upset you were when jia made a new move. maybe the lack of communication set you two apart. day by day, you were drifting away from him and it was harder to come back to what you two were as a couple. you stopped going to his house, started to find excuses to not meet him, because you knew everything was different for you now. 

until the day he came to your house to spend time with you. you were different, you just couldn’t be with him like before, as if by staying far from him you could avoid the inevitable heartbreak. 

“what’s going on, y/n?”, for the first time ever you saw him extremely worried and upset. 

“nothing, I just... I’m just tired, yoongi”

“you don’t tell me what’s going on anymore, we don’t go out as often as we used to, you don’t even... you don’t even kiss me like you did before.”

tears started to fall from your eyes slowly, “did you ever ask? since your ex came back, did you ever ask why was I different?”

“why is jia a problem? what’s really going on?”

“see? I am telling you! everything changed from the day she put her feet on your apartment and it felt like she was just coming back to her place. she’s finding any excuse to meet you and you’re simply going. can’t you see? she doesn’t want to be friends with you, she wants you. I just don’t want to compete for a place in your heart.” 

you didn’t know how but it all came out as a flash flood. was he really naive about her intentions or did he like it? 

“y/n...”, he hugged you and you let him do it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“and I don’t want to be hurt. that’s why I can’t be the same anymore. I can’t be who I was because I feel like things changed.”

“please, I love you...”, he didn’t know what else to say but you could feel his heart beating fast.

“don’t say it...”, there in his arms, all your worries seemed to fade.

“there’s nothing going on between me and jia. it’s all past. please, don’t let it set us apart now.”

you walked away from the hug and looked at him. “is there something you wanna tell me?”, you knew him very well.

he sighed, sitting on the sofa. you sat by his side, still waiting. “I received my enlistment letter a while ago, before even meeting you that day. I can’t postpone it anymore, mainly now that I already achieved my academic goals. I really need to fulfill my duty, y/n.”

“wait...”, you were confused, “I thought you already completed your military service.”

“most people did... I wish I could have done it before, but I had to go through a shoulder surgery. I told you about the accident while working for the company that fired me after that. I was dealing legally for a long time to finally receive the benefits I didn't get from the company back then, and jia was helping me with this, since she’s a lawyer.”

“you should have told me.”

“yes. I should have told you since the start. I’m sorry for that... I didn’t want to worry you.”

“the only reason you postponed was the surgery?”

“no, at that time I got accept into the university and wasn’t able to stop studying for two years, because I was enjoying it so much ”, he was very sincere. “I love to study and work with music, but I know I also have to fulfill my duty now.”

to hear him say that again made it feel more real.

“when are you going?”

“next week”, he looked away while saying this.

you blinked twice, trying to understand if you heard correctly. some of it had been explained, but now a new problem has arisen. you knew, he had to serve for two years in the army. two long years. would you two be able to wait? you needed to think. the idea of seeing him just a couple times during the year, how would you deal with it?

he pulled you into a hug again and then whispered, “I’m sorry”, and you almost didn’t hear it. he hugged you so tight, you wanted to cry. cry because of everything, cry because of him, because of you, because of the love you were feeling.

“will we be able to do it?”, you looked at him, still into his arms. 

he touched your face and looked into your eyes. you knew his eyes very well and you could notice the sadness in them. “I don’t want to be apart”.

“neither do I.”

but how would you manage it? he didn’t know. none of you did. you only knew you wanted him – would that be enough for the two years ahead? so many questions. you shut all of them by kissing him like before, like you missed him already.

summer, 2 years ago

since you lost contact with yoongi, you were trying to move on day by day. breaking up wasn’t the only solution, but you and yoongi decided it was the best. you met him one day before he enlisted and had a great time together, as friends. 

you talked to him once in a while, when he sent a text or a picture, and it made your hear race because of the notification. you met your friends in common, even met jia on a store, which was surprisingly nice. but of course, even moving on, even finding things to do on your own, even not being in bad terms with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and wondering: did he think of you too? would you even meet him again?

you didn’t know, but he always thought of you. he thought about sending you a text or a picture when he had time to use his phone, but maybe it wasn’t the best option since you were living a life without him now. he was thinking of you while you were thinking of him. missing each other and wondering without answers. 

on a day off, he was walking by the same street you two hang out on that summer day, for the first time. he didn’t know you were there too, just like you didn’t know he was there, but for a second you thought you saw him.

winter, months ago

how could you watch the grinch and those cheesy rom-coms without thinking of him? you smiled, wanting to send him a picture of your tv. “hey, guess what I’m watching for the 2397473rd time?”, you almost typed. does he have time off on christmas or... has he been discharged already? no, maybe he’s busy, you thought.

he was home that night, by himself. drinking wine, eating and, yes, watching tv. searching for the grinch or any new rom-com to watch, even though he didn’t really enjoy those at first. but because of you and the memories you two created together, those kind of movies made him feel good, have a good laugh and think of you. 

spring, nowadays

life is better on spring – that’s what you always thought. just by walking and seeing the cherry blossoms painting the world in pink made you feel like a brand new person. you were feeling good, having a nice time, feeling the spring breeze on your hair. for the first time in a while, you weren’t overthinking anything, your mind was completely in that moment.

it was 4pm, you finished all your work for that day and it was time to go home, take a bath, maybe hang out with your friends later... you were open to other possibilities. when you approached the avenue, the pedestrian crossing traffic light turned red and you remained standing, holding the bag with both hands in front of your body. you were looking at nothing in particular, but when your eyes briefly passed over the faces of people across the avenue, a face caught your eye.

under the golden light of that time of day, yoongi was standing in front of you. many meters away, but still in front of you. you would walk to the side he was on, he would walk to the side where you were and your paths would cross in the middle of the avenue. maybe he would pretend he didn't see you, or maybe you would. but was it possible to pretend when it was written on your faces how surprised you were to see each other again?

the traffic light was now green for the pedestrians and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. you started walking and then lost sight of him. for a second you thought you would stop in the middle of the avenue, just to look for him, but you were still walking to the other side. 

when all the people walked by and you were reaching the sidewalk on the side he was on, you saw him. standing in the same place, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his cell phone and wallet. looking at you. a strong breeze made some flowers come off the tree and it looked like a movie scene, those beautiful ones. was it fate? was that moment meant to be?

you were finally by his side, on the sidewalk, and felt his gaze on you. you always thought that, if you saw him, your first impulse would be to hug him again, but no – something stopped you. 

“hey”, he said first.

“hi”, you answered. “nice to see you”

“I’m- hm, nice to see you too. how are you?”

“I’m fine, yeah”, you brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “and you? how’s life going?”

you knew he finished his service months ago because a friend in common posted a picture with him. 

“great, I got a new job after completing my service”, he was still talking when a very hurried person accidentally bumped on your shoulder. then yoongi touched your arm lightly, so that the two of you would move away from that busy area a little.

“this is great news! I’m happy that now you’ll be able to keep working with what you like the most.”

“yeah, right? well... I’d love to hear about you too. maybe we can see each other anytime?”

you just needed five seconds of courage and less pride. now or never, you thought.

“do you have time?”, you heard the words coming out of your mouth.

“now?”, you could see he was surprised, but not in a bad way. 

“yes. maybe”

“I do”, he said, “let’s go somewhere, then”

“I need to buy some stuff, if you don’t mind”

“no problem”, he said with a smile on his face. you knew it because you looked at him quickly, smiling too. you two were walking side by side, trying to avoid eye contact and craving for looking at each other at the same time. it would take just a few minutes for you two to start feeling comfortable again, after all this time. you knew it because it was like this since the first time you met him and, years later, it surely didn’t change.

it was a spring day again; you missed him and he missed you. but now you were face to face.

[spartanxhunterx]

So late the party has left.

Ok, I've had this submission from @starmage2 for ever and just got around to it now.

As a heads up I've changed the 'Alien invasion ' to Gorilla Grodd invasion instead. Same general thing though.

-

Paris was not a place the flash visited often or even with purpose. A city of calm and peace that was unaffected by the world's crazies, maniacs and supervillians. There has never been a reason to be in Paris, for anyone from the league. Aside from maybe taking a superspeed shortcut or flying well above the city to make time to ones real destination.

But now Flash, or Barry Allen to those close to him, feared that the millennia long peace was going to be broken. News had spread that Gorilla Grodd, One of Flash's Rivals, had snuck his way to Paris, France, with plans to use De-evolution devices to regress the human population for his own uses.

That was Not something the justice league was going to ignore, it would be like ignoring an upstart villain or a call for aid. Such things were not taken lightly.

he had long since past Paris' border and was making his way to the Eiffel tower, Where the rest of the Justice league members that were joining him would be meeting up with him. It was considered the most neutral and hidden spot in Paris after dark.

Still, he indulged himself by taking the long scenic route, confident that he would beat everyone there. Except for maybe superman but who cares about that?

So it was a huge surprise, when passing the Louvre, that a large portal opened in front of him and before he could redirect himself he was already through to the other side, his feet skid against the oiled floor as he tumbled into a pre-placed net. The trap triggered and the next thing he knew he was tied up and dangling a foot off the floor.

Ignoring the oncoming footsteps he tried twisting his limbs, if he could move just the slightest amount he could friction burn the ropes around him to free him. It wasn't until he felt something pointy touch his chest and a hand guide his chin that he looked at the perpetrators. There were three, one female, two males.

one guy looked like he was dressed up as a monkey with a Bo Staff, the girl like a bee and the other guy... Well he wasn't sure up he was going to guess a horse due to the horseshoe they had.

"Watch it speedy." The girl talked, a hint of smug laced in her voice. "Try to vibrate your way out of that and I'll stick you to the spot."

" do you have any idea who I am? What kind of trouble you'll be in for doing this? " Cause he knew the rest of the team would be suspicious if he wasn't at least the second person there, these three were playing a dangerous game and he wasn't in the mood to deal with more wannabe villains.

"The Flash," the horse? Started , gesturing to his tied up self. "Fastest man alive, scarlet speedster, defender of Central City. And if my suspicions are correct, Barry Allen. "

flash sputtered slightly, voice cracking with his next words. "W-What, No!"

" Ha! Instant denial! " The monkey exclaimed as he pointed to him before clapping the other guy on the shoulder. " You got it right on the head Pegasus."

OK, Pegasus, one name down. "So, you the ring leader here?" He turned to him and Barry realised he couldn't make out his expression due to his dark glasses, who wears sunglasses at night?

"No. I'm more of the... Tactical analysis type. Information provider and long term planner." He pointed to the other two. " My cohorts here are Abeille and roi singe. "

 "The more important thing here, is why is the justice league here in Paris when you've been banned from entering."

 " What! When did this happen!? "

 "Six years ago."

Flash stared dumbfounded at the three, all attempts to escape forgotten. The JL was banned from Paris? And had been for six years? "Why?"

" Oh please. " Abeille scoffed as she picked up her discarded coffee drink, taking a slow sip to force tension to grow. "Don't act like you don't know why, you're fully aware and if not?... Ask Green lantern."

Roi singe's Bo Staff let out a chime and he slid open the panel to reveal the communicator. "Anything on your end yet?" The voice on the other end was feminine, the three Parisian heroes easily recognized Ladybugs voice.

" Yeah actually, managed to bag the Flash, trap worked like a Charm. "

"The Flash? Interesting. See what he knows, we've got reports of odd noises coming from an old abandoned warehouse. Me, Viper And Ry are gonna check it out, Chats on the way to you and so are some local Officers, let them deal with the Flash. "

"So, what are you doing here Speedy wonder?" Pegasus smacked Roi on the chest before turning his critical gaze to the tied up hero.

"What he means is, why are you hear and who else should we expect, I doubt you came to Paris for a holiday. You shouldn't have been caught by this trap, you react too fast, you were occupied with something."

" The JL had received reports that Grodd, Gorilla Grodd, has made his way to Paris. Nothing good had ever come from him being anywhere near humans so we sent a team to deal with it before too much damage can arise. "

The three of them looked at each other skeptically, since when did the JL care about collateral damage?

"Ok, meet up point, now."

" You think I'm gonna tell that to a bunch of upstart villains? "

There was a moment of silence before the three of them burst out laughing, Roi had to prop himself up by his staff while Abeille almost doubled over. When she was done she splashed the remains of her, now cold, coffee over the heroes face.

"Villains? Really?" She sneared pulling the heroes face closer to hers. "We are the heroes of Paris, Defenders of France, part of the Miracle team. If you ever get the chance, ask Diana what a Miraculous is... And she will know, any statement to the contradictory is a lie."

"Now, meet up location?"

" Eiffel tower. "

" Who will be there? "

"Batman, Superman, Wonder woman, Green lantern And Robin."

"Good. Officer Cuff him and give him a cell." Unknown to The Flash several officers had arrived, they quickly slapped on some anti-meta handcuffs before removing him from the net , shoving the 'hero ' into the police car before driving away.

"Chat's on his way to the tower, let's give him some back up."

-

It was twenty minutes later, the use of two vemons, one uproar and the combined might of Pegasus, Abeille, Roi singe, Chat Noir and Carapace to subdue the heroes who had been waiting for the Flash.

Not that the flight was difficult, not while Green lanterns ring was on the Fritz and couldn't form a single thing, Superman was Frozen in place, Along with Robin, Batman was being held in a restraint by Carapace and Diana had been given a fright by being teleported way above them for a few moments before she and Green lantern were tied up in Abeille's Wire.

it was a good thing the team was well within their mid twenties, had they been teens their miraculous would have run out by now. Instead they could cast their powers as much as they wished while only gaining some exhaustion if they went too far. Without the fear of de-transforming.

"Well... That was easy." Roi Singe leaned against the frozen Form of Robin, not bothered by the fact that the violent vigilant was frozen mid-strike.

"I don't think..." Carapace grunted as he tightened his grip to Batmans arms , keeping a hold above his elbows so he could keep the man's arms behind his back. "Getting the drop on unsuspecting people AND freezing their power player," his head jutted to superman, where Chat Noir was happily sitting on his shoulders as he played with his tool. "Can be considered a fight, more like a slaughter really. "

"I agree." Abeille nodded as she tugged her two captives closer to her, without missing a beat she sat on the Amazonian's back before propping her feet up on Green lanterns head. "So, greenie, recognise us?"

"Should I?" He tried to move his head from under the bee hero's foot but was quickly met with the heel of said foot impacting the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for!?"

" You really don't recognise me Hal Jordan? " Chat Noir growled out as he leaped off supermans shoulders before lifting the other others face with his baton.

Said hero stiffened at his name and the Cat Hero took it as his cue to continue. "The justice League receive, over a period of three years, a large amount of calls for aid from France, Paris specifically."

Both Batman and Wonder woman ceased their resistance as they heard this, why was this the first time they were hearing it?

"From two, young, barely teen, kids. Who had far too much responsibility thrusted onto them, who had to fight a maniac who mind controlled and powered up people who were experiencing negative emotion. "

"He targeted kids... A lot."

" What? " Despite their age and experience many of those present flinched at the harshness in Batmans voice, Pegasus turned to him, emotion hidden behind his darkened glasses.

"The butterfly Miraculous of Transmission is able to find people who experience strong emotion, be they negative or positive and empower them based on the current circumstances, like say... "

He paused as he tried to find a viable scenario to use.

"Ok, if you say someone falling from a tall tower and you really wanted to save them, a butterfly weilder could empower you and give you flight, either by giving you wings or... Making you like him." He pointed to superman.

"Hawkmoth, however, would wait until you had negative emotions, being dumped, bullied, fired so on and so forth normally caused these things and he would make it possible to get revenge, with the exception being that they HAD to get Ladybug And Chat Noirs miraculous to pay off the 'debt' they were in. "

"They never remembered the things they did, fortunately, can't say the same for those who died and came back to life though."

Those present Blinked, Batmans mouth opened and closed for a moment before his steely gaze landed on Hal.

"Paris once Flooded, an estimated 87% of Paris drowned that day... The other 13% wasn't purely kids."

"Hal."

" I didn't know ok! " Hal was recoiling from the glare that Batman was sending his way. "I thought it was a prank, ok! I didn't think it was real, how can you take two kids who dress up as a Ladybug And a Cat seriously?"

"You should have investigated, met up with them and assessed the situation First, not assumed."

" I know. " Hal's head hit the floor beneath him with a sigh. The Paris hero's looked at him like he was worth less then the dirt under their boots.

"If you help us tonight, we'll help you afterwards." The looks returned to Batman where after a moment a few of them scoffed.

"Hawkmoth's in jail dude." Carapace shook the vigilante's arms. "Has been for... Four years now, we've already reclaimed the lost Miraculi and the book, now we just deal with petty crime and... Well, your mess, it seems."

"Stick to punching Gotham's nutbags, we'll deal with Paris." No one objected to Chat's words, though Batman defiantly seemed to slump at them.

The cat hero shook his head at the older hero before his baton rang, his flipped it open and a moment afterwards Ladybugs voice came through, the Paris hero's were able to pick up on the urgency in her voice.

"Chat, I need you, Roi, Bee, Pegasus and Rena here now."

" on it, " He looked up as he closed his baton. "You heard her, let's go, Pegasus, get Rena, Carapace, keep an eye on these lot."

" got it dude. " He let go of Batmans arms as Abeille released both wonder woman and Green lantern from their bindings. Simultaneously both superman and Robin were released from the effects of venom as it was released. The other Paris heroes leapt away.

"So... Carapace right?" Diana extended her hand out to the turtle hero, who had leant against the railings with his arms crossed.

"I know who you are, and Tikki is not happy with you right now." She flinched at that. "For twelve years you ignored us, four years after we beat Hawkmoth do you finally show up and it's to deal with one of your own. I think I speak for all of Paris when I say, We don't want you here. "

"Since when do you have the authority to do that?" Both Robin and Carapace had a small stare off before Carapace rolled his eyes .

"Since France voted to ban all Non-miraculous heroes, which includes the justice League. You didn't care before, why care now?"

" is there anything that can be done? "

Carapace shook his head at superman. "You are far too late on that dude, there's being late to a party then there's turning up after the hosts have cleaned up. "

 "You guys turned up for the party days after it was over, so save some face, wait for them to come back, get the Flash then leave. "

"The Flash is here?"

" Dudes spending his time in a cell tonight. "

[dian-morey]

The End (What Happens in a Dying Brain)

tw: death, dying, medical (brain mentions, mainly in second paragraph)

Synopsis: After Dian’s fall, what are his last thoughts of?

What happens in a dying brain, exactly? From a scientific standpoint, we know exactly what happens.

The neurons firing, zapping back and forth, slow. But that takes time. They actually did a study on rats, go figure. And they found that after about a minute all the electrical activity surges one last time. After it’s all dwindled and their EEG shows no activity. One last triumph of nature and then the neurons stop. They just stop. It’s called ‘the Wave of Death.’ 

When brain function ceases, your brain, that magnificent thing… it just turns to goo. It’s not a muscle, see, it’s just the softest of tissue held together by electricity coursing through it. It’s held together by you coursing through it. It is you. Everything that makes you who you are rests there. It’s kinda magical in its own way. Yeah, yeah, I’m a nerd. 

I’m somewhere in between those two stages right now. After death, pre… whatever happens next. It’s been less than a minute. I know this to be true, and yet, it feels like I’ve been stuck here for an eternity. 

Drifting.

So we know what happens in a dying brain on a physical level, but what about psychological? I’m living proof, well, not really… but proof that we remain conscious. At least as long as those neurons are still firing, however slow they may be. I can see them. Lighting up the darkness with a myriad of colors I never knew existed. And even though it is breathtaking… I have no breath left. 

This light show is a once in a lifetime experience. I should be grateful. But I don’t want to see the last sparks of me streaking across the blackness behind my eyes. I want to see my mother, my father, my brothers, that girl from undergrad and her smile. It always made my heart flutter, even now I feel as if it could jump start the muscle as it stands still in my chest. Hope she’s doing well. As I think of each of the people who touched my life, memories of them fill the darkness. 

The girl from undergrad, Katherine. She was leaning in for the last kiss we’d share. Just before this she told me she accepted an offer to go to a school in Boston. As much as it hurt to be happy for her, I was. I haven’t thought much about her since she and I lost contact, but I think she was the first woman I ever loved. Is that why I am thinking of her in my dying moments?

Devyn, hesitantly moving his hands; he’s testing out his first sign and then it clicks. I’ll always remember the look on his face. He can communicate effectively now. I was honored to be a part of his journey. 

Elliot, sleeping on my couch after a long night. I remember watching the sun come up after staying up the whole night with him. I would have given up years of sleep to spend nights like those with him again.

Sebastian, nonchalantly mentioning that he feels safe around me. At the time it left a sour taste in my mouth. I wasn’t anything special he could catch. Now all I feel is an ache, wishing I could have just been happy he felt he could open up to me.

Isaac, bent over with laughter as he had just accidentally turned my hair bright green. I was almost sick, begging him to turn it back. It all worked out in the end, but looking back I can laugh at it too.

Mazhar, bushy tailed and bright eyed as he opened his acceptance letter. He got his dream job and I really was green. He left a few weeks later. I tried to save face, but he had to have known I was bitter. I’m sorry, Mads… I really am proud of you.

Gem, so young and pent up as he stepped out of the police car. I could tell he was scared. I was too. Mama and Papa were getting older, I was worried they wouldn’t be able to handle a kid so… volatile. I was so wrong. Gem, you aren’t volatile. You’re misunderstood. I just wish I had more time to get to know you the way you’re so afraid to let us.

Mama and Papa, sitting at the dining table so late at night. I shouldn’t have been awake, but I snuck down the stairs to hear what they were whispering about. They were talking about me. About how they didn’t want me to feel as if they loved me less if they adopted this boy. They might not have known then, but they gave me the best gift they could have. A large and loving family. I never thought you loved me less. And I never should have thought less of myself for being surrounded by amazing individuals. I could have been a better son. I’m sorry.

More images flew past my vision, or whatever oblivion this was, all of friends and other memories that shaped me. Some too personal to share, sorry, even in dying moments I have some sense of privacy. I think this should count towards respect for the dead, letting me have my moment and all. 

The end of the film reel playing back came shuddering by, leaving me alone in the darkness yet again. But it wasn’t filled with the flashes of my neurons any longer. Just a singular soft white light that seemed so far, but isn’t this supposed to be all in my brain? How long has it been? Is this it? That’s the infamous white light that leads into the great beyond? I’m scared, oh I am terrified. And then all of a sudden I’m not. Not when the warmth of the light encroaches and washes over me. 

This is the end and it’s nothing to be afraid of.

[canwetalkaboutcaptainswan]

To Touch, To Hold

So, for years, YEARS, I've had this headcanon that Emma has this thing with touch. I mean we all know touch is Emma’s love language, and I've always found it interesting that after they kissed in Neverland, it seemed like Emma went out of her way to avoid touching Killian. And I always thought that it was pretty clear that her dam broke after the ice wall, so I’ve always had this exact scenario in my head, so much that sometimes I forget it didn’t actually happen. So now, years later, I’ve finally found the time to write it out. I hope you enjoy it. The pacing is a little different than my usual style, but I feel like it fits. It begins immediately after the 4x03 kiss, so watch that to get yourself in the mood. Let me know what you think!! 

also on AO3

**********

The kiss leaves her more than breathless, head cloudy with a kind of relief she didn’t expect. His fingers are still tangled in her tresses, his rings catching tendrils of the soft gold as he moves his hand to thumb at a tear that’s slipped down her cheek. She smiles, trying to convey with her eyes all she’s still not ready to say to him. A cool breeze flutters along the dark street, gently cooling their flushed cheeks. 

Killian is gazing into her face, seems to sense she wants to say something. But he’s surprised when all at once the scent of her floods him, her arms having wound tight and fast about his chest, head settling against his shoulder. He wraps his own arms around her, too, hand pressing strong and flat between her shoulder blades. He’s not used to this yet, even after her scramble for purchase against him once freed from the confines of the ice. Oh, but he will get used to it. There’s naught he loves more than his Swan like this, the simple touch of her body flush to his, allowing him to just hold her. He’s waited endless months to be honoured with this pleasure, and it’s not something he takes lightly. 

Emma sighs into his neck, trying to memorize this feeling of safety with each separate sense. The smell of brine on his collarbone, the way she can see his pulse jumping at his neck, the taste of his lips still fresh on her tongue. But most of all it’s his arms around her, his thumb rubbing a circle at the base of her neck, the muscles of his abdomen hard against her own, despite his many leather layers. She smiles ruefully to herself in the quiet sway of his embrace, contemplating how she lasted so long, resisting his every touch. It had truly been a conscious effort, for Emma knows herself. Touch has always been her way of communicating love, and after the overwhelming heat of that kiss in the brambles of Neverland, she knew she must hold this man at arm’s length, or she’d be fucked for him too far, too fast. She wasn’t ready to be so tethered to another, especially someone she could already tell came from an achingly similar past. So she had resisted. On countless occasions throughout their shared time these past months, her hand had twitched for his, heart aching for the contact. Both when she left him at the town line and when he found her in New York and made her remember, her body had screamed at her to touch, to hold. But each time she gritted her teeth, hard, and told herself not to make that irreversible dive, not yet. Not yet. 

All of her resolve had crumbled upon seeing his face through that little hole in the ice. She’d been nearly unconscious, her shivering long ceased, but somehow hearing him screech her name in anguish and seeing his face contorted in boundless worry for her had chilled her even more. And in a blur of flurried motion, resistance was forgotten as she sought warmth and refuge and safety in his arms. The weight of it robbed her of any ability to speak, and she was grateful knowing he’d simply blame the cold for her silence. 

Now, only a few days later, and she knows she’s addicted. Knows every fibre of her soul aches to touch him always, which is why she’d been so upset by his recent brush with disaster. Which is why, in the middle of the street this evening, she had mustered the courage to tell him she couldn’t bear to lose him. And now, in his arms, she’s loathe to let go at all. 

Moments pass, and he truly can’t believe his luck. She’s clung to him so tightly, her breath warm against his neck, so different from how it felt the last time they embraced. As thankful as he is for her newfound willingness to be close, Killian knows he must tread carefully. Oh, so carefully, now. “It’s alright love,” he whispers, daring to press a kiss to the top of her head. “All will be well. We’ll face what’s to come together, aye?”

Begrudgingly, she loosens her hold on him, enough to look up at him again. She breathes, nodding, almost more to herself than to him. Together. They would do it together. 

He turns slightly, moves them both away from the centre of the deserted street. “May I take you home, Swan?” he asks her, tipping his head in the direction of the loft. 

The burning starts in her then, instantly; suddenly and with fury. She tries to breathe against it, to get it to go away, but it doesn’t. It only roars in her throat, demanding her attention. Every ember screaming at her. Touch. Hold.

 No, she thinks to herself. No, you may not. 

Bloody hell, he thinks to himself, seeing clearly the wrinkle of her nose, some sort of struggle in her features. Have I upset her? I only- 

“Actually, I…” she says then, squaring her shoulders to face him, her posture almost businesslike all of a sudden. “I…” 

She stutters, and he waits. Patiently, he waits, unable to resist the tiniest encouraging nod. 

“What you said, about the weight of the world. I do. I feel it,” she confesses in a rush, and she looks down, away from his face, and puts her hands against his forearms. She feels the muscles jump beneath her fingers and the burning ebbs and flows, cooling slightly. 

“But I’d like it if you…held some of it. The weight,” she clarifies, exhaling deeply, daring to look back up at his eyes. 

They’re soft. So, so soft. He’s dumfounded, truthfully. Is this a trick? Is it real? He opens his mouth to reassure her there’s nothing he wants more than to help shoulder her burdens, but she soldiers right ahead, astounding him yet again. 

“And I’d like it if you held…me. I’d like it if you held me and I don’t want to go home.” 

“Oh, Swan,” he says reverently, heart breaking at the way her lip quivers, knowing how incredibly difficult it must have been for her to utter these words to him. He gathers her close again, hook firm at her hip and hand coming to rest again against her face. She leans into his touch, grips his forearms harder. He steadies his gaze, chest almost visibly swelling with the joy he feels. “I will gladly bear as much weight as you need me to, Emma. And it would be an honour to share my quarters with you, love. Please. Come.”

He holds her closely as they walk into Granny’s together, and already she’s burning for more contact. It’s a heady feeling, and again, she’s amazed at how long she managed to stave it off. He opens the door to his room and they shuffle inside, Killian quick to close it behind them. 

The intensity of the situation sits on Emma’s chest, and some of her feels shy, but most of her peels off her tan jacket, drops it to the floor, and immediately returns to the safe cradle of his arms, pressing as much of her body against his body as she can. 

He holds her again, flush to him, vowing to learn exactly how she likes it, vowing to do whatever it takes to make this woman want to stay with him forever. 

Her hands rove, they race, his hair, his back, his shoulders. She can’t keep still, wanting to touch him everywhere at once, everything she’s wanted for months suddenly beneath her fingertips. 

“You’re to tell me what you need, darling,” he whispers, his words briefly pausing her exploration. “Anything you need.” 

She eyes his lips and tugs on the lapels of his coat, drawing his mouth to hers for what he can only describe as a heavenly kiss. He reciprocates in kind, tongue tracing the seam of her lips in the way that made her groan in the jungle. 

She breaks for air, staring up at him again. “I think I…I think I’d like a quick shower. Could you find me something to wear?” she asks, voice soft and sweet. 

He chuckles at her request, if only because it’s the last thing he’d imagine her asking. So recently she’d been desperate to run from him, to bury her head in the sand of her made-up New York life. And now she’d like some of his clothes? 

“Of course, love,” he assures her, running his hand down the side of her neck to squeeze her shoulder. “Take your time.”

He fetches one of his thin button up shirts and some pants that will surely be too large for her, and she skitters into the little bathroom, shutting the door and feeling an absurd pang of loss when she’s separated from him. She grips the sink for a moment, and stares at her own green eyes in the mirror. “What are you doing?” She whispers to her reflection, considering her own question. 

“Giving in,” she answers, and she is baffled at how pathetically relieved her face looks. “Finally.” 

She takes the shower, and indeed keeps it quick, for she’s begun to burn up in longing again. She towels her hair dry, and picks up the clothes he chose for her. She puts on the navy button up, and finds it’s long enough to cover her ass; and so decides to skip the pants, just to drive him crazy. “Slow,” she tells herself in the mirror before opening the door to him. “Go. Slow.” 

His Swan emerges in naught but his thin shirt and he thinks he might bloody faint. Her long, creamy legs are torturously on display, and he clenches his jaw, hard, to keep his composure. Her hair is wet, the navy of the button down a lovely contrast against her pale skin. She smirks at him and he narrows his eyes playfully. “Did you find my pants unsuitable, Swan?” 

“Not unsuitable,” she teases, enjoying the way the tone has turned lighter, less intense. (For the moment at least.) “More like…unnecessary.” 

“Mmm,” he concedes, standing from his spot on the bed and beckoning for her to sit upon it. Her gaze is locked to his, watching him watch her. He doesn’t miss it, and once she sits, he leans to kiss her forehead. “My turn to wash, darling. I’ll be but a moment.” He says this like a promise, and it warms her in a way only he can.

He turns for the bathroom, and as soon as he clicks the door shut, her eyes come to rest on the other door in the room; the door out. What a perfect opportunity for her to run. She sighs, feeling a familiar, slight tug toward the escape. This is always the moment whenever she finds herself in a one-night tryst. The moment she darts and never looks back.  But this time, she bites her lip and shakes her head, leans further into the pillows that smell just like him. She puts a hand over her hammering heart, breathing through her nose to help her settle. This time, the urge to touch, to hold, will win. The urge to stay. 

He turns off the shower, and with a jolt, he realizes he’s given her a magnificent opportunity to run for the hills. Indubitable panic spikes within him, and he clambers out of the shower, drying himself in a fury and yanking on the pants she had forgone. Not wanting to startle her if she is in fact still there, he forces himself to open the door slowly, popping out only his head. Mercifully, she is still on the bed, long bare legs crossed at the ankles. He lets go of the breath he was holding and smiles. “Alright if I skip the shirt, love? Or would you consider me immoral?” His tone is teasing, but they both know that he really is asking. 

Her lips curve up into a hungry smile. “Fair’s fair,” she assents.

He opens the door wider then, and the sight of him bare from the waist up is not a sight she’ll soon forget. Lean, tanned muscle swathed in dark splendours of hair. Defined lines. His left wrist blunted, indents from the hook’s brace visible to her, even across the room. The jut of his hips. Oh, the ache and burn flares harshly now, scorching her. To touch. 

He is more than satisfied by how gobsmacked she appears now, but does his best to hide it. Instead, he fixes his gaze in that reverent look of wonder, drinking in the sight of her in his bed. His bed. 

At first, it frustrates her in that he doesn’t move to climb in the bed right away. She watches as instead he kneels on the floor, and reaches for her hands. She leans and turns to sit on the edge of the bed, facing him fully. The touch of his hand on hers is balm to her burning flesh. Suddenly her throat feels tight, because he’s gazing at her with so much love in his eyes; blissfully terrifying. 

He takes a steadying breath, measuring his next words carefully in his head before he speaks them. For they have made it so far this night, and he must not place one toe out of line. Regardless of how tempting she is with so much of her skin on display. He means to make her understand his intentions and his gratitude in a way that won’t make her feel suffocated. In a way that won’t make her regret not running when she had the chance. 

“Emma,” he starts, and already she is trying not to squirm, wants so badly to rake her fingers against the planes of his chest. “I need you to understand how grateful I am for what you shared with me tonight. With a past like yours...like ours…I know how difficult it can be to open up. And I…I’m proud of you, Swan.” 

The tears begin to well in her eyes then, and she squeezes his hand. Because he just…he understands. From the start, he’s always understood her. 

“And darling, to touch you…to hold you in my arms…I have yearned for it, for so long, love. But I need you to know that you will set our pace, Emma. Your comfort is all that matters to me. So you, love, you tell me what you need. What you want, when you want it. And I will gladly be ready, for whatever you wish.” 

His words wash over her like a tidal wave, and she’s overwhelmed. Your comfort is all that matters to me. 

“Killian, I…” she falters, unsure of how to explain that she needs to touch him, now. “Come up here, God. Please.” 

He climbs on the bed next to her, and at last. At last, he is hers for the taking. To touch. To hold. She waits one more beat. Takes one more second to appreciate what her life has been before this final surrender. For she knows, after this, there is no turning back. 

He sits patiently, watching her face, her every move. Her hands flutter upwards, and they shake, slightly. Slowly, she presses them, flat against his chest on the borders of his sternum, and he’s so solid. So real. She feels his skin move and stretch with his sharp inhale and she shuts her eyes, letting herself be soothed. His chest hair is as soft as she had dared to imagine it would be. She scratches through it gently, flips one of her hands over to feel it against her knuckles, and he finds his eyes want to slip closed under her tender touch, despite a deeper desire to continue to watch her. 

She smoothes her right hand up, over his nipple to his shoulder and down to rest on his bicep. It twitches under her hand and she smiles. She’s not burning anymore, but melting, and it’s so nice not to have to clench her teeth and resist. She watches his face carefully as her hand drifts lower, moves to cup the blunted end of his arm. She rubs her fingers over the puckered scars, her other hand jumping from his chest to cup his face, to nudge her fingertips through his stubble. 

I’m fucked, she thinks, knowing with certainty that she’ll never be able to be near him without craving his touch, ever again. 

As though he’s read her mind, tentatively he raises his hand. “May I touch, Swan?” 

“Yes,” she sighs, and she closes her eyes, so ready. 

With just two fingers, he begins toward her shoulder, tracing the outline of her collarbone. He pauses in the centre of her chest to stroke her throat, and her lips warble at how ridiculously gentle his touch is. She is well aware that he’s used that hand to kill, many times. But right now, she can’t see how it’s possible. He moves closer, hand moving up to trace the shell of her ear. He scratches lightly at the skin behind it, and she shivers, goosebumps everywhere. Her eyes open, and she reaches her hand up to circle his wrist, trapping his where it rests. 

And suddenly, they are kissing. Her mouth slants over his and he groans, his nose brushing along her cheek. She twines her fingers in his hair, and she’s sort of desperate to switch from touch and hold to pull and yank. She wants to let the fire consume her, but she knows if there is to be any chance of her solving this damned town’s many problems, she must. Go. Slow. He’s giving as good as he gets, this kiss so different than any others they’ve shared before. It’s intimate, it’s domestic. It’s new and it’s wonderful. 

She breaks it, but only to press her forehead to his, to breathe in his air. “Hold me, Killian,” she whispers. “Please, I need…” 

He reaches for her and she goes. Oh, she goes. He is breathless at the simple intimacy that is pulling her against him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She tucks her head under his chin, her cheek at his heart. Surviving, she remembers, from the street. He’s good at surviving.

She tangles her legs up with his in a near instant. He is amazed at how quickly she settles, nestles herself right in, her body pliable in his hold, molding her lines to match his. Every breath she takes he can feel, and the smell of her clean skin and her wet hair is better than he ever dared to imagine. He tries suddenly, to think of a time he’s ever felt more at home than this moment, and miserably fails. 

 The silk of the button down is slippery against his chest, but he anchors her there, all the same. She nearly combusts from the warmth of him around her, of him simply everywhere. She’s obsessed with the way it feels to press her face against his skin. Completely enraptured by his lips at her hairline, whispering nonsense about how precious she is to him. She feels his stumped arm kneading at the small of her back, and fuck, she finds herself wishing she had forgone his shirt as well. Slow, she reminds herself. Just take it slow. 

She flicks her wrist, and the room is dark. She delights in the fact that even though she can’t see him, she can feel him against her. It’s all she’s wanted every day since the blistering heat of Neverland. “It’s alright to sleep, Swan,” he promises. “I’ve a firm hold, now.” 

She closes her eyes, and drops three quick kisses to the base of his throat. She reaches her hand up to stroke his face in the dark, a silent prayer that he understands what she’s still too afraid to say. She is utterly relaxed, the burn for now, sated. For tonight, this is enough. To touch, to hold, to sleep, to stay. To wake in the morning, in his arms, where she...where she belongs. It’s enough. 

[roseinaugust]

Like an Old Enemy

Chapter Two: Beginnings

Summary: Miraculous Enemies AU. Gabriel Agreste has the Black Cat Miraculous in his possession, so when his wife, Emilie, "disappears," he sends his son, Adrien, undercover to pose as Ladybug's partner. Two years later, the once famous duo are sworn enemies. Marinette might have loved Chat Noir once, but now she would stop at nothing to defeat him. Adrien will do whatever it takes to bring his mother back. Best friends in their civilian lives, Adrien and Marinette find obstacles and complications when they can no longer deny their love for each other. But will they be able to understand and forgive the mistakes of their past? Or will they be doomed to end as bitter rivals a second time?

Rated: T

Pairings: Ladybug/Chat Noir Enemies, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Mutual Pining

Word Count: 5,462

Read on: ao3

A/N: I am only posting half of this chapter on tumblr so please read the rest on ao3! 

Marinette tried to reenter the classroom as quietly as she could—which was not very quiet at all. She winced as the door slammed shut behind her. Perhaps her encounter with Chat Noir riled her more than she wanted to believe. She gave an embarrassed smile to Mlle. Bustier before returning to her seat, trying not to think of her classmates’ eyes following her. 

Marinette sighed, relieved that she made it back before the period changed. When she sat down, she noticed that Adrien was missing. With Mlle. Bustier facing the chalkboard, Marinette seized her opportunity to tap Alya on the shoulder.

“Where’s Adrien?” She whispered to her friend sitting in front of her.

Alya leaned back in her seat to reply. “His dad pulled him out for a photo shoot.” 

“On the first day of school?”

Mlle. Bustier turned to face the class again, ceasing the girls’ conversation. Marinette slumped in her seat. First, her unfortunate meeting with Chat Noir, and now she didn’t even have her best friend around to distract her. 

The school year had barely started, and her attention was already drifting away from her classes. Marinette meandered through her classes, marking a fairly uneventful first day. Her scuffle this morning no longer seemed out of place—rather mundane, really. It’s been two long years since akuma battles became a commonplace activity for Marinette. Coincidentally, it was also the first day of school when her life changed forever. 

Marinette had woken up that morning expecting things to remain constant: Alya would still be her best friend, Chloé would still torment her for no reason, and science with Mlle. Mendeleiev would still bore her out of her skull. She did not expect that Paris would be attacked by a supervillain, and she definitely did not expect to become a superhero. 

The day began like any other. She was late for school—something that would never change regardless of her identity—she helped an elderly man cross the street, and only tripped a few hundred times. Things did not stay normal for very long, though. Mlle. Bustier was checking the roster when a sudden crash knocked through the classroom. A stone creature had burst through the wall and released a roar that could rival a lion. 

Marinette watched, frozen in confused horror, as the creature grabbed Myléne and Chloé. All she could hear were screams from the girls clutched in the monster’s hands and the panic from her remaining classmates. The creature smashed through the far wall and jumped out of the building, leaving a rubble in its wake.

“Everyone, go home now!” Mlle. Bustier ordered. Students scrambled out of the school, scared and unsure of what was happening. Marinette ran across the street to the safety of her family’s bakery. 

“Marinette?” Her mother looked at her with concern. “What are you doing home so soon?” 

“There was an attack at school! Some stone monster took Mylene and Chloe!” She raced up the stairs two at a time, stopping only when she reached her bedroom. She flung herself into her pink desk chair, frantically pulling up the news on her computer. 

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news.” Nadja Chamack started in her standard news anchor voice. “Paris is under attack by a supervillain. Stoneheart has taken two students from Collège Françoise-Dupont hostage and is now believed to be en route to the Eiffel Tower. Citizens should seek cover immediately.” 

Marinette watched in horror. How could there be a supervillain? Who was doing this, and why did she feel so powerless? She tore her eyes away from the screen. She couldn’t stand to watch this happen and do nothing to stop it. 

With her attention averted, Marinette noticed a small octagonal box sitting before her. Had it been there this morning? She opened it, momentarily distracted from the calamity occurring outside the walls of her small bedroom. A bright pink flash of light emitted from the box, blinding Marinette briefly. When the black spots cleared from her vision, she saw a pair of ladybug patterned earrings inside. Who put these in here? Perhaps it was a gift from her parents for starting school? She removed them and carefully put them on. 

Hello, Marinette, said a voice. 

She whipped her head so fast that she fell out of her seat. There was no one in the room with her. Maybe she just imagined it…

You didn’t imagine it, Marinette, the voice spoke again. Great. There were supervillains in Paris, and she was hearing voices; she was officially losing it. You’re not going crazy. I am your Kwami Consciousness—kwami for short—but you can call me Tikki. You are the only one who can stop Stoneheart. 

“What is happening?” Marinette asked out loud. She sat still on her floor, unable to process the arrival of a second consciousness in her head. 

Paris needs you. The earrings you are wearing are called the Ladybug Miraculous. They are magical jewels that will turn you into a superhero. 

“Me? A superhero? That’s gotta be a mistake. I-I'm only fourteen. And I’m clumsy, like really clumsy.” Marinette sputtered at the absurd notion. Surely there was someone else in Paris that was better qualified for the job than her. 

The fact that you can hear me is proof that it was not a mistake. Not anyone can use the jewels. The holder must fit the traits of the Miraculous. The Ladybug Miraculous requires creativity, bravery, and pure intentions, all of which I can sense in you. Marinette reddened at the endorsement from the disembodied voice. 

If you were not meant to have the Miraculous, you would not be able to hear me. Kwamis like me are connected to the jewels and their holders. It allows me to communicate with you and provide guidance. 

“There are others? Other Miraculous and other superheroes?” Marinette tried not to think about how crazy she would seem if either of her parents walked in on her talking to herself. If Tikki could read her thoughts, she didn’t want to accidentally offend it. 

Yes, there are other Miraculous. Some have been missing for centuries. One of which, the Butterfly, has found a new holder; one that is abusing the Miraculous’s powers. The Butterfly Miraculous allows its holder to give superpowers to someone, but they are corrupted by negative emotions, turning them into villains. It’s up to you to find the holder of the Butterfly Miraculous and stop them.

Marinette stood up slowly and paced around her room. How was she going to be able to defeat a supervillain? Was she really cut out for this? The news coverage was still playing on her computer. She paused, watching the stone creature barrel down the Trocadéro. Wasn’t this what she had been waiting for? A chance to help? Marinette knew that she would never be able to sit on the sidelines when other needed help. Even if she failed, even if she was the worst superhero possible, she still had to try. 

“Tikki, what do I have to do?” 

Marinette couldn’t waste any more time. After the voice in her head explained her powers, she was off, traversing over rooftops to reach the Eiffel Tower. The wind stung her face, the only part left exposed by her magically impenetrable suit, as she ran faster than she ever thought possible. Fight the monster, break the object, capture the akuma, fix the damage. Marinette repeated her objectives to herself, hoping that the repetition will keep her focused during the fight. 

“Hey! Watch out!” Marinette barreled into someone. She had to pay more attention to her surroundings. What kind of superhero ran directly into someone? Wait—who else was on a rooftop during a supervillain attack? She pushed away from him and grabbed her…yo-yo? How was she supposed to defend herself with a yo-yo? She twirled it, finding that it made a steady shield, and looked up at the person she crashed into. Her yo-yo shield quivered, momentarily stunned by the boy in front of her. He wore a black leather supersuit, similar to her own. A mask covered his bright green eyes and faux cat ears adorned his fair hair. He was beautiful, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. 

“Who are you?” Marinette demanded, refocusing. If he had a suit like hers, he must have a Miraculous. He didn’t look like a butterfly though…

“I’m, uh,” The boy paused, a finger lifted to his chin in contemplation. “Chat Noir. Yeah, Chat Noir.” He said with an easy confidence Marinette hoped to possess one day. “I’m guessing you’re the partner my Kwami told me about.” 

“My Kwami didn’t say anything about a partner.” Marinette held her yo-yo shield steady. 

“It probably didn’t know. The Black Cat Miraculous is an heirloom. It passed down through my family for generations, but I was the only one who connected with it. My Kwami told me that the Miraculous had been missing for centuries before it found its way to my family.”

“If you knew it was missing, why didn’t you return it?” She asked, warily. He opened his mouth to speak but the ground shook from below. Marinette stopped swirling her yo-yo to keep her balance. 

“No time to explain!” Chat Noir yelled as he grabbed a silver baton and extended it. “We have to stop Stoneheart. Come on, er, bug girl!” He vaulted over the rooftops, leaving Marinette alone. She didn’t know if she could trust him, but she couldn’t leave it up to him. 

She dropped down next to Chat Noir on the dais of the Trocadéro. Stoneheart was climbing the Eiffel Tower with Myléne and Chloé still clutched in his hands. She caught Chat Noir’s eye and could tell that they were on the same page; whatever confusion they had over their new powers and their supposed partnership, it would have to wait until after Stoneheart was apprehended. With a slight nod, they leapt into action, crossing the distance in a matter of seconds. 

Stoneheart had reached the first platform of the tower. In the background, Marinette could hear Mayor Bourgeois demand the return of his daughter, Chloé. In the deep bellow of a voice she recognized, Stoneheart cried out, “Fine! You can have her,” before throwing Chloe off the building. 

“Ivan,” Marinette whispered, horrified that the quiet and gentle boy she’s known for years could do something so terrible. Marinette sprinted towards Chloé’s falling body and caught her seconds before the impact. Saving Chloé’s life—the worst person she knew—was definitely not how Marinette expected her day to go. She released Chloé, who sprinted into the safety of her father’s arms. Whispers of “superheroes,” and “save us,” passed through the crowd that watched her and Chat Noir intently. Returning to Chat Noir at the base of the tower, Marinette tried to think of a plan. Fight the monster, break the object, capture the akuma, fix the damage. 

“Do you know him?” Chat Noir asked, catching Marinette off guard. 

“What?” 

“Stoneheart. You called him Ivan. Do you know him?” 

Marinette realized her mistake too late. Tikki had stressed the importance of keeping her identity a secret. “No, of course not.” She lied. “I heard his name on the news.” If Chat Noir suspected she was untruthful, he didn’t let it show. Instead, the two chased after Stoneheart as he climbed higher. Chat Noir used his stick and Marinette utilized her yo-yo as a grappling hook, hoisting her into the air. 

They landed on the viewing deck as Stoneheart let out another monstrous growl. Swarms of purple butterflies escaped from his mouth forming a head. It began to speak, though Marinette could tell it was no longer Ivan’s voice. This voice was cold, apathetic, and it frightened Marinette. “Citizens of Paris! I am Hawkmoth. These are not your saviors; they are children! And they will give me their Miraculous. Relinquish the Ladybug earrings and Cat ring to me!” 

Marinette’s grip on her yo-yo tightened. She may have only been a superhero for half an hour—she didn’t even think she wanted to be a superhero—but she would not give it up to a bully.  She was afraid, but not so afraid that she couldn’t be brave for Paris. “Nice try, Hawkmoth. We aren’t going to be dissuaded that easily. We will find you and we will take your Miraculous!” She threw her yo-yo at the gathered butterflies, capturing them in one fell swoop. She turned to Chat Noir, who she caught watching her with his mouth agape. He gave her a dazzling grin. A smile like that could make her forget her own name. A scream brought Marinette’s attention back to Stoneheart and Myléne. 

Priorities, Marinette. Fight the monster, break the object, capture the akuma, fix the damage.  “Chat Noir, let’s go!” Together, they raced up the tower. The duo communicated silently, as if they were already attuned to each other’s thoughts and movements, attacking Stoneheart. 

“Lucky Charm!” Marinette called out her superpowers and caught a strangely colored parachute. She stood for a moment, contemplating her next move, when she saw the solution. Chat Noir followed her lead as they freed Myléne and the crumpled paper holding the akuma from Stoneheart’s grasp. Chat Noir batted the object to Marinette. She crushed it, releasing the akuma. Fight the monster, break the object—

Marinette’s mental checklist was interrupted by the bloodcurdling screams of her two classmates falling off the top of the Eiffel Tower. Without hesitation, she jumped off the tower. “Chat Noir! Get Ivan!” She pulled her limbs tight against herself to accelerate her velocity. 

“Don’t forget the akuma!” Chat Noir called over the nearly deafening sound of wind as she sped towards Mylene. The akuma! She had forgotten to purify the akuma. Marinette latched onto Myléne and threw her yo-yo with all her force. She only had a few more moments before they would hit the ground. 

“Gotcha!” Marinette yelled, when the akuma disappeared into her weapon. She pulled the tab  of the parachute and careened into the sky as wind picked up the fabric. It took all her strength—even her enhanced super strength—to hold onto Myléne as their combined weight fell to the ground. They landed, not so gracefully, underneath the landmark, relieved to have survived. Chat Noir and Ivan were landing close by. 

Marinette released the purified butterfly, it’s white wings dreamlike in the September sun. Only one task left. She threw the parachute into the sky and watched in amazement as the swarm of magical ladybugs flew around the city repairing the damage caused by Stoneheart. 

It was a miracle. It was something she helped achieve. She turned to Chat Noir, thankful she had someone to share this experience with. “We make a good team,” She relented. 

“I knew you’d come around to me,” He winked at her and held up his a closed fist. 

“Pound it!” They said in unison, laughing quietly as they fist bumped. 

Myléne and Ivan huddled together and walked over to the pair of superheroes. “Thank you for saving us, miss—uh,” Ivan’s sentence dropped off, unsure of how to address the superheroes. 

“Ladybug. Call me Ladybug.” Her hands rested on her waist, hoping she portrayed the same confidence as Chat Noir earlier. “And this is Chat Noir. My partner.” She smiled at the boy next to her. There was something about him that made her want to trust him. He had faith in her immediately, following her lead in the battle, and even kept her from making a huge blunder. 

Chat Noir pulled her hand from her waist and knelt. He kissed her hand and looked up at her through thick lashes. “Ladybug,” he whispered her name, softly. His intense stare made Ladybug feel like the world had melted away, leaving only them alone in the city of love. She may have superpowers, but she was not immune to the affects of a handsome boy paying special attention to her. 

Her earrings blinked, losing one of the ladybug spots. Her hand left his and reached for the earrings. “I have to go, uh, goodbye Chat Noir.” She blushed as she backed away, their eyes still locked on each other’s; she couldn’t break away from his gaze. 

“Until next time, My Lady,” he said with a bow and one last wink, before he extended his stick and left. Ladybug watched him vault over the Parisian skyline, absentmindedly reaching for her yo-yo, before making her own exit. 

That night, from the safety of her bedroom, Tikki warned Marinette to be cautious of Chat Noir. The Ladybug and Black Cat had been partners, a duo more powerful than the other Miraculous, but that was before the Cat had been lost. If the guardian did not give him the Miraculous, they could not be certain about his intentions. 

If only Marinette had listened. If she heeded Tikki’s advice, perhaps the events of the past two years could have been avoided. Perhaps Marinette’s heart would have never been broken. They had made a good team—as the Black Cat and Ladybug always have—but their compatibility meant nothing when everything had been a lie. 

The bell rang, snapping Marinette out of her reverie. She gathered her books together and said goodbye to her friends. The first day of school was over. She was certain her life was going to change, as it had the past two years. 

This was going to be the year she defeated Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. She knew it. 

A/N: Read the rest on ao3

[artxyra]

When It Rains, It Pours | One-Shot

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a name that hasn’t said in the halls of Dupont for years. A name that there graduating class of 20XX so much pain and guilt. 

It’s judgement day. 

The former students stand proud in the crowd of other graduates as their ten-year high school reunion starts. The majority of the people are excitedly chatting it up to those they haven’t seen in years. However, there is one group of alumni that stands out: former teacher Caline Bustier’s class. 

Let’s start with Alya Cesaire nee Lahiffe, a stay-at-home mom with a running self-help blog. 

With all the blog post that consisted of Lila Rossi, a woman she loathes to the bottom of her heart, her chances of being a famous reporter died when entered her first journalism class at her University. It was a day that she’ll never forget, the day when her entire life’s work became the laughing stock and the perfect example of what not to do. She ended up dropping out of the class and registering herself as undecided. Not even a year later is when she fell pregnant with her first child out of four with Nino. The embarrassment of a pregnancy in college and her stubbornness to prove herself that she can make a successful blog changed her to become a stay-at-mom and write down all that she has experienced. 

Nino Lahiffe loves and supports his wife despite the ups and downs they went through after the invasion of Lila Rossi. He lost contact with his childhood best friend only to be replaced by Claude Mime, a famous filmmaker who is currently located on the other side of the courtyard. Due to Lila’s fake promises of getting to meet famous filmmakers and artists, he lost opportunities to make connections in the U.S. Still Nino went to school for music production and was able to start a music production company here in Paris after the birth of his second child. 

“Hey Nino,” Adrien Agreste greets his former best friend after seven years of no contact. “I didn’t think you would be here.” 

Nino, along with Alya, turns to Adrien. The glares on their faces fade seeing how much the blonde model has changed. 

Adrien Agreste, the former face of the Agreste brand, turned into a physic teacher and a comedian on the side. After the reveal that his father was Hawkmoth, Paris’ notorious villain, he wanted nothing to do with the Agreste brand or its name. He even tried to take on his mother’s maiden name but after the fallout with his aunt and cousin, he decided against it. Currently, the blonde is happily married but no one knows who that person is. 

“Agreste,” Nino greets back. 

“How are the kids, I watch your videos Alya.” It was a sad attempt to start a conversation. 

Alya curtly nods, “Adrien, it’s good to see you. The kids are great.” 

It didn’t take Alya long to move away from the conversation by finding a distraction with the punch bowl. 

Thankfully for Alya, she sees Alix, Juleka, and Rose standing over there with no indication that they’re planning on moving. 

Alix Kubdel tried to become a high-class skater, but her dreams fell through when she accidentally twisted her ankle during a big race that would have lead to some big sponsors. She did leave Paris and travel as her back up plan. 

For Rose and Juleka, after Kitty Selection broke up, they went their separate ways for a couple of years. Rose was under Lila’s influence longer than Juleka due to her lack of mind to communicate with Prince Ali (now King) until it was too late. Juleka became a model for the Paris division of the famous designer NETTA. It was just four years ago that the two came back into contact with one another. 

“Hey gurls, it great to see you guys again,” Alya speaks walking closer to the small group of women. 

“Hey Alya, motherhood has gone you well,” Alix speaks as she passed a freshly made cup over to the mother. 

“Thank you, it wasn’t at first but now I wouldn’t change it for the world.” She replies taking the cup into her hands. 

“Has anyone heard from Marinette?” It was Juleka that broke the peace. 

With the mention of the one student that didn’t walk with them during graduation, all conversation ceases to exist. People turn to one another wondering the same thing. It wasn’t long before they started looking around for the familiar blue hair upcoming designer. 

“Jules, didn’t Luka say that Marinette would come to the reunion?” Rose asks looking at her girlfriend with confusion written across her face. Juleka shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. 

Alya finds interest in her cup as she hardly looks up from it. A daze look brush across her eyes as she remembers the messages, those cruel messages. It was no wonder Marinette returned her calls and pleas when she found out the truth about Lila.

“I hope she shows up.” It was a whisper on her lips, but the underwhelming undertone of grief stood there. 

“I’m sure she will,” Alix reassures. 

 The reunion continues as is planned that is until the arrival of the one person everyone wanted to see. 

It was Max, that spotted the blue-haired designer first. Since graduating, getting a job in technology was a struggle. Somehow, people had gotten word of how he thought a napkin could do damage to the eye. So when all the offers were rejected, he spoke to his mother and was able to run a self-employed IT job with the help of Markov 2.0 and his supporters. Surprisingly, leaving Paris in favor of England was the best decision he has ever made. 

“Marinette is that you?” He asks the mysterious woman. 

Of course, it was Marinette; however, this Marinette is different. She wore black dress pants with a floral halter top. Her hair is much shorter, there was no chance to really style it. Marinette had a ladybug tattoo on her wrist abled with a date underneath. 

“Hi Max, how’s life going?” She asks with that infamous kind smile. 

Suddenly everyone turns to the two with a mixture of emotions. Those who hang out with Marinette after the Lila incident walks over to smiles on their faces while those who had forgone the woman stares in shock. 

“Marinette thank the lord that you’re here…” It was Aurore that took control of the conversation. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a woman of many secret finally came back to the center of where her life truly began. A little over ten years ago when the Lilia situation was at its peak, Marinette left for a week to herself. She came back, reborn. Cutting the ties with Mlle. Bustier class and working on herself, she started up an online business. It started off small but by being endorse by Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, her business took off. By the time her final year of lycee began she had her first storefront open and a name for herself under NETTA. 

“How’s the baby?” It was a question thrown for a loop. Everyone waited for an answer. 

“He’s fine, in fact, he’s started crawling recently,” Marinette answers with a bright smile on her face. 

Everyone gushes over the thought of seeing Marinette’s son trying to crawl. 

Several minutes past before Alya managed to find the courage to speak to the bluenette. 

“Marinette?” She asks walking over to the designer with a look of determination and backed by their former classmates. Alya takes Nino’s hand into her own. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t believe you about Lila. I thought--”

“I figured as much when my phone began to blow up with messages from all of you.” Marinette interrupts. 

“Is there any way we can work this out, maybe get caught up on life?” Alya’s determined to rekindle her lost friendship. 

“I-I don’t know, Alya. You and the rest of the class really hurt me, broke my trust in you.” 

They all look down. It was a painful reminder that trust is the foundation of any friendship. 

“However, I’m willing to give you all a chance. Don’t waste it.” With that Marinette walks away leaving the group in a mist of hope.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Bless The Broken Road | Woodland Demars

Warnings? broken past, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a hospital trip, little bit of angst 

Requested? Yes indeed! I’m sorry it took so long! 

Summary: You had been set out on a narrow path to hopefully find your one true love for years now. However, after an ex makes it so you don’t want to live in your hometown anymore, you move to LA where you meet Woods. And he helps you pick up the pieces. 

Word Count: 2,078

“Are you ready to go?” Woods asks and you look over your outfit once more. He comes up behind you in the mirror and wraps his arms around your waist. You smile and lean your head against his. 

“You look, marvelous darling,” he says and your smile widens. “Are you nervous?” 

“Very, but it’s gonna be fine.” 

“They’re gonna love you.” 

Today you were meeting the rest of Woods' coworkers and awaiting a big surprise from him. You had met most of the Hi5 crew previously through visits to the studio and hangouts with them and Woods, but not everyone. Woods wanted to take this party as an opportunity for you to meet his work family. Naturally, you were scared they wouldn’t like you all that much. 

You had met Woods three years ago when you moved to LA. Sam was actually your childhood best friend and she had been talking about LA and Hi5 for ages now. She knew about your situation back home and offered for you to move in with her. After settling in a bit, you two met one night when she and a few more Hi5 people were hanging out at the apartment. 

You had just gotten home from a shift at the library you were working at at the time and honestly you were exhausted. You found Woods sitting in your living room at home and instantly became a little worried. 

“Hi!” He greeted and when you still gave him a confused look he remembered that he’s the stranger in your home and not the other way around. 

“Oh yeah! I’m Woods. I'm one of Sam’s friends from work,” he continued before standing and walking over to shake your hand. 

“I’m (y/n),” you said and he awkwardly smiled and walked back over to the couch. 

You were intrigued by him from the start but you never really knew why. That night you said a couple of more words towards the older boy but your past kept up with you and you couldn’t do much to keep the thoughts away. 

One of the main reasons you moved from home was to escape your past. Everything that happened there felt like it lurked around every corner and being surrounded by that constantly did a number on you every day. When you moved, as cheesy as it was, everything was new and it helped. 

Back home you went through a series of rough breakups and tough family problems that eventually would take a toll on you. The worst was Jacob. 

You two were madly in love for months. You spent every second possible with Jacob and thought he loved you just as much in return. Until things started changing. He'd make comments on your weight, ask you to change clothes if he didn't like the outfit, keep you away from friends. The list went on and on and on.

You tried to convince yourself that he did it out of love. That he wanted what was best for you but you couldn't see the issue. However, one night you came home from work a little late after consoling a friend and Jacob snapped.

You fought for what felt like hours, Jacob accused you of cheating and plotting against him. You stepped towards him and with one shove you were sent tumbling along with a glass vase that would end up slicing your hands and the side of your face so deep you had to go to the hospital. Jacob was left behind from that day on.

While the physical wounds healed in a couple of weeks, to this day you were still recovering emotionally. You stayed in your hometown for as long as you could bear but it quickly became too much. You knew that moving was the right choice and it had been for a long time now.

Moving to LA would eventually help you start to refocus on yourself and get back on track as you healed. Therapy, your new friends, and a new job all helped tremendously with that. Woods was a blessing through it all. 

After that first night, Woods was around a lot more. He’d come to visit Sam or you’d seen him for a friends night out. You tried to talk to him for a bit but it never worked as your anxiety often got the best of you, until one night after your shift at work.

You loved your job at the library but after this shift you had spent the day dealing with a couple of frustrating parents, getting snapped at by your boss for not getting all of your work done, and overall frustration at the mistreatment of beautiful novels.

Woods was sitting just where you found him the night you met when you walked into the apartment. At this time, you had become comfortable enough to collapse onto the couch near him and relax until you got enough motivation to get up and change.

“You okay?” He asked when you looked like you practically could cry the minute you sat down. 

“Yes,” you responded instantly, as your instincts told you too. However, a steady stream of tears betrayed your words and made their way down your cheeks.

“Okay no. I’m sorry,” you apologize. You’ve always hated other people seeing you cry even when it was your family. It was something built into you and while it certainly wasn’t your best trait you couldn’t help it.

As more tears rolled down your face you tried to frantically wipe them away as you apologized through a thick voice.

“It’s okay,” He said coming over and taking your hands from your face. You’re shocked by the action and everything in you ceases for a moment.

“Bad day at work?” He asked slowly letting go of your hands and you find yourself wishing he didn’t.

“Yes, very. I’m sorry it was all just building up and so many things went wrong today and I-” 

“(y/n) it’s okay,” he reassures you once more before placing his hand over yours and rubbing circles on the back of your thumb. 

You both sat up talking for a while, you explained the events of what felt like a nightmare day from the worst of your imagination and he told you about his day and how it actually wasn’t too bad. The conversation developed and before you knew it you were both just talking. Talking about nothing and everything and about if aliens are real and why the sky is blue and where we came from and why we are the person we are today. 

It was the best conversation you had had in a while. 

Every time after Woods would come to the house, you and he would end up in a long conversation. It was always easy going and started off about something and you never know where or how you got to the next topic but you did and it just flowed. 

And one day, he ended up asking you out. You were beyond nervous at first, expecting things to change or to even end up like things between you and Jacob had but it was the same just in fancier clothes and with food. Everything with Woods was easy. He made you feel free and easy. He was safe and comfortable. 

He was there when you still fought with nightmares about Jacob and those insecurities. 

You had decided to spend the night at Woods house as you had stayed much later than you expected and he didn’t want you driving so late at night alone. You woke up in a cold sweat from a horrendous nightmare about Jacob finding you here in LA and ruining the happiness you found. 

You rose from Woods bed and carefully tiptoed out into the kitchen to grab something to drink before settling into the familiar couch cushions. Your eyes wandered around the room to try and focus on something else instead of the nightmare but you couldn’t help it. 

“(y/n)?” Woods called quietly as he entered the living room and you looked up to him standing in the doorway. You smiled at him half-heartedly and he met you on the couch, wrapping you up in his arm instantly. 

“What’s wrong my darling?” 

“Just a bad nightmare is all,” You insisted but he only half-believed you. 

“Like a Jacob nightmare?” He asked. One of the nights you spent talking, you had told him the reason, the real reason, why you moved here. He had been a light through it all. 

You nodded and he pulled you even closer till you were sitting in his lap. He reached a hand up to push your hair back behind your ears before leaning and pressing a kiss to your nose and then one to your lips. When he leaned back to look at you he searched your eyes for some kind of answer. 

“I just wish I was able to give that time to you my dear,” You admit and he smiles that smile that reminds you that he already knew that. He knows you inside and out and that everything is okay. 

“I know. But we’re here now and that’s all that matters.” 

You look across the car at that man now, the one who loved all of your broken pieces till you picked them back up and you’re thankful. You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to the back of it and Woods smiles widely at you. 

“We’re here,” he announces when we pull into the studio parking lot. He turns off the car and runs around to open your door and extends a hand to you. 

You take it and together the two of you walk into the warehouse together where everyone is waiting. With Woods by your side, you quickly realize your nerves have fallen away. At the end of the day, all that matters was you and him. 

After making your rounds and meeting everyone in the studio you hadn’t met before, you take your seats as Domarina begins to speak. Woods takes your hand in his underneath the table and squeezes it lightly, a silent communication between the two of you. 

“And now our very own Woodland Demars has a few words he wants to say,” she says and gestures to your boyfriend. You look over to him as he stands and offers you a wink in which you give him a confused smile. 

“Hey guys, as you know my lovely girlfriend (y/n) has joined us tonight,” he says pointing to you and you wave shyly.  “And I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to talk about her for a bit so darling can you come here?” 

You make your way up to the makeshift stage with suspicion running through your mind. Woods is practically beaming at you when you reach him and he takes your hand and faces you as he continues talking. 

“(y/n) always likes to say that I am her true love and over the course of every long lost dream, and broken heart, it was a northern star pointing to me,” he continues practically reciting the two of yours song God Bless The Broken Road by Rascall Flatts. 

“And while the road to finding each other hasn’t been easy, I thank God every day for blessing it because I found you, my love,” he says now talking directly to you. 

At this point he’s let go of your hand and he reaches into his pocket and your mind is going a million miles an hour. You freeze as he slowly moves so he’s kneeling down in front of you and you’re rendered speechless as he keeps talking. 

“You’re the light of my life and I’m so thankful that I met you on this broken road. And I want you here for the rest of my life. I love you so much and I want to ask if you would do me the honor of marrying me?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

Woods stands and you dive straight into his arms as he wraps his around your waist tightly. You lean back only for a second to meet in a chaste kiss. When he lets go he slips the most beautiful but simple ring on your finger and you feel like you’re floating on air. 

“I will love you to the end of time,” he says pressing another kiss to your lips.

[cyclone-rachel]

you and me and atmosphere

a Supergirl fanfic

(post-Crisis, rating: G, word count: 2,000, pairing: Kara x present day Kenny Li although it’s pretty much completely platonic)

read on AO3 here

~

The stars looked different.

Kara didn’t notice immediately, as they were among the city lights and there wasn’t immediately time for her to look at the night sky clearly, but on one clear night, she did, and the realization refused to leave her alone.

She couldn’t yet examine what she recognized and what could have only been doppelganger stars from different universes, meeting in the same constellations and multiplying across the galaxy.

And that was just the stars- there was no way of knowing what planets were different from those she grew up learning the names of, studying alongside her aunt Astra no matter how much her mother disapproved as Astra brought her other ideals along with her during those visits.

She didn’t even know which ones had survived, and which still left vacant space in locations where life had once thrived, how many people on planets that once were who found themselves living different lives, with different families.

How many more people that had once lived on many planets, in many different universes, who now ceased to exist at all.

(The one exception- Argo. She had to know that it still lived, and when she and Brainy repaired the communication device that transmitted a signal back and forth there, hearing her mother’s voice answering her brought a wave of relief that overcame her as quickly as the tears that fell down her face)

Her first priority, however, on a night where she didn’t have to deal with Lex Luthor or other post-Crisis anomalies, was to find out for herself- just as she had when she first experienced such a disorientation after leaving Krypton, looking up at the stars above Midvale… first with Eliza and Jeremiah, then Alex, then a trusted friend. And now, on Earth Prime, she felt a need to do so again.

And so her search led her to an observatory located in one of the National City museums.

~

SPECTACLE OF THE STARS, the banner read, and Kara smiled as she looked up at it, before entering the area herself. It was close to the Krypton exhibit that she’d gotten to help with- and helped ruin, regrettably, even though that was more the fault of J’onn’s brother (she certainly hadn’t asked him to turn into a dinosaur- or for him to take Kara’s pod as a method of escape)- and before she got closer to the observatory, she lost herself a little bit in looking around there, seeing children look at everything that symbolized her journey so far, the last remaining pieces of the world she’d lost.

It was more comforting, certainly, than seeing them worship her- taking in everything with childlike wonder, admiring her accomplishments and learning her story but that inspiring them instead of throwing themselves in her path for her to save them. There was a kiosk, there, with a table that held a box of pencils and blank pieces of paper, as well as a large bottle full of those slips of paper, next to a cardboard cutout of herself, and a sign that read “How can you be a Supergirl (or Superman) to others?”.

As she watched, she saw a little girl and her mother both write things down and put them in the bottle, and she smiled. Nobody knew who she really was, here. Nobody was aware that behind Kara Danvers’s glasses was Kara Zor-El, their Supergirl, the Paragon of Hope who had helped make sure they had an Earth to live on. She and the others had brought the universe back, and as much in it as they could… but she was going to find out how much soon, after the crowd of kids around the museum’s astronomer dissipated.

~

“You’re in luck, you’re the last person who got here before my lunch break.” Says the astronomer.

Kara adjusts the bag she’s carrying on her shoulder, trying to be casual.

“Well, far be it from me to get between anyone and food.” She says. “I can… take a look myself, it’s okay.”

“Nope, that’s against the rules, I have to give my spiel to everyone.” He answers. “So, how much do you know about astronomy?”

A lot more than anyone would think.

“I learned the basics in middle and high school.” She says instead, casually, before looking up at the telescope, and the equipment attached to it. “How does this work, exactly?”

He smiles, and she moves aside so he can show her.

“Actually, I started out making a prototype of this myself.” He says. “And when I started working here, I got to design this version- basically the same technology, but on a larger scale and with a bigger budget. Without bogging you down in all the specifics, this screen-“ he gestures to it, with a constellation already visible- “captures what the telescope sees, in photographs that can even be downloaded on one’s laptop.”

If Kara hadn’t been feeling déjà vu before, she would be now, as the astronomer continues.

“Somewhere, past all that darkness, there are whole other worlds.” He says. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah…” she answers. “Like the one Supergirl and Superman used to live on.”

“Exactly.”

“Can your telescope see any of them?”

The astronomer gives her a sad smile, shakes his head.

“Not yet, but I’m working on it.” He says. “Someday.”

“Well, good luck.” Kara answers, knowing that whatever answers she was looking for regarding those planets would have to wait until she got a way to travel into deep space herself. Maybe she could borrow Brainy’s Legion cruiser, now that she knows he has his own- or maybe they could go together, her and Brainy, and J’onn- and Alex too of course, and Nia. Her whole team of super-friends, traveling through galaxies, getting to see the worlds they saved.

From that perspective, it did sound like a miracle, instead of the tragedy that still sometimes consumes her nightmares.

She’s so lost in thought, considering it, that she misses the astronomer’s next question.

“What did you say?”

“Do you want me to show you something I found?” he asks. “You’d be surprised what this thing sees.”

Kara nods, and he moves the telescope until he finds it- one specific comet, orbiting the Sun.

“That’s so cool.” She says, taking a look at it herself, first through the telescope and then displayed as a still image on the screen.

“Yeah.” He answers. “It’s… well, after coming up with all of this, it’s my new pride and joy. I even got to name it.”

“Really?”

The astronomer nods.

“It’s true. I, um… I decided to call it Kara- after a friend of mine, who encouraged me in all of this back when we were in high school together. She was the strongest girl I knew- and I couldn’t think of any better way to thank her. Not sure where she ended up, but… if I ever meet her again, I want to show this to her, and tell her how much that meant to me.”

You already did, Kara thinks.

“That’s… great.” She says. “Seriously, congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Kara adjusts her glasses, before moving forward.

“Sorry, I’m- I was rude, I just… realized I forgot to ask you what your name is.”

“No problem at all.” He answers. “Kenny Li.”

I knew it.

She might not have known for certain at the beginning, but… this was definitely him. Had he never been dead, in a post-Crisis world? Or was this a version from another universe?

Would she have to ask J’onn to give him his memories back, show him what had happened to himself on her Earth? Could she do that to him, seeing him so happy, and proud of his accomplishments?

In any case, she hadn’t seen him in over twelve years, and certainly wasn’t familiar with this adult version of him, so for now she was going to move forward slowly.

“What’s your name?”

She almost doesn’t want to say. She considers giving him Linda Lee, the name Red Daughter used… but in the end, she wants to be honest with him, in a world where she gets a second chance to be.

“Kara.” She finally answers, looking around before taking off her glasses, watching his face light up. “Kara Danvers.”

“Oh my god.” He says. “The Kara Danvers? From Midvale?”

“The one and only.” She answers, and he hugs her, just for a moment.

“Sorry.” He says afterward, regaining his composure. “It’s not every day that…”

“You get to see an old friend, after years apart?” Kara finishes. “I feel the same way. It’s really nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Kenny says, hands in the pockets of his jacket, before pressing something into her hand. “I have a business card. If you wanted to talk, maybe catch up when you have the time-“

“I would love that.” Kara answers, accepting the card. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Kara Danvers.” He tells her, as she puts her glasses back on, professionalism returning before he puts up a sign telling people he’s on a break. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Kenny Li.”

She realized, as she walked away, that she hadn't really gotten an in-depth look at the stars, or the specifics of how they had changed. But as much as she had wanted to know those things, and got to know them when she was younger, there were other ways she could discover them, and after this certainly other opportunities to explore such changes. What she'd gotten today was something she hadn't even considered, another positive change in addition to those that her friends had already identified, and even experienced for themselves in the month since the Crisis had ended.

And that, for the moment, might have been worth more than any changing pattern in the stars.

"Alex?" Kara asked once she'd left the museum, over the phone. "You're never going to guess who I ran into today..."

~

Kara was familiar with the meaning of “star-crossed”. She’d first encountered the phrase in ninth grade English class, and earned some odd looks when she pointed out that stars couldn’t literally cross- but she’d excused herself, saying that that was theoretical, and Alex had called her a nerd. She later learned that it was a mere metaphor, and had nothing to do with real stars, that it meant fate had doomed whoever was unlucky enough to have that title, and it was most often associated with lovers.

For a long time, Kara thought her own life was star-crossed- that she was fated to lose her planet, lose her opportunity to pass the knowledge of her home to her cousin and raise him as the last son of Krypton he ought to be. Fated to become trapped in an endless, lonely void forever, until she was pulled free with the sins of her mother’s past. Fated to lose many others- from both of her best friends to, for a moment, her cousin and the love of his life, as well as her mother and the part of Krypton that she’d just gotten back. Fated to lose someone she cared about and had come to love, when she’d grown up hating his people, in a way similar to how she had been lost.

(That one especially hurt, months later, when she’d come across his copy of Romeo and Juliet, meaning he too was familiar with the concept… yet he had only highlighted parts that he’d read while thinking of her)

Fated, ten years before- before solving a mystery that had led her and Alex to becoming a truly united pair, to really feeling like sisters after a few years of being awkward around each other at best and loathing each other at worst- to lose her first real friend, the keeper of secrets who hadn’t even realized how much keeping such a secret meant to her.

It was only fitting, then, that Kara and Kenny were brought back together by the stars themselves, and this time, they were aligned in their favor.

[cerezsis]

One Step Forward

Chipped AU

Summary: Months have passed since the narrowly avoided attack on Homeworld, but White is still struggling to regain Blue and Yellow’s trust.

--

           The ballroom radiated with a liveliness like it never knew before. Gems of all types mingled and danced under the sparkling lights; the previously choreographed dances gone and done away with. Music and chatter mixed in the most delightful way, encouraging even the diamonds to engage in the festivities.

           Well, most of the diamonds. Gray sat, stiff and stoic, on her newly made throne, gripping the armrests so hard her fingers were leaving cracks and crevasses. It had been three months since her return to Homeworld, and crowds were among the many things she was still struggling to get used to. She refused to so much as meet anyone’s gaze, much to the relief of most of the gems in attendance.

           A sudden feeling of a hand touching her own caused Gray to jump. White frowned, apologetically, and drew her hand back. Seeing her mother, Gray relaxed slightly.

           “I didn’t mean to startle you, Moonrise. How are you-”

           She was cut off by Gray’s hasty retrieval of her writing tablet from between her thigh and the armrest.

           Can I please go to my room now?

           White, trying to ease Gray’s anxious aura, gave her a small, comforting grin. “Yes, you’ve stayed long enough.”

           Feeling an instant relief wash over her body, Gray quickly stepped off her levitating throne, so eager to leave, she chose not to acknowledge the rippling pain that was now traveling through her thigh and down her leg.

           As White escorted Gray out of the ballroom, they passed by Yellow and Blue. White made eye contact with them, but they continued to chat as if they didn’t see her. The elder diamond was used to the cold shoulder by now, but she still sighed internally. They’d been this way ever since Gray returned home, only speaking to her when necessary, and nothing beyond that. She had hoped they would’ve gotten over this jealously thing by now, but it was becoming more and more apparent they weren’t going to let it go any time soon. As much as she tried not to dwell on it, White couldn’t help but feel she’d taken one step forward and two steps back; in gaining the love of one diamond, distance had been placed between herself and two others.

           “You did very well tonight,” White said as they walked through the halls, trying to get her mind off Blue and Yellow.

           Gray paused to write something down.

           I felt like I was going to shatter the whole time. Too many gems.

           “I stand by what I said. You did very well. And you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

           Were as many gems staring at me as it felt like there were?

           “Admiration from others comes with being a diamond, another thing you’ll get used to. Gems come from all over the galaxy to bask in our power, beauty, and strength.”

           Gray let out a silent laugh. Admiration? Beauty? I’ve looked in the mirror, mother. They don’t stare at me because they admire me. They stare because I’m scary.  

           “You are not scary.”

           You’re my mother, you have to say that. I know I’m not beautiful like you and the others. It’s fine, I don’t care, but

           Her writing was cut off by a bolt of pain traveling through her left arm, causing her grip to cease. The tablet hit the ground and Gray held her arm, as if her grip would be enough to stop the pain.

           “What happened?!” White asked, her voice slightly frantic by her daughter’s sudden distress, “Are you alright?!”

           Gray waved her off and picked up the tablet. Motioning for them to continue down the hall, they continued their journey to her room in silence. Once there, Gray sat her tablet down on her vanity and continued to write.

           It’s fine. I’ve been tense and gripping my throne for hours. I’ll be fine by morning.

           White sighed, most of her worry ceasing. “We need to get you something better than the tablet to communicate with. It won’t do you any good if you can’t hold onto it.”

           I said I’ll be fine by morning. And Yellow’s already on it. Didn’t she tell you?

           White blinked. “I… No, she didn’t. You’ve been talking with Yellow?”

           Well, yeah. She’s had her gems working on a communication device for me. It’s still in beta, but it should be complete sometime in the next two lunar cycles. It fits around my neck like a choker and has a brooch-looking device on the front that allows me to speak. Well, speak in a way. It’s a robotic voice that comes from a speaker in the brooch, but it’s the closest thing to a voice I’ve ever had.

           Gray’s good eye lit up with as much delight as she was able to express as she wrote the words out. White wanted to feel joy for her daughter, but confusion was clouding her mind.

           “That’s… wonderful. How… How long has Yellow been working on this for you?”  

           She had it started shortly after I got here. I think she got annoyed having to wait for me to finish writing every time I want to say something. I’ll admit, it’s not the best method of communication, and it doesn’t help that I’m still not fluent in modern gem glyph. Blue’s been trying to help me with that, but she’s a little… overbearing’s not the right word, but she tries to help too much, and that can get frustrating.

           White tried not to let her mouth go agape as she struggled to form words. “I… I’m glad the three of you are getting along.” She tried to hide her dismay behind a smile. “Well, I’m sure you’re tired after all the excitement. I’ll let you rest.”

           Thank you. Goodnight, mother.

           White gave Gray another smile, which immediately dropped once she left the room. Her mind was obscured with thoughts and confusion. Determined to get to the bottom of this, she made her way back to the ball. Quickly spotting Blue and Yellow, she thought for a second to confront them directly, but stopped once she remembered the coldness they’d expressed towards her the last few months. How could she figure out what was going on if they wouldn’t talk to her?

           The sound of applause suddenly filled the air. White turned to see Spinel, surrounded by a circle of gems, having just finished another juggling trick. Feeling a spark of realization, White hurried over to her.

           “Oh Spinel, may I borrow you for a moment?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

           Spinel smiled at her and stored her balls in her gem for later. “Sure!”

           White grinned and led Spinel just outside of the room. Once she was sure they were out of earshot, she got down on her knees to try to get closer to Spinel’s level.

           “Spinel, you spend a lot of time with Blue and Yellow,” she began, “Have they mentioned to you why they’re so cross with me?”

           Spinel crooked her neck. “Cross?”

           “Yes. I thought they were jealous of Gray and all the time I’ve been spending with her, but it’s come to my attention that they’ve been getting along very well with her. If it’s not about jealousy, then why are they so cold?”

           Her eyes looking off to the side, Spinel began to coyly tap her index fingers together. “White… you kept a lot of secrets from them. You lied to them about how you came into existence, and you didn’t tell them about the other diamonds that came before them. They’re upset about that, and… well… they think they don’t matter to you.”

           “What!?” White’s eyes widened. “How could they think that?”  

           “Well… They haven’t said anything directly, but I’ve heard them talking about how after Pink faked her shattering, you locked yourself away for 6000 years and refused to see them. Then when the Gray thing happened, you talked about how you couldn’t afford to love anyone as much as you did Black and Gray. I know you didn’t mean it like they think you did, but… it really hurt them, White. They think you don’t care about them.”

           White was silent, her head spinning with this new revelation.

           “They… really think that?”

           Spinel nodded, still not meeting her eye. White stared off into the distance for a while, before rising to her feet.

           “I… I’m retiring for the night,” she said, her voice much shakier than normal, “You threw a lovely ball, Spinel. Go enjoy the remainder of the evening.”

           Spinel nodded and went to rejoin the ball. White, on the other hand, headed straight for her wing of the palace. She had some thinking to do.

--

           The warp pad sprang to life in the old, crumbling kindergarten. Blue and Yellow stepped down onto the dry, lifeless dirt, none too eager for this meeting. After walking a short distance, they found her, standing with her back towards them as she faced two large exit holes.

           “We’re here, White. We got your message,” Blue said, her voice quiet as usual, but not much emotion coming through.

           “What do you need us for?” Yellow asked.

           “You know where we are, correct?” White asked, still not turning around.

           “Of course, it’s our kindergarten,” Yellow said, doing her best not to completely show that she was losing her patience, “Why are we here?”

           “I need to talk to you two, and I thought it fitting to have this discussion here and now.” Finally turning to face them, she did her best to keep her nerves out of her voice. “Today is the anniversary of the day you two emerged.”

           Blue and Yellow blinked, neither of them having the slightest clue how they were supposed to respond to that.

           “How…” Blue began, but trailed off.

           “How could you possibly remember that?” Yellow finished for her.

           “How could I forget? The day you two emerged was the happiest I’d been in eons.” She stepped closer to them, trying to hide how anxious she was. This kind of thing didn’t come easy to her, but she had to do it. “I know you two have lost much of your faith in me. Perhaps I deserve it, but I need you to understand. Even though I made you with the intention of never loving another being again, I ultimately failed. I knew that the moment I saw you.”

           Blue and Yellow were stunned into silence. Shaking, White took hold of their hands.

           “Black and Gray were my first family, but you two and Pink were that and more. When we lost Pink, it brought back a lot a lot of repressed memories. A lot of repressed feelings… I thought I could fix things if I locked myself in my head. I thought I could be a better leader, set a better example if I locked myself away. I thought I could protect myself from hurting again if a similar fate befell one of you. I couldn’t–” She cut herself off, feeling herself losing her composure. “It was a foolish endeavor, I know that now. No matter how hard you try, you can’t force yourself to stop loving someone.”

           For a split second, no one moved. No one said anything. Blue was the first to react, gently pulling her hands away and wrapping her arms around White. Yellow hesitated but followed suit, and White wrapped her arms around them both.

         There were still many things that needed to be fixed between them, that they all knew, but this was a good step forward.

[sunny-hopewell]

#2 - Helena Stinchcomb

posted by sunny hopewell on sept. 12th, 20XX

DISCLAIMER: Please note that, just by reading this, you may succumb to the very phenomenon described here. My hope is that the next people or intelligent life who read this are either themselves resilient to it, or that enough time has passed that the sheer weight of this knowledge no longer causes such a heavy impact on the reader.

This is an attempt to record the phenomenon, once referred to colloquially as “ghosting,” that has resulted in a mass decrease in the Earth’s human population. More specifically, the latest estimate (prior to the disappearance of professionals who had counted) was that only 0.002% of human life remains.

In this series of accounts, I document interviews with remaining survivors of this phenomenon. For more details on the nature of the phenomenon itself, please click here. Otherwise or afterwards, read on at your own risk.

I encountered a woman by the name of Helena Stinchcomb when I saw the fourth floor of a large office building entirely lit up. Thinking perhaps it may have been an outpost containing multiple survivors, both my mission and my curiosity led me to that floor.

I rang the fully-functional doorbell at the back entrance of the first floor. I would consider breaking in only if I received no response, but just shy of a minute later, the very articulate voice of a young woman spoke, asking how she may help me. I explained that I was hoping to ask some questions relating to her take on recent events, but expressed that I understood if she declined to speak— multiple people had already done so for me at this point. You would understand my pleasant surprise when I heard the door bolt unlock, and I was invited in. The woman told me to come on in, explaining she would need to allow me to the fourth floor with her own badge, so she would meet me just inside shortly.

The office lobby seemed unremarkable, aside from its emptiness. The lights seemed to come on as soon as I walked in— likely on a motion-sensor.

It wasn’t long before a young, dark-haired lady emerged from a door that seemed to conceal a concrete staircase. She smiled at me as though I was a visitor to her office, urging me in with an energy that was both friendly and professional. She wore a dark, pin-stripe pantsuit, and her thin, black wireframe glasses only added to her aesthetic.

She showed me upstairs, thanking me for my patience. She explained she was in a meeting until just a few minutes ago, and that the speaker system that allowed me to speak with her outside was across the office. Of course, I asked her how many people were stationed on that floor. To my own disbelief, she estimated nearly 30 folks were in-office that day. 

At this time, we entered the fourth floor’s reception area, which appeared entirely empty. She waved to the empty reception desk on her left briefly, not ceasing her conversation with me about the work they did there. She explained that she worked for a newer kind of advertising firm— when in the 2020’s, social media and technology users realized the extent to which their information was being used without their consent, such firms opened up, acting as a middleman between web users and advertisers who wanted their attention. In essence, she explained, users would come to these firms seeking to sell their web usage data to these advertisers, and the firms would act as representatives for these individuals to advertisers, who they often partnered with for competitive pricing. 

As she finished explaining this, we entered her office. She asked me to wait just a moment while she typed away— a quick message, she said, to one of her part-time work-study students, asking if she could bring the two of us some bottled water and cookies. As she finally closed her laptop, she thanked me once again for my patience and gave me her full attention. The transcript of our interview is as follows:

SH: So, tell me about yourself. What’s your name?

HS: My name is Helena Stinchcomb. I serve in senior leadership here at The People’s Information firm.

SH: It’s very nice to meet you. How has the Ghosting Phenomenon impacted you?

HS: Do you mean personally, or professionally?

SH: Oh, uh— both, provided you’re up to speaking to them.

HS: Sure, I’ll start with personally, since that’s less complex. A few people close to my circles apparently ghosted, but I’ve yet to have anyone in my innermost circles ghost, themselves.

SH: That’s fantastically fortunate, given the numbers.

HS: [laughs] Yeah, I guess you could say that. It’s hard to trust the numbers anymore, though.

SH: How do these people in your circles spend their time?

HS: [hesitating] I— you know, I’ve been so absorbed in my work lately, I really should reach out to them and ask instead of answering that at this time.

SH: Sure thing, thank you for that. Let’s talk about work, then. How has the Ghosting Phenomenon impacted workflow?

HS: Honestly, it’s mostly the same. Lots of people are hiding out in their homes, and are trying to work less at times like this. This, as you can imagine, drives their web usage way up. We’ve since fortified our model for online communications with clients so they never have to meet us in-person. This is the perfect recipe for helping them earn some money just by using the internet.

SH: Have you, personally, been able to reap any benefits as a result of your strong model’s success?

HS: Well, I’m in the process of giving everyone else in this office a sizable raise to recognize our efforts.

SH: That’s fantastic. You must be very proud of your team.

HS: Thank you, I am.

SH: How many folks did you say are in-office, today?

HS: Hmm, I’d say probably just under 30.

SH: All holed up in their office, I take it?

HS: Some of them are a little concerned with ghosting and are isolating there, yes, but not all of them.

SH: What of the others? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else here yet, today.

HS: [briefly hesitating] I haven’t seen many, but our receptionist Patricia waved to us just in the door. You must have just missed her.

SH: Ah, I see— my mistake. Maybe I’ll catch her once we’ve finished up here and apologize for that.

HS: I think you’d love her— she’s always smiling. Very sweet woman.

SH: So, enough about business— what do you do when you’re not working?

HS: [laughs] Sleeping? We keep pretty busy here, so I work long days, six days a week.

SH: So you just hang loose on your one day off?

HS: Typically, yes. I have three little ones at home— Jack is six, Joseph is seven, and Elena is twelve. They keep me busy in other ways. I’m thankful to my partner for sticking around at home to watch them.

SH: A stay at home parent, then?

HS: Yes, and I’m grateful that she is so willing and capable.

SH: I’m sure she’s lucky to have you, too.

HS: Thank you. [smiles] I like to think so.

SH: If I may ask— [I was cut off by the sudden manifestation of bottled water and small bags of chips on the desk between me and Helena]

HS: [looking at an empty space adjacent to her desk] Ah, thank you, Patricia! Sunny, I’d like for you to meet our receptionist.

SH: [Greeting the empty space] Hello, it’s so nice to meet you. Sorry I missed your hello, earlier.

HS: [After a momentary silence in the room, smiles and chuckles] That’s excellent, Patricia. Thanks so much for bringing this by!

(As if some invisible entity had left the room, Helena’s attention returned to the interview.)

HS: Sorry, what were you saying?

SH: No worries. I was going to ask if you could speak on your perspective of the Ghosting Phenomenon more specifically.

HS: [letting out a deep sigh] I think local leadership has been excellent, given the circumstances of it all. I know it’s still a touchy topic for some people, but I’m still certain that there have been massive exaggerations about the impact of the Ghost Phenomenon on society. Am I saying it’s fake? No. I’m saying it was being used as a ham-fisted tool for social control.

SH: I see... Yes, I can see that causing a mass panic surrounding the phenomenon is usable as a strategic power-move.

HS: I’m so glad you agree. I feel like people are going crazy over a phenomenon that has long since passed.

SH: When was the last time you heard news of a ghosting?

HS: [pausing to think] It’s been a pretty long time… Probably nearing two years, now?

SH: Two years…

HS: I could be a little bit off, but probably by no more than a couple of months. It came and went like that. [snaps her finger]

SH: Ah, I see. Well, before I wrap this interview up, is there anything else you’d like to say to my readers?

HS: Don’t believe everything you hear. Trusting people can be too easy. It takes discipline to distinguish delusion from reality.

SH: Thank you so much. Readers out there, be sure to check out The People’s Information Firm if you’d like to make a little extra cash by just browsing the web.

At the conclusion of this interview, Patricia and I exchanged a few formalities before she showed me back down to the door at my request.

Just to make things absolutely clear: There was not a soul in Helena’s office space apart from the two of us. She spoke to thin air when a Ghost had evidently brought us those snacks— likely in response to the message she had sent out earlier. As stated in my previous post, the general work completed by ghosted individuals in their pre-phenomenon lives remained mostly unchanged. I recall reading about bosses who would send emails to their ghosted employees with assignments, only for the assignments to be completed somewhat quickly. These bosses would scarcely receive reply, but if they ever did, it was in the form of an incoherent, word-vomit sort of email, much like many of the messages you might see online today.

Helena seems to have survived this phenomenon by deluding herself into believing all of these people never vanished. Although nothing could be farther from the truth, I couldn’t bring myself to try and question that reality of hers during our interview. Should I have succeeded in casting doubt on the coping mechanism she had developed, she would have likely ghosted shortly thereafter. My hope is that she continues to live happily as such, blissfully unaware of the empty society in which she lives.

‘Til next time,

- sunny hopewell 

----

tags: #ghosting #hope #humanity #nonfiction #bliss #lifegoeson

[arigatouiris]

head over heels // b.b — 02

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; mentions of drug abuse and explicit sexual references; mentions of anxiety, depressive thoughts, suicide, post-traumatic stress; fluff [in later chapters]

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Word count: 1875

Author’s Note: Thank you all for getting back to me! And this chapter reveals more than one can think~ 

Those who want to be on the tag-list, do send me an ask~

02. kindness

✿

Never, in her service at BlueBells’ Cafe in the past six years, had any customer been rude to (y/n). It was just fortunate how everyone who walked in were kind to her, or either they were in too much of a hurry to not be rude. They came along, took their coffees and left, and her smile always made it easier for them to like her service and keep coming again. However, on Saturdays or Sundays, sometimes, grumpy customers do make an appearance.

When grumpy customers come in, (y/n) had the best way to handle them. She’d be extra nice, which was her specialty, and she’d give them a small free treat. An unnoticed action that had gone so well in the past few years, and she was grateful that she never got into trouble.

However, that Sunday morning, (y/n) had made a mistake. Everyone made mistakes, and she never quite understood why people blamed themselves when they did make a mistake. Errors are what made human beings fascinating, and considering the mistakes she had made in the past, not placing the lid properly on the coffee mug was comparatively less grave. The man who had ordered her coffee seemed like he was in a hurry, but just as he grabbed the cup, even before she was done placing the lid, (y/n)’s eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips.

    “Sir—”

The coffee spilled onto the ground, earning looks from everyone already in the cafe. Including a certain brown haired coffee addict, who sat by himself at one of the far corner tables. Bucky’s eyes wandered to the coffee on the ground, and how the man in front of it, although unharmed, was now glaring at the kind barista.

    “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll make you another one.”

    “How dare you! What if I was hurt?”

(y/n) stared at the man and blinked, “I’ll have this cleaned right away, and I’ll make you your coffee before that. I do apologize—”

    “Listen here, bitch,” (y/n)’s eyes turned to stone as he used the word. Bucky’s ears perked up, “I want to speak to your manager.”

On other occasions, Bucky would never allow himself to be seated when a barista is being yelled at for no actual fault of their own; he had seen what happened, how the man pulled the cup away even before she had placed the lid properly on to it. And being rude to a barista was simply wrong. Bucky knew, however, that if he went up and helped her, he would be acknowledging that he knew (y/n) better than her being just a barista.

She is, he thought bitterly, staring at his now empty cup of coffee, She is just a barista.

    “I want to speak to your manager!” He screamed, and Bucky felt his grip tighten on the cup.

    “I’m sorry, sir. We’re actually more of an egalitarian community with no rigid hierarchy. Whatever it is you want to tell the manager, you can tell me. I’ll be happy to help.” (y/n) smiled sweetly, before placing another cup of fresh coffee (with the lid intact this time).

The grumpy man grabbed the cup and walked off, and seeing how there was no one standing in line for a new order, or anyone entering the cafe, (y/n) went inside to get the cleaning essentials to clean the mess on the floor. Bucky was surprised with her reply to the man, wondering how women these days were bolder; not that he hadn’t seen bold women in the past. (y/n) never looked like someone who would reply snarkily, however, he was more than happy that she had. Bucky hated feeling relieved after learning that she was safe, even in her own devices, because this feeling only insinuated that he cared for her to an extent.

After cleaning the mess, (y/n) sat back on her stool in front of the counter, and continued reading. As if suddenly remembering that Bucky was in the cafe, she turned to him with wide eyes and offered him a kind smile—one of her kindest ones—which, Bucky returned halfway.

She approached him with the coffee mug and the cream cup, with the smile intact.

    “Are you alright, doll?”

He hadn’t planned on asking her that. Sometimes, our mouths get the better of us.

    “Absolutely. Another cup, Bucky?”

It was strange to Bucky on how she barely ever spoke about herself to him. She barely spoke to him, which Bucky knew was a good thing, but he wasn’t too comfortable with it. He couldn’t help but become curious about her, he couldn’t help but think what her deal was and why it was so easy for her to let him pass as a regular customer, even when he knew he had almost hit her the other day and she had dodged miraculously.

She poured him another up and stilled for a second. Bucky watched her and didn’t realize that she wasn’t smiling, and how her lips were slightly parted, how there were bags under her eyes and how up close, her hair wasn’t well kept. She looked sleep deprived, almost dehydrated even, and he couldn’t focus on either of these characteristics. However, what he did notice were her eyes.

They were hollow and empty.

Bucky’s eyes widened when she shifted her gaze to him, blinking a couple of times before revealing to him a stirrer she had brought along. She smirked again, making Bucky almost forget that she didn’t look okay, and began to draw on his cup.

    “You don’t mind that I draw these horrible things on your coffee, do you?”

Bucky couldn’t find the words to answer. He answered with a chuckle, and felt his hands turn sweaty. He didn’t need to notice these things about her; he barely knew anything about her, he didn’t need to, he didn’t deserve to. Clearing his throat, he thought of a reply.

    “I enjoy them. You’re very kind.”

She giggled a second later, “Oh, no. I’m just doing my job, Bucky.”

He didn’t know how much she meant those words. Twirling on her feet after the job was done, she went ahead three steps before pausing. Bucky watched her as she stilled, confused, and waited. Her shoulders went up and down, indicating she had taken a long breath, and (y/n) turned to face Bucky, no smile this time. His eyes were wide the whole time.

    “It’s on the house, Buck.” She had never called him ‘Buck’ before.

    “Why?” His voice was a whisper.

She giggled, “The wonderful thing is, it’s so incredibly easy to be kind. Always makes me feel better. It’s tit for tat.”

Bucky couldn’t respond in time with her scurrying off to her stool at the counter. Tit for tat? For what? He couldn’t understand. Staring at his new coffee cup, he noticed that there was another picture, a badly drawn bug like thing, which was perhaps a butterfly?

    “I tried to make a butterfly. I’m pretty sure you think it doesn’t look like one.” Came her voice.

Bucky chuckled, “It definitely doesn’t. Who gave you art lessons?”

(y/n) laughed and Bucky smiled. A half smile. He had been smiling half-smiles a lot ever since he met (y/n). He wasn’t too sure if he liked it, but he certainly looked forward to them. After another cup of coffee, it was time for him to leave. Bucky walked over to her and offered to pay, causing her to look at him with a deadpan. Bucky clicked his tongue and saw her waive off his bill, gesturing him to leave in a comical manner.

    “You want me to leave that badly, doll?”

She looked up at him and acknowledged his flirting, “Of course,” Bucky feigned a pained expression just as she said, “So that I can look forward to you coming in tomorrow.”

He stared at her and gulped once, learning that she had flirted back. She tilted her head sideways a bit before giggling at him. And she stopped a second after. She let out what seemed like a mix between a sigh and a regular breath and shook her head slightly.

    “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

    “You didn’t. I’m sorry if I did—”

    “We should both stop apologizing to one another so much, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled another half-smile. He leaned against the counter and looked at her face. He took a good long look at the only person who was being kind to him not because he was the Winter Soldier.

There was no pity in her gaze. Just plain kindness.

    “I’ll see you tomorrow, doll.” His voice was low, and his eyes didn’t leave hers.

She couldn’t look away from the screaming from his eyes. However, just when he told her he’d see her tomorrow, they stopped. For a nanosecond, Bucky’s eyes ceased their screaming and just paused. Her eyes widened, and her face turned slightly red, a change that Bucky noticed. He cleared his throat and nodded once before turning to leave.

    “I’ll try drawing a wolf tomorrow.”

Bucky chuckled as he exited the cafe, his heart full of something. He knew he wouldn’t turn up the next day. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to become familiar to her, to someone who has been nothing but kind. She was fragile where he was not, she was kind where he was not, she was soft where he was not.

She was everything Bucky once thought he could dream of being, but here he was, desperately trying to run from it.

I’m a monster, he thought as he walked to his new apartment, ready to start the grind on repeat, pushing away the thought of a barista who was bad at art.

✿

As the door closed, the sound of the chime caused her smile to fall. (y/n)’s face was back to being what it always was—an unsmiling, rigid and nonchalant passiveness settled on an expressionless face. She sat on her stool and pretended to read, wondering why her mind was worried about a man’s screaming eyes.

She mustn’t care about Bucky; and if she did, if at all her heart went beyond the passiveness into an area that showed a tad bit of concern, she would stay away from him. If there was care, then she’d absent herself. Because she knew what happened to those she cared about.

I’m a monster, she thought, taking a sharp intake of breath. There’s no use pushing this away. She was running away from something that made no sense to her anymore, but yet, fear always prevented her from facing certain truths. And it didn’t matter now, since the people who could make her recall about those truths were no more. There was a reason to her smiling face, a reason so heartbreaking she knew that no one deserved to know.

She is kind because she knew that was not who she was. She could never be kind, kindness was not her. This was penance. Penance for a past that would haunt her till the end of time.

What hurt her most about her past was how flowers were permanently ruined for her.

✿

series taglist:

@miamua-posts  @yourwonderbelle @kissingg-incars @tanya-diggory @s-0-ldat @iheartsebastianstan @taliarosej00 @coraz0ndcristal @vlogsquadbss @azriels-forgotten-shadow @gogoca @undiadeestos @justtrynagetthroughlife 

[bgn846]

FFXV Batio AU #2

Link is in the notes if you want to read on ao3...

Summary:            

Ignis gets stuck outside before a snow storm hits.  He has no choice but to share shelter with his vampire friend while it passes over.  Fluff ensues, literally.

Thanks to @mintfoxmimi for letting me use her Batio AU for some short stories. :)

The steadily increasing wind was not a good sign.  Ignis peered out across the fields and could easily see a storm coming.  They needed to turn around and head back to town. Swiveling around Ignis nearly collided with Gladio’s chest.  The vampire had moved without Ignis’ realizing it. “We need to head back.” He stated.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I, unlike you will die of exposure to cold.” Ignis hissed.

Gladio looked slightly hurt by the comment and pouted. “I know humans’ don’t like exposure to cold.  I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”

Ignis could already feel the chilly air from the approaching storm.   They’d both gone off to investigate the possible hiding spot of a rogue vampire and the weather had unexpectedly turned.  It was that time of year in between fall and winter when storms would crop up without warning. By the looks of the clouds this would not be a quick storm.

“Time is running out, if we head back now perhaps we will make it in time.” Ignis pressed again.

“I’m telling you Ignis, it’s not a good idea.  Trust me.” Gladio pleaded, “I’ve seen enough storms in my years to know this one won’t just blow over.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” They were at least a two hour walk from town and if they left they might make it back.  However, it appeared Gladio had other plans.

“Come on we can seek shelter in the cave we explored earlier.  There was nothing there so we will be safe.”

Ignis sighed heavily; he wanted to go home but it looked like he didn’t have a choice.  Getting trapped in an early winter storm with no protection from the elements was asking for trouble.  Reluctantly he nodded and trudged after Gladio. It’s been three months since the vampire had befriended him and his life had changed considerably.

Aside from a few misunderstandings things were going well.  Gladio clearly liked him and Ignis had to admit he had fun hanging out with the vampire.  Drautos had been more willing to let Ignis explore so long as Gladio went with him. Not having to spend all day and night at the guild had been a nice break.  

Walking into the cave Ignis began looking for something to build a fire.  He knew he would need to find a heat source to stay warm. Gladio didn’t exactly radiate heat so he couldn’t rely on his friend for help.  

“What are you doing?” Gladio asked once he noticed what he was doing.

“Looking for kindling, I need to start a fire.”

“I don’t know if we can do that either.” Gladio supplied with a frown.  “The fire might draw attention that we don’t want.”

Ignis clutched the few twigs he’d already picked up. “What kind of attention?” he ventured worriedly.

“My kind.”

“I suppose a fire would signify an easy meal then wouldn’t it.” Ignis lamented as he dropped his sticks.    

“Don’t worry Ignis, I told you I’d take care of you and I will.” Gladio swore.

The cold was starting to settle in his arms and legs as they stood in the cave entrance.  He couldn’t stop his body from starting to shiver. The sun was going down and if the storm hadn’t rolled in they would have made it back to town just at sunset.  Now they were stuck out in the cold with no choice but to wait.

“Oh damn.” Gladio exclaimed looking out the entrance.

Checking Ignis groaned, great this storm was cold and snowy.  The flakes were starting to fall outside and the visibility was already worse.  Crossing his arms Ignis hugged himself to try and retain some warmth.

“Come on follow me.” Gladio instructed as he walked further into the cave.  “We can rest here until tomorrow morning and then walk back into town.”

“Rest where?” Ignis huffed, “I see nothing but hard cold rocks and no fire!”

“Oh I got that covered, don’t worry.” He smiled, “But first we gotta come up with a code.”

“A what?”

“If I poke you twice I’m asking if you are cold.” Gladio announced, “You can tell me or poke me back.  Remember, two times back means you’re warm and once is still cold.”

Still confused as to what Gladio was going on about Ignis furrowed his brow.  He was about to ask what Gladio meant when he morphed into a giant bat. Yelping out of surprise Ignis didn’t have time to move away when two giant wings surrounded him.  “What are you doing?” Ignis knew Gladio couldn’t talk when he’d shape shifted but it didn’t stop him from trying to communicate.

The bat began shuffling them backwards and without warning it toppled them both over on the floor. Landing on top Ignis tried squirming in an attempt to get up, but the vampire clamped his bat wings tighter around him and kept him in place.  His chorus of squeaks and vague head nodding seemed to indicate this was his plan all along.

Sighing Ignis gave up fighting and fully collapsed on the bat and into a thick coat of fur.  He could feel his friend shifting them slightly and readjusting his wings. A draft of cold air had been coming in by his boots but that soon ceased.  Ignis began to understand that what Gladio was trying to do. “You’re not warm blooded anymore. I don’t see how me huddling with you will help.”

The bat squeaked again and leaned forward to lick his forehead.  That seemed to be the method of choice to communicate to Ignis that he didn’t understand something.    Groaning Ignis huffed out a breath and watched it part the fur near his head. It was in this moment that his brain finally caught up to what Gladio was trying to do.  Of course now it made sense! Astrals he was a dunce.

People wore animal skins and hides for warmth all the time. The fur or pelt was enough of a barrier to hold in warmth and stave off the cold.   Gladio was making Ignis a nice cocoon with his wings and furry body to hold in his own body heat. The bat wings were flexible but strong and kept the wind at bay.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t tell me what your plans are before you do them.  It would make things so much easier.” Looking up Ignis could swear the bat was smiling at him.  Resting his head once more Ignis took a deep breath. He’d stopped shivering and could feel his body attempting to warm up.

After a moment a long pointy finger extended from one of the wings and poked him in the arm twice.  Oh right, their code. He wasn’t warm enough yet so he couldn’t poke back twice. However, he wasn’t cold anymore either so a single poke wouldn’t do.  “I’m getting warmer Gladio, I think this is working.” He offered instead.

The bat squeaked and sniffed his hair a few times.  The toothy smile was still showing on his snout as he hugged him a little tighter.  The light had begun to steadily fade and Ignis couldn’t make out much anymore. He thought he could see Gladio’s big bat ears twitching occasionally but he wasn’t sure.  He would get a double poke every now and again. After the third time, he could with good conscious respond with the same signal. He finally felt warm. If he closed his eyes and focused hard enough he might be able to trick his brain into thinking he was back home in bed.  

The storm raged on outside the cave entrance and the wind howled loudly.  None of it reached him though as he lay protected within Gladio’s wings. Feeling tired Ignis closed his eyes and curled up slightly.  The furry belly of a giant bat made an excellent place to fall asleep. It was soft and retained Ignis’ body heat perfectly.  

The sounds of birds chirping drew Ignis out of sleep.  The first rays of the sun were casting soft light into the cave entrance.  Ignis became immediately worried for Gladio. Rolling over he shook the bats arm to get his attention.  Tilting its oversized head the bat blinked a few times and squeaked at him. “Gladio it’s morning. I didn’t think you could handle sunlight this early.”

Ignis waited for a reaction but all he got was a lick to his forehead.  Guess he didn’t understand Gladio’s limits yet. “Is it safe to head back into town?” He asked instead.

The bat nodded and loosened its massive wings to let Ignis get up.   The cold air was sharp but not like it’d been the night before. The worst of the storm was over and Ignis could feel the temperature returning to a more mild level.  The sound of water dripping indicated the light covering of snow was already melting away.

Walking towards the entrance to investigate Ignis thought he heard a voice.  Turning quickly he noted that Gladio had morphed back into a vampire. “Did you hear that?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Gladio paused and nodded. “I think it’s one person.” He offered as he strode in front of Ignis to shield him from the visitor.

Ignis watched as Gladio threw his cowl over his head and approached the entrance slowly.  The voice they heard finally became clear and it appeared it was shouting for them both. “I know who it is.” Gladio supplied.  A man came into view a minute later and he blew out a puff of air in what looked like relief.

“Thank the six, you both are alright.  You behave yourself Gladio?” The man asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Cor, I’m not like that.”

The man Cor waved him off and walked over to Ignis.  “I’m afraid we haven’t had time to meet. I’m Marshal Cor Leonis.”  He replied extending his hand to shakes Ignis’. “I hope Gladio treated you well.”

“Oh yes,” Ignis answered in shock.  He’d never met the District Marshal before and had only heard stories about the stoic blue eyed soldier.  “Why are you here sir?” he asked unable to remain quiet any longer.

“I arrived just before the storm hit and they needed help this morning searching for people who got lost.  Some other guild members were out as well. Drautos and the others went to go find them and I came to find you.”

“I see.” Ignis murmured.

“Come on we’d best get back so you can get some proper food and rest.”  Cor offered staring at Ignis, he then paused and looked outside. “It’s still overcast; think you’ll manage Gladio?”

“As long as Ignis doesn’t mind me taking a rest in his rooms to recuperate.” Gladio checked.

Cor nodded, “I’ll make sure Drautos is distracted once he gets back.  You should have plenty of time.”

“Are you okay with that Iggy?” Gladio asked.

Ignis stood staring at the two of them.  It appeared Cor knew more than he was letting on but Ignis couldn’t be sure.  Swallowing hard Ignis nodded and smiled.

Gladio must have picked up on his confusion. “Cor knows, it’s okay.”

It was with that final statement that they began the trek back to town.  Gladio kept his cowl up and his face pointed towards the ground. The snow was reflecting too much sun and at one point they had to stop under a tree so Gladio could cover his face with a scarf.  After that he seemed okay and traipsed along the path between Cor and himself.

Thankfully the sun stayed hidden behind clouds for most of the walk. Ignis silently reached over and poked Gladio in the arm twice. He poked him back two times but left his arms covered under his cloak.  

Once they’d reached the guild Cor ushered them inside and upstairs right way.  Ignis took over once they’d reached the top of the stairs and unlocked his door.  Gladio sank to his knees the second the door was closed behind them. Ignis was more than alarmed at seeing Gladio in this state.  The power of the sun was evident in his tired appearance.

Gladio smiled when Ignis began hovering over him.  “I’m alright, I need some time to rest and I’ll be back to normal.”

“You could have stayed in the cave and not risked hurting yourself.” Ignis chided.

“Nah, I feel better when I’m with you anyway.”

Cor cleared his throat and cut in. “You lock your door and don’t let anyone besides me in.” he ordered.  “I’ll bring you up some food so you can stay in here and make sure he doesn’t try and fly off. He doesn’t fly straight when he’s suffering from sun poisoning.”  

Gladio groaned and shook his head.  “That was one time.” He huffed.

Chuckling Cor gave a slight bow and left the room.  Ignis immediately went to lock his door afterwards. The rest of the day was fairly calm. Ignis ate lunch in his rooms while he watched Gladio rest on his bed. The vampire’s eyes were closed but he suspected he wasn’t sleeping.

Two hours passed in this manner until Ignis lost track of time while reading a book.  The creaking of his bed caused him to look up. Gladio was gone. Looking around frantically, he noticed a small round ball of fluff hopping along the edge of the bed.  “Oh no you don’t!” He exclaimed. “Cor said you shouldn’t fly.”

Running over he attempted to catch the little bat.  Gladio evaded his grasp and had Ignis running all over his bedroom trying to grab him.   Ignis had to leap off his bed in order to get a hold of Gladio. Landing on the floor in a heap he looked at the bat and grinned.  “Gotcha!”

It was in that moment that Gladio turned back into a vampire.   Except, instead of Ignis holding a cute little bat he was now sprawled out across Gladio’s stomach.

“I was trying to prove to you that I was better.”  Gladio laughed.

Groaning Ignis remained where he was and decided to poke his friend twice in the side.  “Why can’t you just tell me these things!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gladio announced with a roguish grin.

Ignis knew Gladio was having far too much fun but part of him enjoyed the game.  He was grateful Gladio had been there to help him and he hoped they would get to have more adventures in the future.