#at least I’ve never woken in a strange bad with a stranger giving me their back

[fedtothenight]

you know what. having a weird sexual trauma saved me from the traumas that comes with hookup culture

[punkpoemprose]

December 15th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 7

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 4309 Words A/N: Anna gets to let it all out. This is the Anna and Elsa conflict that I wish they could have included in the movies, because as wonderful and kind and forgiving as Anna is, everyone has a breaking point. I thought this was going to be 10 chapters. It’s looking closer to 13-15 I think, but we’ll see how much I can squeeze in going forward. I have 4 days to write 10 more fics, and I work two of them... and I have a zine yo put together...we’ll see how this goes!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

She’d woken in his arms when sunlight flooded through the cabin’s front windows, warming her face and informing her that it was time rise once again. She’d kept her eyes closed despite it, pretending that she was still asleep. She just wanted to listen to his breathing and the beating of his heart for a little longer. She just wanted to be close and know that his holding her so tight was purposeful because she knew that he was awake and was trying to not wake her.

I’m not a good person.

The thought was not self-deprecating so much as it was chiding as she laid in bed with him for another half hour at least, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her and trying not to flush when his hands would move across her back or tuck away a stray hair. It felt strange, but wonderful to be cared for.

She knew that she shouldn’t have pretended to be asleep, but she could never remember waking up and feeling quite so safe as she did in his arms. Moments of tenderness like that was not something she was used to and so she’d allowed herself to indulge in it, and he hadn’t commented even though she suspected that he knew after a short time that she was awake.

They’d had a light breakfast, and he’d helped her redress herself in the soft morning light. She thought that she may remember the deft way he’d adjusted her corset lacing for the rest of her life. He’d asked her if she’d needed help, and while she didn’t really, she’d consented because it was easier with help, and because she was curious about whether he could manage it with only her spoken instructions. She’d felt warm when he’d expertly tugged and tied, explaining sheepishly that he was used to ropework and that he hoped he hadn’t hurt her.

She knew now, after their night alone, that he’d never hurt her. At least not on purpose.

He’d never hurt her the way Hans had.

The quiet morning had continued on the wagon ride back to Arendelle. They hadn’t spoken of anything of consequence since the night before, occasionally breaking the silence with a comment about their surroundings or the weather, but otherwise enjoying the easy silence that no longer felt uncomfortable between them. They would have plenty of time to talk, but they both had seemed to enjoy the lack of questions and heavy conversations for a while.

The calm had ended after they reentered the castle gates, at least for her. She wasn’t certain about how things went for him because they’d been separated too quickly for her tastes.

He’d gone to care for Sven, not entrusting the sweet reindeer with a groom was something that Anna understood now. Sven was as much his family as the trolls were, as she hoped she was. Kristoff felt a duty to care for the creature himself.

Anna, however, had been quickly corralled into her sister’s office, where the day quickly became anything but quiet.

“What were you thinking?” Elsa said, her voice high and the anxiety not at all hidden.

Anna thought that the temperature in the room was maybe ten degrees lower than it was in the hallway just outside the closed door. Her chest felt tight at the realization, and her headache from the night before, when her memories had been returned to her seemed to resurge slightly, a dull hum of discomfort behind her eyes. She clenched her jaw and tried to focus on something else, the wall, the window, anything but her angry sister.

“I left you a note,” she said after a moment’s thought, “I was thinking I was spending some time with my husband.”

Elsa wasn’t calmed by this though. She shook her head and scoffed, giving Anna a look of annoyance, or maybe disappointment that burned through her, like she was being given a forcible internal frost burn from the coolness, even as she tried to look away from it.

“Did you not learn anything from Hans?”

Her hands balled into fists at her side. It wasn’t a question. It was an attack. This wasn’t a meeting, it was an interrogation.

And Anna wasn’t going to back down from it.

“Have you learned anything about what happens when you try to control my life?”

It was a snipe, but she wasn’t about to let Elsa judge her, Queen or not, for trying to get to know the husband that she had forced her into marrying. Elsa had all the power in deciding how they were to handle the fallout after everything with Hans, and instead of trying to find another way to calm the populace, she’d consented to a royal wedding. She’d asked Anna if she was comfortable with it as an afterthought, after the wheels were already in motion, and while she’d seemingly felt bad about the whole thing, it still wasn’t lost on Anna that her sister had once told her that she couldn’t marry someone she just met, and then all but forced her to do the very same.

“Or do you get to blindly pass judgement because you have a crown now?”

Anna saw the ice forming on the windowpanes behind her sister’s desk. The summer scene of gardens and green grass behind her suddenly covered with thick ice marring the sightline. Anna had been looking out to the stables out of the corner of her eye, taking comfort in knowing that Kristoff wasn’t far off. It probably wasn’t a good sign that she felt more comfortable with him than her own sister already. Really though, despite being a stranger, he was giving her a chance to know him. Elsa hadn’t afforded her the same chance, making her all the more the stranger.

“This isn’t about me,” Elsa hissed, “This is about your reckless behavior. You should have taken a guard with you. He could have…”

He could have killed you.

She might have entertained the thought before the trip. In fact, she had, but as reckless as it may have seemed to others to trust him, she knew that she had nothing to fear from him. He’d never meant her harm of any kind, not from the very start.

He wasn’t a man of manners or class or breeding. He was a simple ice harvester, and he’d helped her stand strong at their wedding, he’d not forced himself on her on their wedding night, he’d given her so much of himself, and he’d been nothing but gentle with her.

It wasn’t a long play. It was a kindness. It was something like love.

She thinks he could have killed me.

It was laughable, but she wasn’t laughing. She was raging inside, her heart pounding, and her head aching from the tension in her jaw.

“You could have!” Anna shouted in return, “And I should thank you by the way for your restraint, given that I just recently found out that you apparently almost killed me once before too. Why didn’t you tell me before Elsa? Was it just one more thing you didn’t think I could handle?”

Elsa’s brow furrowed, the fire was still in her eyes, but it was mixed with confusion.

“I take it a troll visited you last night to let you know where I was. Well, I had a lovely time with them, and apparently, I knew about you and the ice and everything until I was five and mother and father had them take the memories from me. I understand why, but what I don’t understand is why you never told me. You knew Elsa, and you never told me about it, or about what you could do. The person who put me in the most danger here is you!”

The room continued to cool, the ice on the windows grew thicker and Anna could see from the angry set of her sister’s jaw that she had struck a nerve.

“So yes, I took a chance to leave and spend some time with my husband. Last I checked I’m not a prisoner, and neither is Kristoff so we decided to leave, you know, enjoy life outside of these walls for a little bit given I haven’t been outside them in thirteen years. Maybe if you were that concerned about him I don’t know, potentially wanting to kill me, you wouldn’t have let the council force a wedding.”

“That’s enough!”

Anna saw the flakes in the air. She knew her sister was at her breaking point, but she couldn’t help but keep pushing. Elsa had gone straight for her most vulnerable point as soon as she’d entered her office, and Anna wasn’t going to take it without dishing it back out.

“Is it?”

She stomped across the wooden floor that was quickly accumulating ice and snow from her sister’s inability to hold on, getting into her face. It was probably a bad idea, but she couldn’t help it. She’d rather get it all out now than keep holding it in. She wasn’t going to spend the next thirteen years of her life knocking on her sister’s door begging for her attention, she was going to take it whether Elsa liked it or not.

“Because I don’t think it is. I don’t think this is enough, because I’ve got news for you. You’re talking to me like I’m a child, and I’m not. I know because I spent every day of my childhood watching days and months and years pass alone, wanting nothing more than someone to spend the time with. I might have made a mistake, but right now the score isn’t anywhere near even Elsa, and I’m not going to take this from you. Kristoff isn’t Hans and if you compare them one more time so help me…”

It happened in a flash, the room went from icy cold, snowy, crusted with ice, to bright white, and then, back to normal.

Elsa fell apart, crumbling as she started crying, in front of Anna.

I’m a horrible sister.

No. This was necessary.

It hurts to hurt someone you love.

She shouldn’t have pushed so hard, was her first thought. Then, shortly after, as she lowered herself to the floor and wrapped her arms around her crying sister, the ice Queen of Arendelle that she’d reduced to tears, she realized that it needed to happen. Even if it hurt them both, she needed to let it out. If she hadn’t it would have eaten her alive.

“It’s okay,” she said, letting her sister cry into her shoulder for the second time in as many weeks.

“I’m not angry anymore, I just needed to get it out,” she said, holding her tight as Elsa started to shake in her arms, hyperventilating as she cried.

“I’ve been so mad for so long, and it took getting my memories back to figure out why… Elsa I know that it wasn’t your choice when we were kids, but I’ve been alone almost my whole life and Kristoff…”

“I’m so sorry.”

It was a wet, nervous sound when she spoke, filling the space as Anna searched for the words to describe exactly how she felt about her husband. It surprised Anna to hear her sister apologize, assuming that she’d want her to leave as soon as she found a voice to tell her to get out. It was what she’d come to expect of Elsa, even when she was being contrite, that she never wanted Anna to stay with her for very long.

“I knew you were lonely. I knew you needed me, but I was too afraid of myself to let you in. If I’d just talked to you more… if we’d just left the castle, maybe you would have never…”

“I know,” she said, stopping her before she could bring up the situation with Hans, “Just… I need you to start trusting me. You haven’t even talked to me since the wedding. You’ve never even had a conversation with Kristoff. You can’t just assume the worst of him.”

She was doing the best she could to keep her voice low, soft, and reassuring. Despite the frustration she had and still felt toward the crying woman in her arms, she also loved her sister dearly. She was all the family she had.

Except now you have Kristoff too.

She wished that her sister could have seen the way he’d held her when she was fighting through her headache, or the way that he took her hand and gave her signals and avenues to express her discomfort or fear. She wished that she could see the way he sometimes looked at her like she was something precious. Maybe then she’d have been less worried. Maybe then she’d understand.

“I didn’t want to,” Elsa sniffled, “At least I didn’t mean to think that about him right away. But I didn’t know when you were coming back and there were no guards with you, and then there was a troll in my office. Anna I didn’t know what to think.”

It took her almost a full minute to get the whole thing out, the sniffling and choked up tone of her voice making it difficult for her to speak and be understood.

“Think that I learned my lesson and that I’m safe with my husband. I wouldn’t have left alone with him if I didn’t trust him. It’s not like before, I’m not blind.”

“But he’s a stranger.”

“Not to me. We’ve been together for a short time, but he’s no stranger to me. He’s a…”

He’s a man I’m falling in love with.

“He’s becoming a dear friend. I think you’d like him Elsa. He’s got a good heart.”

***

When Kristoff had finished removing Sven’s tack, he’d brushed the reindeer. The he’d fed him, sat with him for a short time, and mostly waited for Anna to return. After what felt like an hour, he forced himself up from the hay bale he’d seated himself on and left Sven’s quiet company for the castle. He’d hoped that Anna would have returned after speaking to her sister, but he supposed that even though she’d told him they didn’t have any duties as a couple for the week, she might very well be too busy to spend time with him now that they were back at the castle.

He’d done his best to keep his head high despite feeling foolish walking through the halls. He’d pretended that he wasn’t lost and snuck Anna’s map from his pocket surreptitiously, running his fingers over it to find his way back to his room.

On his way he’d even managed to ask a maid if she would be able to have a lunch sent up to his room. It felt like something that he shouldn’t have asked, feeling no more royal or entitled as he had before leaving, but also wanting not to return to the kitchens himself. There had been something about being in the space that had made him feel even more like he hadn’t belonged.

Maybe it was because you were beneath even the potato peeler last week

He was in his room now, changing his shirt into one of the clean ones he’d grabbed from his cabin, along with most of the rest of his belongings that fit into one small bag. He heard the knock, and shouted that it was open, knowing it was probably his lunch, but hoping that it was Anna.

“Sir, my apologies, but I believe I encouraged you to get to know Anna better this week,” Kai said as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him, “Not kidnap her to the mountains leaving nothing but a note behind. The Queen was in hysterics… which I should inform you, you do have dinner with her tonight.”

“Dinner with the Queen?”

“As arranged with your wife I believe. She’ll also be in attendance I believe.”

He cursed under his breath, catching a both amused and disapproving look from Kai as he did so. He thought that the heavyset old butler might get along well with his father. He often made the same face.

“I should inform you that you shouldn’t curse in response when invited to dinner with a Queen, but I suppose you already know that. I’ve been in the service of the young Queen for many years, and I believe she trusts me, so I hope it is not a breach of that trust when I say that last I saw her she was not particularly pleased with you.”

“Of course not,” he said, feeling underdressed in the comfortable shirt.

Feeling underdressed next to the butler probably isn’t a good sign for me.

“Don’t mistake me sir,” he added, “I think that it has everything to do with her worries for her sister. If you assuage those I think that she would be perfectly happy to meet your acquaintance.”

Kristoff huffed. He did feel bad for taking Anna away from the castle. He knew that his Uncle had spoken with the Queen, but if he’d thought a bit more about the way he and Anna had gone away beforehand, he probably would have been able to avoid this whole situation. He didn’t want people to have to worry about Anna when he was with her. Least of all her sister.

Her sister who could have me executed if she wants.

“How would I manage that?”

Kai set a tray he’d been carrying atop a table in the middle of the room. Kristoff couldn’t help but think that the man might be doing more for him than he was strictly tasked with insofar as his level of interest in his getting into the Queen’s good graces. He told himself that it was probably because he wanted to see Anna happy and safe given the many years he spent looking after the sisters.

He was happy to have someone to help him regardless. He didn’t think he would be capable of navigating the rules and manners required to not blunder through the rest of his life in the castle without it.

“Well to start,” he replied, “We’ll need to find you something proper to wear to dinner. You have a tailors appointment tomorrow morning, but we’ll have to make do until we sort that out.”

Kristoff couldn’t help but feel like he should be insulted, or at least a bit peeved over the man’s words, but he couldn’t manage it. All he could think of was holding Anna while she was pretending to be asleep that morning and doing anything to see her smile. Doing anything to make her sister believe that he’d meant no harm in taking her to the mountains so that he’d not be under scrutiny every time he spent time alone with his wife.

***

Anna had taken it upon herself to arrange the whole thing. She felt a little bad about the amount of time that it was taking to set her schedule for the week and speak with the kitchen staff about what she wanted for the dinner she was arranging in hopes that her sister would be comforted by meeting her husband in a more significant way than watching their wedding. At least she hoped that the meeting would allow the two to come to some sort of understanding.

I only have two people. If they could just get along that would be ideal.

With all the running she’d been doing she hadn’t had a chance to return to Kristoff. She’d heard that Kai had brought lunch to his room, and after that she assumed that they were busy. Kai was her sister’s most trusted advisor, even though his official position was castle steward, Elsa trusted him with aiding her in crucial decisions beyond its walls. That Kristoff had his council just went to show that there was hope, and that at least someone else was invested in making things work.

She spent the rest of the afternoon deciding what to wear and receiving and writing thank you letters for wedding gifts that had been pouring in from merchants and allied nations. Most of whom had already been in town for Elsa’s coronation and who had not had the time to select a well thought out gift after the rush of events the small country had experienced.

She’d waited until just shortly before the dinner was to start to walk through the halls and to the dining room, finding neither Kristoff nor her sister on the way.

“My apologies your majesty. I hope you understand I’ve never needed to inform anyone of my travel plans in the past, and it was not my intentions to worry anyone by taking Princess Anna into the mountains with me. In the future should we decide to go anywhere together I’ll ensure that you are informed directly.”

Anna recognized the voice of the man standing in the hall outside the dining room. The man addressing the queen, but so neatly dressed she barely recognized him as her husband. He looked much like he had on their wedding day. Clean shaven with his hair slicked back. The clothes he wore were simple, but they’d been pressed and someone had taken the time to tie a cravat around his neck.

Kai no doubt.

That man has been wearing cravats for years, in style or not.

They hadn’t noticed her coming down the hall, or at least she didn’t think that they had given that neither made any sign of noticing her approach.

“You must understand,” Elsa said back, seeming in much better shape than she had been hours earlier, “With everything that happened with Hans I worry about her. I’m sure you’re a good man, but you can’t fault me for being cautious.”

He gave her a strange look and Anna’s heart started to pound. She hadn’t spoken with him about Hans. Being in the mountains for the whole debacle, she’d suspected he hadn’t known all the details, and for now she wanted it kept that way. Her feet felt frozen below her though, as Kristoff responded in confusion.

“I’m not really sure I know the details,” he said quietly, “I’m sure if I did I would have thought twice about taking her away from the castle alone. No one has told me much of it, even if it was the reason for our wedding.”

Elsa shook her head, looking anxious, but then recovered.

She took a deep breath and Anna wanted to run down the hall, to speak up, to tell her that it was something that she and Kristoff would discuss later, when she was ready.

“Hans…He tried to kill us both.”

***

He noticed her after her sister spoke. She looked white as a ghost at the end of the hall, and he understood why. Her sister hadn’t exactly been vague when it came to telling him why she’d been worried about him taking her into the mountains.

Hans. The foreign prince. He’d tried to kill his wife and her sister.

He’d thought that maybe the real reason for the wedding had just been that Elsa had lost control of her powers and that to build confidence in her ability to rule a royal wedding was planned to comfort the masses. He supposed now that it was just part of it, that the real reason was more complex, and that it all came down to the man that Anna had known before him.

He wasn’t sure of how to react. All he knew was that Anna’s eyes were on him and that she looked upset. Crossing the hall to her was instinct, as was giving her his hand, offering it to her open and outstretched.

She walked forward instead, into his chest, and into his arms as he wrapped them around her. She had every right to be upset, as did her sister he supposed as he felt even greater regret for taking Anna away without warning. So he did what he thought was best, what Anna was showing him was best. He held her close.

Elsa cleared her throat after a moment.

“I think…”

Kristoff turned his head, not releasing Anna to look at her sister. She was staring at them, her cheeks flushed and an almost smile on her lips.

I think she might understand now.

“I think dinner is ready. I’ll just go ahead… Anna… Kristoff, whenever you’re ready. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

When the dining room door closed behind her, leaving them alone in the hall, he turned his full attention back to Anna, holding her tight, leaning his head down low, and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s alright,” he said, because that was all he could think to say. “It’s all going to be alright.”

“Who made you wear a cravat?” she asked, quiet with her face against his chest.

“Kai.”

She made a soft sound, almost like a laugh but not quite.

“I thought maybe. Can I take it off for you? You look uncomfortable.”

He nodded, and she stepped back a bit out of his arms, giving him room to duck down for her.

Her small fingers slid along the collar of his shirt, loosening the knots of the offending cloth and then, unexpectedly, running her fingers through his hair, mussing it a bit before pulling the cravat away and allowing him to stand back up again at his full height.

“There,” she whispered, taking his hand with the cloth between their palms, “You look like you again.”

The color had returned to her face and he smiled at her. She liked him as he was, and that was a comfort.

Now to convince her sister.

[queenk00k]

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 3)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 2K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

the one where JJ throws caution to the wind (but when was he ever cautious anyway?)

JJ has woken up in pretty strange locations before. The porch steps of the Chateau, the hull of the HMS Pogue, the Boneyard. Nothing was stranger than waking up on a couch in a Kook’s bedroom, who he’d really only spoken to twice. The couch was surprisingly soft, and JJ finds that he actually had one of the best sleeps he’s had in, well, he can’t quite remember how long.

That doesn’t erase how completely fucking weird it is that he not only went home with a Kook but spent the whole night there.

JJ sits up and is quietly thankful Scarlett appears to have been awake for a while; she’s dressed and perched on the end of her bed in a similar position to the night before. She’s also biting her fingernails, chipping away the black nail polish with her teeth. This brings JJ some comfort – she’s clearly feeling as unsettled as he is.

He clears his throat and Scarlett turns to look at him, smiling cautiously. “Hey,” she says. “You feeling okay?”

JJ nods and stands up. “Yeah, yeah I’m good thanks.”

“Sleep alright?”

“Mmmhmm.”

An awkward pause.

“Listen,” JJ says as he moves towards the door. “I really appreciate what you did for me and all but I gotta go. Honestly, I don’t understand why you let me stay on your couch-”

Scarlett scoffs. “You really think that low of me? You crashed your motorbike in the middle of the night and looked another blow from death. What was I going to do? Leave you on the side of the road?”

JJ is taken aback; he didn’t expect her to answer like that.

“You’re a Kook, I’m a Pogue…you know how it is.” JJ shrugs.

Scarlett rolls her deep brown eyes. “That shit is so stupid. We’re not all that bad.”

JJ opens his mouth to reply something along the lines of “well, in all of my experiences-” but the sound of tires screeching on gravel outside diverts his attention.

Scarlett’s eyes widen and she grabs JJ’s arm tightly. He clenches his jaw and forces himself not to wince; she grabbed one of his darker bruises. He gently removes his arm from her grip and Scarlett looks at him apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just my parents are home. You gotta go, now! Go out the window, quick quick,” Scarlett says as she frantically ushers JJ to the window. JJ’s startled by the sudden change in pace but honestly, he’s pretty thankful for an excuse to get out of there. He’s never felt comfortable around Kooks.

You can hardly blame him.

Scarlett helps JJ push the window up far enough for him to climb through (his arm is feeling pretty busted from the events of the previous night) and he doesn’t hesitate in sticking a leg through to climb out onto the roof.

“Wait, wait,” Scarlett says. “Is that it? You’re just gonna leave?”

JJ looks at her quizzically. “I mean, yeah. What were you hoping for? A goodbye kiss?” He taunts.

Scarlett makes a face at him. JJ can’t tell if it’s disgust or disappointment.

“No. Can I at least give you this?” She reaches into her bedside drawer and pulls out a wad of cash; JJ estimates it to be at least $200.

“And why would you give me that?”

“You seem like you need it,” Scarlett replies, shrugging.

Wrong thing to say.

JJ narrows his eyes and replies, “I’m not your charity case.”

Without giving Scarlett a chance to reply (JJ has an old habit of needing the last word), he scoots out of the window and down the gabled roof of her stupid fucking mansion.

He thinks he’d be content with never seeing her again.

JJ eventually manages to drag himself to his bike and take off towards the Chateau slowly, his bones aching (but not before kicking down the realtor’s sign – if the Camerons have more to worry about then he figured they won’t care if Rose’s frozen smile was kicked in). He’s being more careful on the ride over this time, not willing to repeat the spill from the night before. JJ is lost deep in thought on the way back to the Chateau and before he knows it, he’s riding up the driveway, the bike’s tires kicking up dirt as he skids to a stop.

JJ hates that for a second, he expects John B to emerge on the patio, smiling and holding out a Coors Light, like he’d done so many other times before.

JJ clears his throat and shakes his head, willing the thought of his friend to dissipate. He steps off his bike, wincing, and makes his way up to the house. JJ has every intention of making it all the way inside, but he stops at the steps, lump forming in his throat, and sits down.

Eyes brimming with tears that are close to spilling over, JJ sighs and puts his head in his hands, taking off his cap and throwing it into the dirt.

Where the hell are Pope and Kiara? JJ thinks. It’s been well over a day and a half since he stormed out of the Heyward backyard and gee, fuck him for assuming his friends might come looking for him or something drastic like that.

JJ pulls his outdated iPhone 6 (a hand-me-down from Kiara when hers got updated – pity it didn’t come with her unlimited data plan) with its smashed screen and broken home button.

No texts, no missed calls.

JJ presses the lock-button, so he doesn’t have to look at the Pogues’ smiling faces in his wallpaper, and tries to reason with himself.

Pope told you he was going to be busy with his interview, you shouldn’t be mad at him. That’s fair enough, he warned you.

Nah dude fuck that, he lied to you! He was sneaking off and banging Kiara.

Speaking of Kie, why doesn’t she want to see me? I thought better of her, I thought we were supposed to be best friends.

Her parents have her on lockdown-

When has that stopped her before?

JJ grunts in frustration and picks his hat back up off the ground, jamming it onto his head over his sweaty blonde hair. He clearly wasn’t going to solve anything sitting here.

--

JJ’s new habit seems to be wandering around the island like a lost boy, as he finds himself walking along the beach, kicking up sand with the toes of his work boots.

He’s not sure what his plan is – maybe he’ll run into Kie or Pope or fuck, literally anyone he knows. What JJ does know is that there’s no chance he’ll run into any Kooks on this side of the island, so at least he won’t have to deal with their pompous asses.

Or so he thinks.

JJ makes it halfway down the stretch of beach before he suddenly hears a sweet, but hoarse voice behind him.

“And here I was thinking I’d never see you again.”

JJ whips his head around and fails to suppress his groan at seeing Scarlett in front of him, dressed this time in a red crop-top and cut-off denim shorts. He resists the urge to run his eyes over her – he’s only human after all, and a teenage boy at that.

“Are you stalking me now?” He asks bitterly but makes no attempt to walk away from her.

Scarlett crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You wish, Maybank.”

“What are you doing here then?”

Scarlett sighs and sits down on a sand dune, motioning JJ to sit down next to her. He briefly considers telling her she’s dreaming but hey, once again she’s giving him attention and being nice and honestly that’s all he needs right now. Some company that’s not going to make him feel shittier about his life. So, he relents and sits down beside her in the warm sand.

Scarlett leans back on one elbow and moves her sunglasses to the top of her head as she replies, “less chance of running into Kooks here.”

“But they’re your-

“-my people?” Scarlett scoffs. “Hardly. Only thing I have in common with them is our family money, everything else is completely at odds.”

JJ smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It feels nice.

“I’ve heard this story before,” he says. “I’m not much of a reader but “rich girl who’s actually bad ass” sounds pretty familiar.”

Scarlett waves her hand. “Yeah yeah, it’s all true! I even have a dark back story – I’d make a great main character.”

“Let me guess, you’re adopted, and your real family was murdered by some unknown killer.”

“My younger sister died in a car accident, and I was never the favourite child. My parents shipped me off to boarding school, so they didn’t have to deal with me,” Scarlett replies, looking directly at JJ.

It seems an inappropriate time for him to be distracted by how beautiful Scarlett’s dark brown eyes look in the sun.

And yet.

JJ’s eyes widen. “Wait, you’re serious? Fuuuuck, I am so sorry…I had no idea,” he says, grimacing. He’s annoyed at himself – he was just trying to banter, but it’s all fun and games until someone drops a bomb like that.

Scarlett smiles and touches his arm delicately. JJ first notices how cool her hand is, despite the humid day, and then notices she has a fresh coat of dark red polish on her nails.

He tenses, not used to someone being so blatantly touchy like this, least of all a Kook. Scarlett notices and moves her hand back onto the sand, looking at him like she’s about to ask him what the problem is but clearly decides against it.

“It’s fine, honestly. Happened a long time ago and they leave me to my own devices a lot, which makes it easier to do whatever I want.”

JJ nods in understanding. “I get that.”

There’s a comfortable pause before Scarlett abruptly stands up, dusting the sand off her denim shorts. JJ looks at her questioningly but stands up too.

“Enough of this emotional shit,” Scarlett says. “I wanted to talk to you to a) apologise for my behaviour this morning-”

“-it’s fine-”

“-and b) invite you out tonight.”

“Out?” JJ asks.

Scarlett nods. “I think we’re both in need of some fun and some company. Why don’t you come to mine tonight? My parents are out again, and they’ve got a pretty sweet liquor cabinet.”

JJ can’t believe he’s saying this, but he says, “I’ll think about it.”

Scarlett shrugs. “Close enough. See you tonight, or not,” she says and blows him a kiss before turning and walking away down the beach.

JJ stands there stunned for a moment (definitely because of the sheer absurdity of the situation and not because he checked out her ass as she walked away) and thinks over his options.

He’s not sure he wants to willingly wander back into Kook territory for the second night in a row, never mind go into one of their houses.

Although, he thinks to himself. Where’s the harm in spending time with Scarlett for the time being until Pope and Kie come around? Because they will, right?

Besides, Scarlett’s pretty nice, pretty hot and she’s willing to hang out with him and give him free booze. What could go wrong?

JJ’s made up his mind and, perhaps against his better judgement (which was truly shaky to begin with), he finds himself on the roof of Scarlett’s mansion again that night, tapping on her bedroom window.

He starts to worry he got the wrong room or, even worse, the wrong house, when she doesn’t answer straight away but all of a sudden the curtains are pulled back and Scarlett’s excited face appears on the other side of the glass.

She yanks open the window rather haphazardly (JJ suspects she’s gotten into her parents’ grog early), the cool glow of the moonlight making her teeth an iridescent white as she grins widely up at JJ.

“So glad you could make it, Maybank. Let’s get this party started.”

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[talesmaniac89]

Sunshine

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean thinks back on all the great times he’s shared with the you and how much he loves you.

Triggers: Reader death, loss, heartbreak, grief. ANGST. Like... Just angst.

Y/N = Your name  Y/E/C = Your eye colour  Y/H/C = Your hair colour 

A/N: Set to the song “You are my sunshine”. I’ve seen some really sad comics made with this song, which in turn inspired this.

You are my sunshine

That song always came to mind when Dean thought of you. You were, after all, always humming it when you thought no one was listening. The melody falling easily from your lips whenever you were lost in thought, had your head in an old tome, or were tinkering with your weapons between hunts.

He loved you for it. Just like he loved you for so many of other things you did and didn’t do. All the little pieces that made you who you were. 

Falling in love with you hadn’t been some Hollywood romance. He didn’t just wake up one day, head over heels. No, he’d fallen in love with you slowly but surely, as he got to know more about every little thing that made you who you were. And, before he even knew it, you’d solidified your place in his heart until he found everything you did to be perfect; from the way you laughed to the little furrow in your brow when you got angry. 

You’d been so perfect, too perfect to be wasted on a bruised and broken hunter like him. So he’d held himself back. Unwilling and unable to even consider tainting your perfection with his humanity.

Then one day, you’d nearly gotten yourself killed in a hunt and he’d found out you weren’t perfect after all. You weren’t some invincible perfect force. You were human, real, warm… He’d realised you weren’t just a dream. And he’d fallen even deeper in love with you.

---

My only sunshine

He’d been so nervous the day he finally asked you out. Finally giving up fighting the undeniable truth of his feelings for you after years of his brother nagging him. Unable to stop his traitorous heart from dedicating every beat to you, even though he’d tried to protect it by just staying your friend.

Hell… Dean had been terrified. 

He’d barely even been able to work up the nerve to speak. Green eyes locked on the steering wheel in front of him instead of on where you were riding shotgun. Or at least waiting for him to turn the key in the ignition to drive you back to the bunker where Sammy was waiting for the take away food on your lap.

Still. He’d fought through the nerves; letting every ounce of courage he’d ever had burn through his veins, his heart in his throat and hands shaking as he wiped them against his jeans over and over again. Crashing and burning against every stuttered syllable in a weak attempt at forcing them out. 

Your (Y/E/C) eyes had been shining with a million silent questions as you watched while Dean tried to stumble his way through pre-rehearsed words. Words he’d wanted to tell you for so long, they seemed to have gotten lodged in his throat over time.

He’d felt like a teenager. 

If anyone except you had been in the Impala with him that day, they would’ve though he was some kinda greenhorn. That he’d never asked anyone out before. And it sure as hell had felt like it… As if every other pickup line and quick fling with some stranger in another pit-stop town had been some strange distant dream.

Sure, his pulse had always gotten a bit faster with that little rush of adrenaline and distant fear of rejection whenever he slid up to yet another woman in yet another bar in the past. But it had never been as vivid as it was when it was you sitting next to him. 

You were different. With you everything was amplified a thousand times over. His heart thundered through the very core of him as he struggled to breathe, trying to remember how to speak. The fear of rejection was harder to deal with than facing down a damn apocalypse ashe words scraped against his chest on their way out. Making him wince at the weak attempt at a confession that left him. Scattered, broken and hesitant. Sounding more like puzzle pieces than words.

You’d been quiet, once he finished pushing out fractured sentences. Staring at him silently, (Y/E/C) eyes wide and slightly confused as you tried to sort through his messy confession. The silence had stretched on and he had thought he’d failed. That he’d lost you forever. 

Then you smiled. And Dean had felt like he was finally right where he belonged.

You’d nodded and you’d beamed that beautiful bright smile at him, twisting further in your seat to face him. Your feelings, feelings he never thought you’d have, had slipped past perfectly plump lips and warmed the very air around you as you returned his words of love with a less scattered rendition of your own. Your happy laughter as he looked back at you in wide eyed wonder, lingered in his mind from that day on as the most beautiful sound he’d ever hear.

The memory still made him smile. And he’d been sure it always would.

Just as he’d smiled while he marvelled at the woman in his arms. Held awkwardly against him in the cramped front-seat of the Impala. Take away food and shadows long forgotten has he held you in his arms. 

Dean would never forget that day. That was the day he found happiness again. Never even realising he’d lost it somewhere along the road so far, until you slipped it back into the palm of his hand when your fingers entwined with his.  

---

You make me happy

As days turned to weeks and weeks to months, it was as if his feet never really touched the ground. He was floating in your light, letting the shadows fall away. You were always there within his reach. Always smiling – always looking at him. And every time you smiled he couldn’t help but love you more. 

He’d just kept falling for you, a little more, every day, as the rest of the world fell away.

The laughter and the smiles. The quiet days when you were just lying in his arms. The pranks, the movie nights, the happy back and forth quips in the car... It was all so vivid. Like every single moment was happening simultaneously, forever. Just you, for one beautifully long eternity filled with normal little moments that added up to shape everything.

He’d loved waking up to find you sleeping next to him. Fingers smoothing back your hair as he hummed your song. Or falling asleep next to you; with his arm wrapped around his world, keeping you safe as you sang out loud to keep his nightmares at bay.

He never stopped falling in love. Finding more and more little parts to cherish every day he spent free falling by your side.  

How you’d roll down the window as soon as you slid into the front seat of the Impala, letting your hand follow the stream of air through the open window. Your head back and eyes closed as you sang along to his rock songs. Looking so damn perfect it took everything Dean had to keep his eyes on the road. 

Or the way you’d lounge in his favourite chair; with that cheeky little smile and a teasing spark in bright eyes. Like you belonged right there and the whole bunker was yours. And damn it... It was. 

You belonged with him, with them...  You were the only one that ever really fit perfectly in the ragtag little group. The bunker was your home, and you... You were Dean’s home; you were his everything. You were the only part of his life that had ever felt so real. So right.

Those would forever be some of his favourite moments. The quiet ones. The happy ones. When there was nothing but you in his eyes. When he could love you unapologetically and there was nothing, no monsters, and no hunts, in the way.

---

When skies are gray

Even the hunts, the harder days, had seemed easier with you by his side. Offering a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on when he failed to save someone. And as you had been there for him, he’d been there for you.

Sure, there had been hard times. Days where his love for you had driven him close to insanity as you kept insisting to hunt with them. Days where you’d woken up screaming and crying from nightmares…

But you’d gotten through it together. Dean had promised himself to always protect you. And during those nights where you woke up crying, he’d held you a little closer. Humming your song into your soft (Y/H/C) hair until you fell asleep again. Your hands curled into his t-shirt and legs entwined with his under the covers.

No matter what, you were in it together. Through bad hunts, nightmares and close calls. It was your light, your warmth and your hand that had pulled him through the shadows and back into the sun. Kept him sane and grounded as you both made the world a little safer, a little brighter, time and time again.

You were his sunshine. You were his light at the end of every tunnel. With you by his side, he felt stronger and safer than ever before. When your hand was in his, Dean could accomplish anything. 

---

You never know dear

That’s why he had been all smiles earlier that morning. Silently humming your song as he got ready for the hunt. Only stopping to chuckle quietly to himself when he heard your own rendition of the same song from the room next door. He’d smiled at the bathroom mirror as he tossed the leather jacket over his shoulders and reached down into his pocket to feel the cool metal resting there.

The ring nestled there was so small...

Yet it was somehow still heavy in his pocket, where it’d been burning a hole ever since he went to buy it. He’d been hesitating, waiting for the perfect time to ask. But there was no such thing as perfect timing in your world. So, as he let his thumb brush against the small stone set in the ring, he knew he just had to leap again. To keep the free fall of loving you going.

Dean smiled at his mirror image and he saw nothing but your happy future together smiling back at him as he felt the engagement ring warm up in his hand from holding onto it. He’d barely been able to control the nearly giddy smile on his lips when you called for him to hurry up. Slipping the ring back into his pocket he’d walked towards you, towards the hunt with an easy smile on his face. It was an easy case, and once it was over he would ask you to marry him.

It wasn’t Hollywood, it wasn’t a chick flick moment, but it was time. It was you, and he needed you. Forever.

---

How much I love you

Only hours later, and Dean had forgotten how to smile. Losing the will to even try forever. He didn’t know how he could have been so short sighted.

Sure, it had seemed like a simple enough hunt. But the easiest cases had the biggest chances of going wrong. The ring weighed heavily in his pocket now as his knees rested on the gravel and the machete he’d held lay discarded by his side.

It wasn’t meant to end like that. You had a future together. 

He’d pictured your smiling face as he gave you the ring a million times. It couldn’t end like this. Yet there you were. Lying still and unmoving on the ground in front of him. Those beautiful eyes that would never look at him again hidden behind closed eyelids and your lips still, not humming, never again smiling. 

It wasn’t meant to be like that.

---

Please don’t take my sunshine away

You’d been sure the hunt was over and so had he. His hand going to his pocket just to check that the ring was still there as he’d started walking towards you. Already planning a route to that open field lit by stars he’d spotted on the way to the hunt. 

The smile on your face had been bright and easy. Your light laughter hitting him like a wave of love even from across the abandoned barn. It had just been a split second, but you’d let your guard down, and a second was all it took.

The fang had come out of nowhere. And no more than a minute later, Dean found himself sitting beside you on the cold ground. The ring forgotten in his pocket as he called out to you. He’d screamed your name, he’d pleaded with an unresponsive god, he’d begged you to return to him... 

Yet you’d stayed still. 

Lying motionless on the ground next to him, not answering his pleas as your skin grew pale and his palms were stained a violent red. Your hand in his already cool to the touch, and the core of you empty and hollow from the lack of a heartbeat.

---

The other night dear when I was sleeping

He didn’t know where he found the strength under the weight of his shattering world. But somehow Dean’s arms managed to lift your motionless body up from the gravel below. His tears hot in his eyes, he’d cradled you close walking back towards the impala. 

He’d only managed to make it a few steps across the gravel, before his strength had left him and he’d sunk to his knees, cradling your still body. The impala was right ahead of him. But Dean couldn’t see it. He saw nothing but you a his tears soaked into the bloodied strands of your (Y/H/C) hair. 

On his knees in the gravel, with his voice hoarse and torn from screaming, he’d whispered the words he’d wanted to tell you later that evening into your hair. Arms wrapped securely against you, he’d rocked your body back and forth. Just like he’d done countless times whenever you woke up screaming from another nightmare. Like the whole damned night was only a nightmare, and he could shake you gently awake.

“(Y/N), baby wake up. You can’t go to sleep yet sweetheart. I have something to tell you,” Dean’s words had sounded louder in the cold night before dying on his lips in a broken sob. 

It wasn’t a nightmare, and you weren’t waking up.

---

I dreamed I held you in my arms

There would be no more happiness. No more laughter. You were gone and, with you, so was any light in Dean’s life. It was true what they said about life flashing in front of someone’s eyes before they died. Because at that very moment he found himself thinking back on the good and the bad times. 

A life with you, left unlived, flashed in front of his eyes as his heart died with you.

“I love you (Y/N), more than anyone or anything. Please…” Dean pushed the words out between the images of an imagined life together and the sound of your laughter. Images of you wearing his ring, you dressed white and walking towards him, you holding a little baby boy or girl with green eyes and (Y/H//C) hair... 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time. I know… I was acting like a coward, not asking you earlier, but…” The whispered laugh was dead and scratchy. It felt wrong falling from Dean’s lips between the tears. And he knew it was a sound he would never make again. How could he? How would he ever be able to laugh again now that there was no more you?

---

But when I woke dear, I was mistaken

“(Y/N), you’re my sunshine. And I was wondering. I wanted to ask you…” He stopped to suck in a sharp breath as another explosive sob tore its way from him. Ice cold grief hammering against his chest on the way out and breaking his shattered heart a little bit more with every breath.

“Will you marry me?”

Dean spoke the question and the words he’d rehearsed in front of the mirror, into the quiet night air. Though he knew you’d never get to answer him. He’d been too late after all.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, he pulled the delicate band from his pocket and put the gold ring on the ring finger of your left hand. Lifting the now cool metal to his lips as soon as it was securely wrapped against your skin to place a careful, tear-stained kiss on the stone.

That song always came to mind when Dean thought of you. 

And just as he’d done several times before; he found himself singing your song into the crown of (Y/H/C) hair on top of your head as he rocked you in his arms. His trembling, grieving song filling the air as he crushed your cold frame closer to his chest and stayed there with you throughout the night.

---

And I hung my head and cried.

[endydancer1]

We used to be strangers | Part 3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Y/N Lincoln

Summary: Tom has just finished his latest movie and his heading back home to London. While he is passing the high building, suddenly something happens what changes his life completely. What is the shadow up there?

WARNING: Mentions of injuries, blood, depression, thinking of suicide.

..................................................................................

Tom POV:

"Uhm.. Yeah, sure. I'll be there tomorrow morning. Is everything alright?" I asked quite nervous.

"Yeah, but someone wants to meet you."

I could feel her smile when she said that. My heart started pounding.

"O-Okay. I'll be there."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Mr. Holland."

"Goodbye."

I looked at Harrison, who was looking directly at me the whole time. "What happened? Does it have anything to do with the girl you saved yesterday?"

"Yes. I think... I think she is alive. Someone wants to see me. Maybe that girl wants to thank me or I don't know."

"Oh, right maybe she can thank you another way, Hm?" Haz winked at me and chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. "Very funny, Harrison, I don't even know how she looks like. Her head was covered with blood. Why would I want to sleep with her?"

"Maybe because you are single like forever and you are like pain in the ass?! Like really Tom, just get fucking laid down already!" Harrison tried to sound annoyed but quickly he started laughing at me. I was quite shocked to hear him talking like this. Yeah, we were teasing each other all the time, even about our sex life, but Haz had never told me something like this. I wasn't mad at all. Maybe he was right.

"I know Harrison, but I've just never met a girl who would catch me like..."

"Like Anna, right? I know Tom. But... You should move on. It has been.. Almost 6 years already. It's time for you to date again, don't you think? To be happy with someone else? Seriously, Tom, my parents are starting to think we are dating. Not that there is something wrong with it, I love you, you are my best friend. But not like I would touch your pe... "

I nudged Harrison into the arm and started giggling." Alright, alright I get it Haz, stop talking about it. You're gross. "

We both were laughing for a good minute. I was happy to have Harrison. He was my best mate and supported me in everything.

After a few other games of Fifa, we went to our bedrooms saying good nights to everyone. I closed the door and jump into my bed. I was undressing myself slowly, recalling everything that had happened in the past two days. I was happy for the girl to be okay. Or at least I hoped so. I actually wondered if this girl was single. Harrison's words resonated in my head. Maybe... I should try to find someone and start to date again. I would lie if I told you I didn't miss all these things you do as a couple. But I have been single for 6 years and it wasn't that bad. I didn't feel sad and alone. I spent most of the time with my friends, I am sure that was the reason I weren't thinking about girls at all. But maybe it's time to change it. With these thoughts, I was slowly falling asleep.

The next morning I woke up very early. It was like 6 a.m. Boys were still sleeping, so I went to the kitchen quietly and made myself a tea. Couple of minutes I was only sitting there, scrolling Instagram,and drinking my tea. I liked few pictures of my fans with me. I always smile when I see all these kind words and the joy they feel when they meet me. I love my fans so much.

After I drunk my tea and my heart was almost melted, I relocated myself into bathroom to brush my teeth and to do my hair. I put on some casual clothes, took my keys from a car and went outside. Hospital was quite far from my home, so walking there would be stupid idea.On my way to hospital I stopped at the mall. I bought some croissants as a breakfast and also some flowers for the girl. I hope she will like them.I thought as I paid for the little bouquet of tulips.I didn't know what the girl liked,so I bought her a chocolate and some fruit too with the get well soon card.I put it all into my car and drove to the hospital.

Babygirl POV:

"Come here little girl, someone wants to meet you. Don't be shy, come on!"

I was slowly walking down the stairs.I was scared. My little body was shaking. My hands were holding onto staircase railings tight.

"Hey, babygirl, don't be scared. We just want to meet you." Not so young man smiled from the downstairs. I slowly came down the stairs, eyes darted to the ground. There was one of the nurses with a couple.

"These people would like to adopt you.Say hello to them.They are excited to meet you.You needn't to be scared.They won't bite, will them?" she joked and looked at them. They chuckled and nodded their heads saying no. The man knelt on his one knee to be at the same level as me.

" Hi. I am Sam. I heard a lot about you. This is Chloe. My wife. We have two kids, a boy, Matthew, who is a bit older than you. He is 8. And we also have a girl, Melanie, who is younger than you. She is only 2. They are really nice and can't wait to meet you. So what do you think..Will you come with us? "he smiled warmly and held out his hand for me. I was standing there quietly. Thinking. I wasn't ready to go with them.I would never be ready. I wanted my mommy back. Her face was still in front of me. She was crying,hugging me tightly. It felt like it was yesterday when she had abandoned me. But she didn't want to. I knew it. She said it to me.

"I love you, babygirl. You know it, right? I would never do this if I hadn't to. I want the best life for you and I can't give you that right now. I promise you, I will come for you, when the time is right."

"Mommy, I want to stay with you. We can go to Daddy. I know he loves you. And maybe me too.."

"We can't, baby. He doesn't know about you and I can't tell him. Promise me something, please. Don't be mad at me. I need to do this. I love you so, so much. You are my world. But I wouldn't be a good mum for you. I promise you, honey, I will come back for you. One day, we will meet again. Bye, my love. I love you more than Severus loves Lilly." She kissed my forehead one last time and put me into nurse's hands.

I love you more than Severus loves Lilly. I will always remember these words.

My eyes started watering and tears formed in my eyes.

" I.. Want my.. Mommy back." I cried.

Y/N POV:

"No, no, no! This can't be real. This has just not happened. Please, no. Omg! I need to..I need to go..Please..NO!"

Someone's hand woke me up from the nightmares. I tried to open my eyes, but quickly closed them again. The light in the room was so strong, it hurt my head.

"Ouch! Can you.. Can you please.. Turn off the lights. It's too strong.Please." I begged the person who held my hand.The person let go off my hand and dimmed the lights.

"How do you feel, Y/N?"A familiar voice asked me. I managed to open my eyes a bit. I saw Neil sitting next to me, holding my hand.

"N-Neil? What are you doing here? Where.." I looked around. I recognized this room. I have spent there every minute. Every day, week, month, year.. I spent there most of the time, trying to save lives of my patients and now I am lying there, as one of them.

" What has happened to me? "

" You fell off the building. One young boy saved you. What did you do there? What happened Y/N? Tell me, please. I was worried about you." He squeezed my hand. I looked at our hands and then into his eyes. He was so worried. His hands were shaking and his eyes gleamed from tears. His lips were parted and about to say something again.

" I... " I gulped.

" Dr. Melendez, we need you! There is a girl with the deep cut." Claire, the resident, urged him out of the room. I was thankful for that.I wasn't really in the mood to explain anything to him. I closed my eyes for a bit and took a deep breath. Only a few seconds after they left there was a knock on my door. I signed.

"Come in."

The young boy appeared in the door. He had  curly brown hair, hazel eyes and.. He wasn't tall at all. He was young. Probably he was less than 20. But he looked familiar. I had seen him before.

"Ehm.. Are you... Are you Y/N Lincoln?"

"Yes, that's me. And who are you, may I ask?"

"I am Tom. Tom Holland. I... Saved you, when you, when you... fell." He was so nervous. Aaw, it was kinda cute. He was a cute young boy.

"Oh, so it was you. Come in, please." I invited him.

He closed the door and came to my bed.

"Uhm.. I.. Bought you flowers. Hope you will like them."He handed me a bouquet of tulips.

My eyes lit up.

" They are for me? Oh, thank you so much. They are my favourites. They are beautiful. Thank you. " I kissed his cheek. This definitely made my day better.He blushed immediately.

" I am glad you like them. And this is also for you. Hope you feel better. Is everything alright? "

" You are so nice, thank you. And thank you for saving me. " I smiled at him. His cheeks were still red.

"You're welcome. I couldn't leave you there. I am happy that you are okay now. So... The nurse called me yesterday that someone wanted to meet me. So.. I assumed it was you. So...do you need something?" he looked at me and his eyes were running down my face, from forehead to my lips. He stopped there for a little while and then came looking back into my eyes. It was strange. It felt like I had seen these eyes before.

" Uhm.. It's nice to meet you, but... It wasn't me. I've just woken up."

A/N: Let me know what you think about this story so far and what you think about the new character - babygirl. Sorry for my English, it's not my first language and I am new with this. So I would be happy and thankful about the feedback. Have a nice day! 😊

[ominousunflower]

(toi)let me in

Written for the APS server’s first birthday! Thank y’all for creating such an amazing and fun space. 

Summary: One lesson Adrien Agreste should have learned by now: Never ask what are the odds when you have the luck of a black cat.

Rating: G Word count: 1767

Read on AO3

__________________________________________

Adrien Agreste is wide awake.

He’s been lying in Marinette’s loft bed for ten minutes now, one arm slung over Marinette and his chin tucked against her shoulder, sure that if he just waits, he’ll fall back asleep.

This isn’t the first time that he’s sneaked into her room as Chat Noir and slept beside her. In fact, ever since they found out each other’s identities two weeks ago and started dating, it’s fairly commonplace.

It is, however, the first time he’s woken up desperately having to go to the bathroom.

He doesn’t want to disturb her, and what’s more, he doesn’t really want to risk going downstairs. What if someone sees him? The chances are slim, but then, Adrien’s never had the best luck.

Adrien groans and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the ache in his bladder. It’s no use, though: despite the grogginess in his head, he can’t fall back asleep, and there’s no way he’s going to last until morning.

With a sigh, he eases the covers back and crawls out from under them. As he does, Marinette mumbles and rolls over to face him, her fingers tugging at his shirt sleeve.

“Where’re you going?” she asks, words slurred by sleep.

“Bathroom,” Adrien whispers. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

He smooths back her bangs and kisses her forehead, then crawls to the foot of the bed and descends the ladder. Walking lightly so that the floor doesn’t creak, he crosses to the trapdoor and opens it ever-so-slightly.

Holding his breath, Adrien listens for the sound of voices or footsteps below.

Silence greets him. Satisfied, Adrien eases the door open and lowers his body through it.

He can get there and back in less than a minute. The chances that either one of Marinette’s parents will also decide to go to the bathroom in the forty-five seconds it takes Adrien to pee—well, the chances are so low, in fact, that they might as well be nonexistent.

And so, moving as silently as his superhero namesake, Adrien creeps downstairs toward the Dupain-Cheng bathroom.

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

Tom Dupain awakes with a need.

He had a feeling he shouldn’t have chugged that bottle of water before bed, but what’s done is done; now he is awake in the middle of the night and forced to deal with the consequences.

With a heavy sigh, he rolls out of bed and drags himself to the bedroom door. Sabine’s quiet snores fill the room, assuring him that at least he hasn’t woken her up.

He opens the door and steps outside, moving as quietly as his weight will allow—and that’s when he sees a figure standing outside the bathroom door, frozen with its hands raised in surrender.

The stranger is too tall to be Marinette, but too small to be an adult. Nonetheless, adrenaline courses through Tom’s veins, and he takes a threatening step forward. “Who are you?” he asks. He reaches toward the wall and taps the light switch, bathing the room in dim amber light.

The stranger doesn’t say anything, but Tom’s question is answered: because standing in front of him, hair sticking up, eyes wide, is his daughter’s classmate Adrien Agreste.

“Adrien Agreste?” Tom says.

Knowing the intruder’s identity does not make things any clearer. Why is a teen idol who lives several blocks away standing outside Tom Dupain’s bathroom at three in the morning? Is this a dream? And if so, why is Tom dreaming about his daughter’s crush breaking into their apartment in the middle of the night?

“I, um…” Adrien’s eyes flick toward the kitchen window, almost as if he’s considering that as an escape route. “Our toilet is broken.”

Tom stares at him, not sure he’s heard correctly. Maybe there’s too much wax in his ears again. “What did you say?”

“Our…toilet broke, so…I came here?”

As the parent of a fourteen year-old, Tom Dupain is well-acquainted with teenagers and their bizarre excuses. On a scale of one to ten, he ranks Adrien’s a three. While a broken toilet is not unheard of, there are too many holes in this story: how did Adrien get in, if their front door is locked and everyone is asleep? If Adrien lives in a mansion, shouldn’t his father be able to afford twenty-four-seven toilet fixing?

And the most unbelievable part of all, which is how Tom knows for a fact that Adrien is lying: there is no way the Agrestes only have one toilet in their house.

“How did your toilet break?” Tom asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Uh.” Adrien clears his throat. “Water…rabbits.”

“Water rabbits.”

“They’re not actually rabbits,” Adrien says. “They are bugs. That…eat metal. And toilets.”

Tom squints at him. Maybe this is a dream. Isn’t Adrien supposed to be at the top of his class? This excuse is so disappointing that Tom is tempted to call Adrien’s father, just to tell him that Adrien needs to work on his improvisation skills.

“Water not-rabbits ate your toilet, you say,” Tom says. “Do I look stupid to you, Adrien Agreste?”

“No!” Adrien says. “They just got in the pipes. And…” He grimaces. “Okay. I lied. I clogged the toilet.”

Ah. Tom was once a teenage boy who did not understand how to use toilet paper in moderation. He’ll give Adrien the benefit of the doubt, although two questions still remain. “And you only have one toilet in that big mansion of yours?”

“There’s something wrong with the tank in the downstairs one,” Adrien says, his voice steadier than before. “It overflows if you flush it, and we can’t get someone to look at it until tomorrow morning. There is another one in my father’s room, but I didn’t want to wake him up to tell him that I clogged the toilet. He’s gotten mad about smaller things.”

Tom’s stubborn parental streak rears its head, and he fights the urge to spontaneously adopt Adrien Agreste. He can’t do that, of course. After all, Marinette can’t date Adrien if Tom adopts him, and since Marichat doesn’t seem to be happening yet, he supposes Adrienette is the second-best option.

Of course, Tom knows Adrienette won’t last. Especially not if Adrien is the type of boy who breaks into people’s homes and attempts to surreptitiously uses their toilets.

Which brings Tom to his final question. “Why our toilet? And how did you get in?”

“Oh, um, well…” Adrien rubs the back of his neck. “I texted Marinette, and she was kind enough to let me in. And she didn’t see a need to wake you up, since she was sure you would say yes!” He smiles tightly, eyes wide. “Um. You would have said yes, right?”

“I would,” Tom says, leaning forward. Adrien cowers slightly, and it occurs to Tom that maybe his stature is a bit intimidating.

Good. Let all teenage boys (or girls) cower before him. Tom Dupain doesn’t need a shovel talk; his body will be the shovel talk.

“But where is she?” Tom asks. Adrien’s excuse is approaching an eight or nine on the scale, but some loose ends remain. “Why didn’t she wait down here with you? My daughter is responsible. She must have known this would look bad. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were…”

And then it hits Tom: it looks an awful lot like Marinette sneaked a boy into her room in the middle of the night.

OCCAM’S RAZOR, his mind booms.

Adrien flinches, and that’s all it takes for Tom’s Papa Senses to start tingling. “Adrien,” he says, his voice low. “Did my daughter—”

“No!” Adrien says. “No. Marinette would never do something like that. Neither would I! I—I’m not like that. I’ve never even seen Marinette’s room! Or, well, I have—but only once, when we practiced for that gaming tournament. Technically twice, since it was on TV that one time—”

“Where is she?” Tom repeats. He can practically feel his mustache trembling with suppressed fatherly rage.

“Oh! Right.” Adrien’s throat jumps as he swallows. “She just, uh, heard something skittering around upstairs, and thought it might be a mouse, so she went to—”

“There are mice in my bakery?” Tom bellows.

“No!” Adrien says. “Or, I mean, I don’t know. Maybe it was a squirrel!”

“That’s still a rodent!” Tom says. His concerns about Sabine’s sleep evaporate, and he turns to pound on their bedroom door. “Sabine! Wake up! There are rodents in our bakery!”

“Maybe there aren’t!” Adrien says. “It’s probably cockroaches—no, wait! Dust mites! I’m sure it’s just dust mites. I’m sure if you had enough of them they could make some noise—um, actually, could we continue this conversation after I’ve gone to the bathroom, please?”

And then a familiar figure appears at the bottom of the stairs, yawning as she tugs at one of her pigtails. “Adrien,” she says, “when are you coming back up? You’ve been gone for more…than…” She trails off, eyes widening as they focus on Tom.

Tom feels like his eyes are glowing red, and judging by the look on Adrien’s face, they very well might be. “You were upstairs, were you, Adrien? That’s strange. There’s not an entrance to our house upstairs.”

Adrien’s eyes dart to the bathroom door, then to Tom, then to Marinette—then, again, to the window for some reason. His hand creeps toward the bathroom door, fingers curled to clutch the knob.

“Don’t you dare,” Tom says.

Adrien pauses, hand lightly grasping the handle.

Tom glowers at him, a low growl building in his throat.

“Adrien,” Marinette squeaks. “Please don’t leave me to explain this by myse—”

“I’m sorry!” Adrien yelps. Fast as lightning, he wrenches the door open and ducks inside.

Tom lunges forward, hand grabbing the knob—but it’s too late. He hears the tell-tale click from the other side as Adrien locks himself in the bathroom, and the knob refuses to twist.

“You can’t hide in there forever!” Tom says.

“Tom,” Sabine’s voice says, from behind him. “What’s going on? Did I hear you say something about rodents?”

“Rodents?” Marinette echoes.

In a desperate display of strength, Tom twists harder at the knob, and harder—until it pops right off the door with a cracking noise.

“Oh my god,” Marinette says. “You sealed him in.”

“He did what?” Adrien’s voice cries.

“Enjoy our toilet, Adrien Agreste,” Tom says, with his most menacing voice. He raises the door knob like a sword. “Enjoy it, because this is the last time I let you near my toilet—or my daughter—ever again.”

[softjeon]

Here there be beasts | Pt. 2

• Pairing: Jimin x Wolf!Namjoon • Genre: Angst, Fluff | Rating: Mature | RedRidingHood!AU / Fairytale!AU → Gifset Trailer • Words: 10k | AO3 • Disclaimer: nsfw-content, smut, mentioning of blood, abuse, violence, weapons, dark themes, anxiety

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳  Fear was a strange feeling. People feared the unknown, the dark and witchcraft. The shadows that were lurking through the forest at night. The same fear that made the folks in the village keep their distance from the forest at night; that locked their doors on nights when there was a full moon, or no moon at all.

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It had rained through the night into the early morning. As it came down, it had brought a cool dampness to the air that Jimin felt right to his bones, sending a shiver through him. A light fog stood over the lake he passed, but when the sun began to make it’s way above the horizon Jimin could feel it’s warmth rapidly tempering the air, causing the mist to rise almost straight up in a motion that appeared like dancers across the lake.

There was a smile on his lips that he couldn’t wipe off since he had woken up in Namjoon’s embrace this morning. And even though it had been a rough sleep, he liked it a little too much. Jimin only parted from the other with a heavy heart but he really needed to hurry to get back home before they would come and look for him and give the other and the wolf more trouble. Before he climbed down again though, Jimin draped his red coat over Namjoon softly, hoping that it would keep him warm. And maybe, also would make the stranger remember him.

Jimin was back in the village as soon as the sun’s rays were waking everyone up. It was early, but he could hear a few people already roaming around and he hurried up to get back to the doctor’s office to bring the herbs he had gathered and head home. Their village was about as small and simple as a town could be. The little community had a marketplace at one end and a church in the center.

“Jimin!”

Jimin froze in his steps, cursing under his breath before turning around with a sweet smile. “Yes?” He gazed up at Hosung, who was stomping towards him. It was obvious that he had seen him not being home when he had promised. Jimin didn’t listen to his rant and curses, the little prayers he said in between left him cold and feeling nothing as he simply let Hosung pull him along and behind closed doors.

“You done now?” Jimin crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I am fine as you can see. I knew I wouldn’t make it back to the village in time, so I stayed with my grandma, simple as that. Don’t pretend like you would have cared Hosung.” He rolled his eyes at him, before turning to the stove to heat up some water. “You didn’t look for me, right? Couldn’t been so bad that I was gone. Did you invite someone else at night then? To keep you warm?” Jimin passed the taller man, shaking his head as if it even phased him that the other did. Honestly, Jimin could have cared less. Right now, he had different things on his mind and one being the stranger that lived in the woods. 

Without a word Hosung turned Jimin around and slapped his face. He was shaking with rage and adrenaline from the hunt because he hadn’t had time to rest and had been on his feet the whole night.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I was worried sick for you! How could you do that to me? Vanish into thin air right after an attack? During the hunting night when the horns and people might have driven the monster out, angry and full of spite? I’ve seen you dead and in pieces in my mind, Jimin, fearing that the next time I would be able to look into your eyes they would be cold and dead and wide open in fear because you died in pain. And now you come back and mock me? Accuse me of cheating on you? What have I done to deserve this! Haven’t I always had your best interest at heart? You are an accepted citizen in this village because of me and me alone, Jimin, you might remember that next time you think about talking to me like that.”

Jimin hadn’t expected the blow. His eyes were wide, cheeks burning as he stood frozen in Hosung hold. There were tears threatening to spill, so he bit his tongue as hard as he could, trying to take a deep breath. “I…I am sorry.” The apology came over his lips so smoothly, hands shakily reaching out for the other. “I was…I was just as scared…for you,” He gulped, trying not to let the other see how much his cheek was hurting right now, hoping that there would be no bruises left. The lies to soothe the man were so easily spoken, something that Jimin had many years to perfect. “I don’t want you to get hurt out there. I am sorry, Hosung.” Hosung easily let him in again, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry if I scared you Jimin. Just please... don’t run away from me or stay outside the village. You know what can happen to people who do that. You are safe in here. Just…stay. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to see where your future lies. It’s here, with me. Not outside the village, not in the forest. There’s only death and horror waiting. I can keep you safe and cared for. You will have everything you wish for. Just let go of that childish stubbornness. It won’t help you.”

Jimin didn’t fight the hold, just nodding to whatever the other was saying. “I know,” He whispered empty promises to Hosung. “I know, I’ll keep by your side.”

He knew it would be the safest way to just keep inside the village, to not find out what really happened and just stay with Hosung. He just wanted what was best for Jimin and honestly, sometimes he wasn’t so sure what even would be the right or the best thing to do. And yet, something inside of Jimin was telling him not to stop searching.

He just needed to be a little bit more careful from now on.

...

The village still seemed to be in shock, whispering behind closed doors and pointing their fingers at people even after a couple of days had passed. Jimin hadn’t returned to the forest. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, but Hosung kept closer to him and he did everything to show that he was trustworthy again, playing the perfect role until he would finally fall into his old habits again (meaning sleeping all day after being passed out drunk at the tavern).

Jimin sighed as he stood at the market, eyeing the fruits of the farmer as he eavesdropped a few conversations, when he startled at hearing his own name. His heart began to beat a little faster, hands shaking as he reached for an apple to buy when it slipped from his grasp. “Don’t listen to them,” The farmer had been quick enough to catch it and placed it back in Jimin’s hands. “They are looking for anything to make sense in this time honestly, saying it could have been you, the only one that the wolf spared.”

“But there’s never been a wolf with me…they just exaggerated it-“

“I know,” The older man smiled at him and Jimin’s eyes widened when the other so easily told him that he believed him.

“You believe me?”

The farmer nodded again, his gray hair falling into his eyes with the motion. “The girl survived, too, right? They are just making up stories now - but be careful, will you Jiminie?” The younger nervously bit his lip. No one ever called him this nickname. No one but his mother. He placed two apples in his hands, refusing to take any payment from him. Jimin bowed in gratefulness, putting the fruit safely in his basket before he left the marketplace. He knew a better place to get more answers and he also needed to get his hood back. 

It was strange to step into the woods without his red cloak protecting him, but the sun was shining brightly - he wouldn’t need to fear anything. At least Jimin hoped so.

He took the same route, straying from the path just about the same way he had done the first time. Jimin had absolutely no clue where Namjoon lived or where he could find him and the longer he was roaming the woods the more he feared he would get lost and never find the other. 

…

Namjoon had waited, with excitement in his heart for Jimin to come back. He had even tried to wake up at sunrise like people normally did, neglecting his hunts at night. But Jimin didn’t come. And when his reserve of fruits and nuts and berries was almost gone he made a last dinner of them, a bitter taste in his mouth as he knew that he would need to hunt again and that he would sleep during the daylight again meaning that even if Jimin would visit him he might miss him. 

After a long night of hunting Namjoon had finally called it a night - or day, as the sun was already shining. His muscles were sore, and his hands were bloody so he stripped and slowly walked into the little lake. It was cold but it helped to keep him awake until he was finished cleaning up. He had a full stomach and he was exhausted so sleeping would be easy after this. He yawned, heartily, splashing a little around to get rid of the blood without really having too much scrubbing because his skin felt raw and tender after the transformation.

Jimin was about to turn around and take another route, when he heard the splashing sound of water and his heart instantly skipped a beat. The moment, Namjoon (and his sculpted, and very much naked chest) came in view, Jimin shrieked and jumped behind a tree in his panic that he had interrupted something that he wasn’t supposed to interrupt. He whined quietly, hoping that the other hadn’t seen him, yet. 

Namjoon almost got a heart attack when he heard the shrieking. He had dozed off a little despite the cold water but Jimin’s panicked sound brought him back to his senses.

“Jimin?!” He turned around, searching frantically for a sign of the younger - and deflated visibly when he saw the other staring back at him from behind a tree. “Jimin, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to wake the whole forest? I bet even your grandma heard your scream. Did you see a snake?”

“I am so sorry!” The younger jumped back again, cheeks flushing red in his embarrassment. “No…no, I…just.” He put his hand over his eyes, carefully getting out from the tree he was hiding behind while at the same time covering up Namjoon’s body so he wouldn’t see him. “I didn’t expected you to...to be in the lake...half naked, I assume.” He peeked through his fingers, before hiding quickly again.

“Why?” Namjoon made a face, “Do you wash yourself with clothes? That’s stupid.” He tried to get out of the water but another sound from Jimin had him freezing right where he was. “You’re really that shocked because I am naked? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked person before. I can assure you that I have the same parts as you do. Just maybe… a little different in size...” He added as he let his eyes travel down Jimin’s form.

Jimin groaned when Namjoon hit the nail right on its head. He was right, Jimin had never seen another naked man before. Not one like Namjoon at least, that was sculpted like a god or something that was designed to lure him in.

“Hey, I’m not that small!” Jimin pouted cutely as he let his hand fall, but still not daring to look directly at Namjoon. “And no, I don’t wash myself with clothes either…it’s not nice though to stare, right? It’s called manners.”

Namjoon burst into laughter. “Manners? I don’t care for manners if it means denying oneself the pleasure of a nice view just to dream about it in secret behind closed doors. Also weren’t you the one that told me he doesn't believe in confessing your sins? Isn’t that against the rules, against the manners of your village too?” He smirked at Jimin who was visibly flushing under his gaze.

Jimin dared to look at Namjoon, trying to keep his eyes locked on his and not let them sway down a little more but he failed miserably only seconds in. “So, you don’t mind it if I…” Jimin stopped, when his eyes fell onto the many scars and bruises on Namjoon’s skin. Some of them looked fresh, as if Namjoon had fallen or gotten into a fight. His name fell from his lips in a whisper, before Jimin jolted forward not caring about getting into the water because now the scenery had switched from the other taking a simple bath to cleaning out his wounds. “Are you hurt? Oh god, what happened?” 

Jimin’s demeanor changed so fast Namjoon had a hard time keeping up. It took him a moment to get what Jimin was referring to because for an awful second he thought he still had blood on his hands but when he looked at them they were clean. Then he remembered the bruises that came from changing forms, the cuts that came from running through the woods on bare feet and without clothes and the wounds that came from prey fighting back. Now it was his turn to flush in embarrassment. “Oh, no, don’t worry, I’m... I’m fine this is just… you said it yourself when we hiked up those hills; it’s exhausting and dangerous and sometimes you slip. That’s all. I’m fine, Jimin. Don’t worry.”

Jimin soothed over Namjoon’s skin with a light touch, tracing a few scars mindlessly. “Be a little more careful will you?” He whispered, smiling up at him as he settled his hands on the other shoulders. “I don’t want you to get hurt, so please keep in mind that I will smack you if I find you with new scars because you have been too exhausted and slipped from somewhere, deal?” Jimin sighed and looked down at his own clothes that were now sticking onto his body. “So much about washing myself with clothes on.”

Namjoon chuckled, smoothly slipping back into teasing mode. “And how will you know if I got any new scars? Will you map out all the old ones? I guess that would take patience, some time - and a lot more attention to detail than you were willing to give ten minutes ago. Or did it change now that you are about to get naked too?” He gently pulled at the wet clothes on Jimin’s form. “If you needed an excuse to go for a swim with me you wouldn’t have to get into the water like this. You might have ruined your shoes.”

Jimin scoffed, “I have another pair at home and trust me. I will count them all if you let me.” The soft giggle that came from him, only showed how much Jimin enjoyed their little flirting. It was making him feel a little lightheaded with the way his heart was beating against his chest. “If I would have known we would swim today, I would have come prepared.” He licked over his lips teasingly as he leaned onto Namjoon, amazed by how warm he still felt despite the cold water. 

“Oh? And what would that preparation have entailed?” Namjoon was getting curious. He had been fond of the boy despite them being strangers, but it was easy to become attached to someone so honest and caring. Now that Jimin began flirting back though he wondered if there could be more to their teasing. He would definitely be up for it - but Jimin might just test the waters, play with fire a little while behind the village walls there were safety and a home waiting for him. “Swimming with naked strangers, hu? Aren’t you spoken for?”

“Just a pair of dry clothes and maybe a few more sit-ups, because I can’t keep up with you,” Jimin raised an eyebrow at him cockily, trying to ignore the new fact that Namjoon just revealed to him that he was completely naked when he could only see his upper half. He let his hands soothe over Namjoon’s chest, tracing the line of a scar when he whispered his answer, “It was never my choice to be spoken for, but it is my choice to be here right now. Shouldn’t that be all that matters?”

Namjoon’s eyes widened at that answer. He hadn’t expected Jimin to sound so defeated, as if his vow was a burden he would like to forget. Namjoon tightened his grip on Jimin and pulled him closer until they were almost flush against each other. He leaned in to whisper into Jimin’s ear. “The forest is my escape. It could be yours too if you want to. What happens here stays here if you want it to be a secret. You only need to try and be quiet because if you scream again someone might hear you.”

Jimin slowly wrapped his arms around him, hands soothing over Namjoon’s shoulder blades and down his back. “Thank you…I’ll try but…if you run around naked like this,” He sighed, giggling as he hid his face a little more, “It might happen again. You maybe just have to be fast enough to shut me up.” Jimin winked at him cheekily, before he finally pulled off from him and walked out of the water again. Halfway out of the water, Jimin took his shirt off, wringing it out before hanging it and his pants to dry over a branch.

Namjoon licked his lips like the predator he was, letting his eyes roam over Jimin’s form freely. The boy looked so soft, so delicious; only flawless, unmarred skin wherever he looked, and he silently wondered if Jimin would look as beautiful with love bites as he imagined. Sometimes wrecking a beautiful thing could be a pleasure - especially if Jimin wanted him to.

Jimin noticed Namjoon’s gaze on him immediately and it made him want to hide, cheeks dusting rosy as he walked back into the water. “Is it that bad?” He asked, pulling Namjoon a little deeper into the water with him. 

“Bad? Oh no, quite the opposite. You’re pretty - too pretty for your own good.” He pulled Jimin back towards him and now that the other had undressed and came back into the water he saw it as permission to explore whatever this was between them a little further. “Do you like to be touched, pretty one?” His hand wandered downwards over Jimin’s back until it rested on the small of his back, just above the swell of his ass; perfect to pull him closer - or to let his hand slip a little lower if Jimin wanted him to.

The breath got stuck in Jimin’s lungs, when Namjoon so easily manhandled him. He didn’t push his hand away, liking the feel of the warmth way too much but at the same time, it made him nervous. No one ever had touched him like that, not even Hosung. His touches felt different in so many ways. “I…I don’t know?” Jimin had his arms wrapped around Namjoon’s neck, lips only inches away from his cheeks. 

Namjoon smiled against the younger’s neck, placing a brief kiss against the warm, soft skin. So that’s why he had been so shy. “Do you want to find out then? How it feels?” He nudged his knee in between Jimin’s thighs to open the younger’s legs a little and give him more room in case Jimin would let him touch him.

A gasp fell from the youngers lips, followed by a soft smile. “I’m not sure anymore if you’re not the evil luring me in with your sweet talk.” Jimin whispered softly, before hooking a finger under Namjoon’s chin to make him turn a little more towards him. “But I’m already too deep, right?” His eyes flickered down to Namjoon’s lips as he leaned in a little closer. 

“Well if you say so... then I better don’t disappoint.” Carefully he closed Jimin’s lips with his own and almost moaned at the sweet taste. A few hours ago, he had buried his fangs into flesh, ripping out bloody chunks to satisfy his hunger and here he was, getting the sweetest dessert after. His hand wandered lower, tracing the curve of Jimin’s plump ass before getting a good grip on it. When Jimin opened his mouth a little surprise Namjoon took this as invitation to deepen the kiss and he plundered Jimin’s mouth recklessly. The younger so easily got lost in it, letting Namjoon guide him and roam his hands all over his body. It drew a moan from him so quickly, that it had him surprised at the sudden pleasure that was pooling in his stomach and Jimin just kept on kissing Namjoon to keep him from seeing the blush on his cheeks. 

Even when their lips parted and they were catching his breath, Namjoon’s hands were still on him, guiding him to the more shallow water, where he could lay Jimin down with the most beautiful smile the human had ever seen. A little shyly, Jimin let his hands soothe down Namjoon’s back to his bottom, while he let the other kiss down his neck. “Namjoon,” Jimin’s voice sounded out of breath and he closed his eyes as he arched his back into his touch. It send a shiver down his spine.  

“Yes?” He wasn’t sure if Jimin was asking for something or if he was just calling out for him because he didn’t know what else to do. Making out with Jimin was an absolute treat because the younger reacted beautifully to everything he did, every little touch, every kiss drew a response from him and Namjoon couldn’t wait to see how the younger would act if he went further; if he would be able to play his body like that when he crossed the last boundary between them.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something ever since we parted,” He blinked his eyes open, when Namjoon pulled from his lips again, urging him on to talk. “About the wolf, if you heard from him…if…if he’s okay and…,” Jimin soothed over his cheeks, pushing a string of hair behind his ears. “Do you still have my cloak, maybe? You’re not mad at me, are you? That I left you? I just had to be at the village and…” He casted down his eyes, “I wish I would have gotten to see you sooner again.”

Namjoon propped himself up on his elbow to get some distance between them so that he could look at the other properly. Jimin’s plush lips were red and swollen and his eyes were gleaming. Namjoon smiled a little wolfishly, proud that it was him to make Jimin look like that. “Are you telling me you want to talk now? Instead of making out. I’m deeply wounded.” He wasn’t. And with a little kiss on the tip of Jimin’s nose he showed him that before entangling himself from Jimin. Nonetheless it took him a few deep breaths to calm his blood (and keep it from rushing south).  

“The wolf is okay, don’t worry. I saw him last night, actually. Hunting. So, he is safe and well fed.” He watched as Jimin’s face lit up and shook his head with a fond expression. “You’re quite something you know that? Also, I do have your cloak of course but not here, obviously, I’m not mad at you and... what do you mean? Did they ban people from going out? Did they lock you in?” His eyes went cold and grey at the thought if someone keeping Jimin confined. 

Jimin had rolled over onto his stomach, staying close to Namjoon who was basking in the warmth of the sun while still being very much naked (a fact Jimin still tried to ignore, though his eyes kept wandering down a couple of times). 

“Not really locked in…,” Jimin hesitated, drawing little circles into Namjoon’s skin. “He was just...very mad at me for staying away and I said some stupid stuff. I should have seen it coming and not angered him more…” He quickly replaced the sad expression with a smile and added in a happier tone, “I’m glad that he is okay, though please tell him to be careful. The hunt isn’t over…” Soothing over Namjoon’s cheek softly, he made him look at him, hoping that the other wouldn’t ask more about him staying away, “I will warn you again if I know anything, I promise. And about that cloak. I really like to have that one back. I only have two of them left. I need it...or else the wolf won’t know who I am.”  

“Him...” Namjoon didn’t push any further but he didn’t like the shadow that mentioning that person cast over Jimin’s eyes even though the younger tied his best to hide it. He could imagine that whoever it was who treated Jimin badly wasn’t just easily left behind. The village was small and Jimin only had his grandmother. He probably brought safety and security or respect from other villagers or all of it together. He had kind of done the opposite to stay safe: instead of staying with someone he didn’t love he had only allowed himself short encounters with other people, wanderers who passed through the forest, people who were looking for herbs that only grew in certain areas, people that he would never see again. And even though it wasn’t what really made him happy it was the safest option. He gave Jimin a gentle smile. “I’ll give you your cloak, don’t worry. But you shouldn’t think that the wolf won’t recognize you. He knows your smell. Cloak or not you are safe here during the day.” 

Jimin nodded at that, biting his lip in thought as they got up and Namjoon reached for his shirt to give it to him. It hadn’t dried up completely, but at least it wasn’t soaking anymore. He eyed Namjoon from the side, who just stood there stark naked waiting for him. “Do you always walk around naked like this?” He raised an eyebrow, not able to hide how his eyes flickered down his body once more. Namjoon chuckled and Jimin felt a pinch of jealousy at how free he must feel, living in the forest and not feeling insecure. If he had the body of Namjoon’s he probably would feel a little bit more confident, too. Namjoon answered with an awkward shrug. He couldn’t just tell Jimin that when he changed he ripped his clothes, so he made sure to transform naked - which also left him with no clothes for his return. 

Quickly, the younger hurried and caught up to him, his eyes wandering down his backside and Jimin almost gasped when he saw more scars on his back. Being so in his thoughts and worry for the other, Jimin didn’t see it when Namjoon stopped and bumped into him. Rubbing his nose, his eyes flickered up to see what made the other stop, when his gaze fell onto a small cottage. Jimin had no clue how deep in the forest they were, but it definitely was far enough so no one could find Namjoon’s hide-out that easily (not like his grandma’s house that was right by the path). Slowly, he followed the other inside, trying to take everything in from his surroundings and very much glad when he saw that Namjoon was getting dressed. It was a simple home, a few books stacked in one corner. A bed, a small fireplace. Everything that one needed and nothing more. “I like it,” Jimin said with a big smile, taking the dry clothes Namjoon offered him, before pointing at the kettle. “Can I?” He asked, “To make us tea? Not everyone is hot like you all the time. You really need to tell me your secret.” Jimin giggled, pulling the dry sweater over his head before he began to prepare the tea. “Or else I will spend my winters nights with you from now on.”

Namjoon felt a little pride when Jimin paid his home a compliment because he hadn’t been sure if it was strange compared to the houses in the village. There were dried herbs hanging from the wall and he had some stuff lying around that he thought pretty; a bird’s feather, a stone that was gleaming if you tilted him just right towards the light, a few snail shells…

“Sure, go ahead. Just... let me pick the herbs please. After watching you collect basically anything out there in the forest thinking it would help, I’d feel safer like that.”

Jimin easily made a little more room for Namjoon, letting him help set up the tea (although Jimin was sure he wouldn’t accidentally poison them). He liked it when Namjoon was close to him way too much already. “Namjoon? I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” He fumbled around with the hem of his sweater a little nervously, “About what you said earlier how it’s safer during the day. What happens at night? Is it true what they say? Not the wolf I mean…but something else.”

The question caught him by surprise, and Namjoon was stunned silent for a moment because he didn’t know what to answer. Telling him that the wolf was hunting at night and that some nights were more dangerous than others (full moon nights) would have been the most truthful version but he didn’t want Jimin to be scared of the wolf even though he should be. And he doubted that Jimin would really listen. He had almost run straight back to the hunters just to ‘warn the wolf’. He could tell Jimin about another beast out there, one that was tearing those village people up - but he didn’t want to lie so blatantly and he also had no idea what exactly happened so he just answered pretty vaguely. “It’s just that lots of predators are on the hunt at night. And even though most wouldn’t enjoy eating a human it doesn’t help you if they realize their mistake after they’ve hurt you. A forest is a dangerous place but during the day there are people every now and then or someone who might help or maybe even your grandma. At night you might bleed out before someone notices. Or just fall to your death because you didn’t see the hillside.”

Jimin nodded as he reached for two cups and filled them up with the hot tea. “So, it’s really just predators out there? Nothing evil? What is attacking our people then? Why isn’t it attacking you or my grandma? Not that I want them to…but, I just want to understand.” He gave the steaming cup to Namjoon, before taking a sip from his own, regretting his decision right away when he burned his tongue. 

“I don’t know, honestly. Who or what is hurting your people. I can just assume. Maybe it’s an animal with rabies or something else that is hurt and hungry and insane.” He sipped his tea to buy himself some time, not caring about the heat. “I guess your grandma and me we are safe because we stay in our homes, which have door locks and sturdy wood walls. And because we don’t run around during the night. Otherwise we would be in just as much danger as you villagers.”

Jimin sighed. This weren’t the answers he had hoped to hear, but he thanked Namjoon, nonetheless. There wasn’t much to sit on, so Jimin just leaned against the counter, observing the other with a soft smile. “You look tired. Do you want me to go?” He placed the tea aside and walked over to him, pushing a few strands of his hair back from his face, cupping his cheeks. “It’s okay, I’ll come back again. I promise.”

“I am... pretty tired, actually.” He was torn between giving in to the aching tiredness that had settled into his bones and his wish to keep Jimin with him a little longer. They had just seen each other again and they had made out and it had been awesome, and he really wanted to do that again and... when the cup almost slipped from his fingers he leaned against the counter to make sure the next thing slipping wouldn’t be himself. Stupid transformation and the toll it took on his body. “Only if you promise that you’ll come sooner next time.” He finally said.

“Come,” Jimin’s voice sounded sweet like honey, when he held out his hand for him to take, pulling him towards his bed. He pushed Namjoon down on his shoulders, draping the blanket over his body easily, because the other was moving like a doll for him. “I will try, I promise.” Jimin leaned in, taking in his sweet scent, before placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Namjoon felt like he had already started dreaming before even closing his eyes. He let Jimin guide him easily and when he laid down, feeling the weight of his body settle against the mattress he sighed blissfully. “You should stay, next time. And sleep with me.. in the same bed… I’ll…warm you...” He managed to say half understandably before sleep took him under and his breath evened out, leaving Jimin the only one awake at his side.

“I know you will,” Jimin whispered, staying just for a little longer because Namjoon looked so peaceful while sleeping that he couldn’t help it. He kissed him on his cheek again, before getting up and collecting the dirty cups again to clean them up before he would go. Namjoon didn’t seem to mind the soft noises as he just kept on snoring and Jimin chuckled fondly. Before he went out, Jimin took out the apples he had gotten from the farmer and placed them on Namjoon’s table. He had wanted to share them with him earlier, but their lips had been occupied in a different way. Jimin blushed at the thought of kissing Namjoon again and quickly hurried outside, where the sun was already starting to set. Jimin pulled the red hood deep into his face before heading back into the forest and to the village again. 

...

The village was in uproar again and most of the citizens were gathered on the great marketplace, discussing heatedly what to do next. As they didn’t find and kill the wolf some of them were afraid that the wolf would get revenge the next night when they were all asleep. Some others said they should hunt for another night and then another until they had him. The more religious people were telling anyone who listened that they would never find the wolf because it wasn’t a wolf but the devil itself waiting outside those doors and the only thing they had to do was praying and living a pious life. And the last fraction was adamant that they have to give the wolf a peace offering, something to feed his appetite so he wouldn’t need anyone else.

Jimin had made it just in time for the doors to close behind him and the smile that was still on his lips that he was tracing mindlessly with his fingers was quickly wiped off his face when he saw the gathering. His heart stopped; eyes wide as he searched the crowd. 

“Did something happen again? Hosung!” Jimin hurried over to him, when he saw his figure appearing from the crowd standing amongst the hunters. “Did someone get hurt? In the daylight? Don’t tell me someone…” He snapped around, trying to see if anyone was in pain or bleeding.

“Oh, see who is joining us.” Hosung answered icily, gripping Jimin’s arm to pull him closer. He couldn’t do anything else, not with all these people around. Most of them probably wouldn’t have cared if he punched Jimin again but he didn’t want to drag his personal drama out in the open. He would discuss behind closed doors why it was so difficult for Jimin to stick by a few simple rules. “No one got hurt yet. But we might throw out the old bearded maniac from the red house as an offering to the best to make him forget we tried to kill him.”

“What?” Jimin’s voice toppled over and he stared in absolute disbelief at him. “What are you talking about and… I haven’t been far away, Hosung.” He opened the lid of his basket to proof to the other that he had just collected mushrooms (thankful that he had thought of that lie before as it came in handy now) not far from the village. “Are you completely out of your mind now? You can’t do that!” Jimin whined when the grip around his arm tightened, aware that Hosung didn’t like it when he spoke his mind so freely. “He is old, please. It’s not fair. He won’t stand a chance.”

Hosung looked at him as if he was a child that was to be lectured.

“That’s the whole point of it, Jiminie. When the wolf can feed easily he won’t have to hunt for others. We will start with that man and then maybe we can throw out some meat every once a week. But a wild wolf needs to hunt. So, we better give him something alive the first time we feed him.”

Jimin felt like he was about to faint at what Hosung was hinting at. “Y-you want to…make sacrifices?” His voice was barely audible and Jimin wavered, his knees feeling wobbly as he leaned against Hosung in a weak attempt to steady himself. “How many will it take to make this stop. I just want this to stop.” Jimin felt awfully sick to his stomach, visibly losing all color from his face.

Hosung eyed him again and then he let him go. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here. There are decisions to be made that aren’t for the weak hearted or those who can’t control their emotions. You should go home and rest a little. Or prepare those mushrooms you got? Let’s just forgot about this, I will come home in a bit and we don’t have to talk about this ever again. You won’t have to burden your consciousness with any kind of decision. Just go home, Jimin.”

Jimin absently minded only nodded his head. A barely there motion, because his mind was occupied with horror and screams. He stumbled a little, trying to block out the whispers. In all those years, the village had never sacrificed someone like that. Not without reason to believe he was danger for them. Just like they had done it just a couple of times, casting people out or... once with his own mother. There was a stab in his heart, tears dwelling in his eyes. But back then, they thought the wolf had been gone. It’s fur still being in the proud possession of Hosung’s father ‘till this day. They had burned his mother like a witch and her screams had filled the night. 

Jimin pushed down the door handle, slowly closing the door behind him before he let himself fall against it. He couldn’t let this happen again. There shouldn’t be innocent life taken like that. Who would be next? For how long would they keep doing it? Jimin hid his face in the palm of his hands, shaking with the sobs. Something was so awfully wrong, and he still had no answers. He wished himself back to his grandma so badly, her embrace soothing him more than anything else. But he could hear her voice as well, telling him to go back, to do the right thing. She told him with every visit and each time, Jimin asked what the right thing was, that he didn’t know, and she had just brushed through his hair before laying back down tiredly. 

It had taken a while until Jimin had calmed down and when the bells were ringing, signaling the people to lock themselves inside Jimin stood at the fireplace peeling the potatoes with puffy eyes. He didn’t move when the door unlocked and got locked properly again, startling a little when Hosung placed a kiss on his cheek and making himself a home. The other had been staying at his ever since he found him sneaking back in and Jimin hated every bit of it. Before he had at least some time for himself, being able to use the excuse of them not being married, yet. 

Jimin barely ate from his plate, pushing the food around as he was deep in his thoughts, smiling and nodding whenever Hosung was telling him about something, while he wished himself to be back with Namjoon. “When will you send him out?” Jimin’s voice sounded small, but he dared to hold Hosung’s gaze anyways, “The old man. Did you decide?”

Hosung’s smirk made Jimin shiver and his eyes flickered down to where he reached for his hand around the table, motioning for him to come closer. Jimin followed easily, sitting himself on his lap as he soothed over his dark hair. His blue eyes were piercing through him, dark skin smudged by the dirt from their hunt. His nails were just as dirty, but he let him touch him nonetheless. Hosung was known for his ruthlessness, killing the animal with his own bare hands if he needed to. “Tell me,” Jimin’s voice caught Hosung out of his daze as he let his finger trail own his cheek and neck to his collarbone, pushing the fabric down just enough to place a kiss there. 

Namjoon, Jimin thought. His heart and mind only thought of him. 

“Tomorrow,” His rough voice made Jimin turn his head to look outside the window, where the moon was the only light in the night. 

“But tomorrow is…” A finger on his lips made Jimin shut, before Hosung’s arms wrapped around his waist and he carried him over to his bed, placing him down rather roughly.

“A full moon, yes, Jimin.” Hosung breathed against his neck, “It’s when the wolf is the strongest.” As if it knew that they were talking about it, a howl broke through the night and Jimin’s breath hitched, eyes focused on the nearly full-moon. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll keep you safe and nothing can break us apart. Do you hear me?” Hosung hooked a finger under his chin and turned his head, “Not even the wolf. You’re the safest with me.”

Jimin closed his eyes and let Hosung pull him closer to his body. It wasn’t nearly was warm as Namjoon’s. He felt awful for lying next to someone that his heart didn’t belong to. He had lost it somewhere in the forest already, somewhere with Namjoon. 

Turning away from him, Jimin tried his best to hide the tears from him.

...

When the morning light broke through the village, Jimin felt awful. His head was pounding from the lack of hydration and from how much he had cried. He groaned, feeling Hosung’s weight halfway on him as he tried to wiggle himself free. A chuckle made Jimin stop. “Are you pushing me away again?” Hosung soothed over his cheeks with a smile and Jimin shook his head. “You’re crushing me,” Jimin tried to turn a little more so he could push himself up, “And I hope you know that your father won’t like to know that you spend the night with me again. We’re still…”

“You’ll be mine fully soon. I heard they are preparing the ceremony,” Jimin’s words had been cut off by Hosung, who leaned in so closely, whispering the words into his ear. “Don’t worry about him, my love. He will be happy to know that you’re staying in for your safety, listening well to me.” Something in his voice made Jimin hold his breath and his heart was beating just a little faster, a nervousness in his veins that he couldn’t shake off.

“But tonight...is the...shouldn’t I be there...with you?” Jimin reached out when the other got up from the bed, smiling at him as if he’d been too dumb to understand. He gotten his answer only seconds after when Hosung just left him in his room and the sound of a lock turning made Jimin jump up. 

“Hosung!” Jimin called out for him, knocking at the bedroom door as he tried to push it open. He was kicking and screaming until his voice broke him off. “I told you to follow what I’d say but you can’t listen and tonight you won’t get hurt, nor will you get in between the village decision. You won’t embarrass me tonight. I will come back as soon as it’s done.” 

Jimin cried out helplessly, begging and pleading for him to open up but Hosung was gone already. He sunk to his knees, knocking against the door until he couldn’t keep his arm up anymore. He had hoped to at least be there, to soothe the man, maybe slip in a note to tell him where he could hide, somewhere in the caves that Namjoon showed him. Jimin leaned against the doorframe, staring into nothingness for hours, only getting up to get some of the water that always stood by his bed, only to fall back into a daze. He felt so helpless. 

And he couldn’t warn the old man, nor Namjoon. Jimin could hear the faint noises of the people celebrating, the full moon still covered by a thick grey cloud. He scoffed. It wasn’t a celebration, it was a god damn sacrifice and when he heard the scream of the old man, Jimin knew he was losing time. He needed to do something. Anything. It was then his eyes fell onto something shiny. A butter knife. Jimin sprinted over to retreat it from his bedside table and back to the door. With nervous hands, Jimin pushed the knife into the lock as deep as he could, wiggling it as if it was a key. 

Another scream.

Jimin whined desperately, when it finally clicked and he pushed the small knife between the door and the striker plate, He slid it down until he could find the door’s bolt and finally slid it open. Hastily he grabbed his cloak, pulling it over and locking the door of his bedroom again. Knowing Hosung, Jimin would have enough time to return again as he would celebrate in the tavern until the morning. And even if he found his bedroom empty, then so be it, Jimin thought. 

Running outside, he narrowed his eyes to see from afar if they had already brought the man into the forest, but the doors were already locked and the cloud that hid the moon was slowly move across. Turning on his heel, Jimin ran in between the alleys, climbing up a windowsill on top of a barn, at the house by the fence and jumped. Jimin had pulled himself up this wall many times. He knew exactly how fast he needed to be to make it and how he needed to slide down again. When he stood on the other side though, trying to catch his breath Jimin was frozen and only his eyes were flickering through the dark.

He had absolutely no idea where they could have brought the old man. Hosung hadn’t told him where and when Jimin looked up the moon was shining its light over the forest beautifully and if it wasn’t for the awful situation he found himself in, he would have thought of Namjoon and if he ever would love to look at the moon with him.

He bet his skin would gleam under the light of the moon, Jimin was sure of that.

A horrifying howl echoed through the woods, bringing him back and Jimin began to ran into the only direction he could think of. “The meadow,” He whispered to himself the only plausible answer of where they could have brought the sacrifice. The only open place that was close enough so neither had to stray too far from the village and it would be light enough from the moon for the wolf to see what they brought him. A perfectly presented sacrifice; Jimin was sure that he would find the man there and he could only hope he would be arriving before the beast or whatever it was could take him.

…

Namjoon had used to love full moon nights. When his mother was still alive he knew that even if he couldn’t remember exactly what he had done or what had happened he knew that he had been safe the whole time. His mother had been better at staying kind of conscious and she had told him that in a few years he might be able to do that too, that she would teach him, and he would grow up to be a powerful young wolf. But then she was murdered by the villagers and all the rage and pain that had been pent up inside of him turned him absolutely feral each month. Each day after a full moon he woke up, naked and cold, muscles aching so bad he could barely move and the iron, almost sickeningly sweet taste of blood in his mouth.

He had gotten better at it, if only a little but still he lost time each night the full moon drew the transformation out of him against his will.

…

Jimin was running like a maniac, the cold air was burning his lungs as he struggled for breath, praying to whatever deity there was that he would find the old man unharmed. His red hood ripped on branches, as he pushed himself through the thicket, trying to take the quickest way instead of the safest.

He only came to a halt when he stood at the end of the meadow, eyes wide, chest heaving with every breath he took. His mouth felt dry, but he had no time to think about it when he heard the man’s aching gasps. “No, please.” Jimin stumbled ahead to where he found him bound to the stump of a tree, blood oozing out of small cut wounds all over his body. They must have cut him on purpose to make the beast smell the blood. The man blinked up at him, when Jimin began to pull at his restraints. “It’s okay, I’ll get you out of here and then…and then you…you just run, okay,” Jimin was rambling, voice shaking with every word, “Up to the hills…to…to the caves and you hide there.”

…

Namjoon had found out that it was easier if he didn’t eat that much on the day leading to the full moon night because it was painful and exhausting to change and he had thrown up before, but he also couldn’t go completely hungry or else he would hunt too much. And he preferred to hunt when he was conscious enough to know what and how he was hunting. He took off his clothes and placed them neatly folded over the armrest of his wooden chair before stepping out into the moonlight stark naked. He could feel the pull of the moonlight already before the light even hit his skin. It was like an ache deep within his bones, something pulling at him, ripping on him in all different directions and he groaned when the first joint popped.

He cowered down onto all fours because it made it easier like this as his form was as close to the animal that he would become as he could muster while being human. He tried to loosen his jaw but at the next crack he tightened in involuntary again. He had mastered the art of breathing through his pain and yet it still took over, crashing into him like a wave and taking everything with it that wasn’t the agony he was feeling.

…

Jimin flinched hard when there was an agonizing scream howling through the night and his eyes widened. It didn’t sound human. Rather something in between and he was sure it was the beast. It could only be it.

The old man was whimpering and Jimin tried to soothe him as he cut open the restraints as fast as he could. When the ropes finally fell onto the damp grass below, Jimin almost fell as he hastily tried to whip around and help him up again. “We need to get you out of here,” Jimin’s gaze flickered down to the wounds on the man’s stomach and to his hand that was covered in blood now. “Why…why are you doing this?” The old man’s voice brought him back quickly and Jimin put his arm around his shoulder to steady him. He smiled at him despite the awful situation they were in. “I will explain later, now please…” 

…

When Namjoon was finally fully turned he immediately jumped into motion. The animal in him wanted to get rid of the pain, to ease his suffering, let everything out that he was suppressing or trying to control when he was human. He felt anger and sadness and longing and hunger all at once and it was threatening to take over his mind so he did what he knew would help: letting his instincts take over and hunt.

This night he didn’t even have to search for prey as the wind already brought him a whiff of blood, fresh and mouth wateringly delicious. So he followed it, stretching out his limbs with each jump, straining against the boundaries of his new form to feel his new body in its fullest, to feel alive and free, running away from everything that normally kept his mind in any kind of confinement, be it modesty or social rules or anything really that kept him from his most primal, instinctual urges.

…

The man was almost fully leaning on him and Jimin had a hard time keeping him up, panting with every step. They were too slow, he had to realize that quickly when the howling sound was coming closer. “Shhh, please, be quiet,” Jimin hissed towards the man, trying to be as soundless as possible but with the man whimpering it was a useless task. For a moment, Jimin contemplated if it would be safer to bring the old man to Namjoon to let him take care of his wounds but something else had him completely stilling not letting him end his thought process. With wide eyes, Jimin carefully turned to look over his shoulder, while his heart was threatening to jump out of his ribcage any moment. 

No matter how loud or quiet the two were trying to be Namjoon could smell them anyway and he was quickly closing in on them. When he caught a glimpse of his prey he stopped immediately, his heart making a little leap in his chest from the thrill of anticipation that run through him. He hadn’t one but two meaty pieces in front of him just waiting to be torn down and then ripped into chunks. They would make so many delicious bite sized pieces he would be sated for the next days. He growled threateningly, salivating at the sight of them and getting a thrill out of their fear. 

Jimin fully reacted on instinct as he whipped around and pushed the old man behind him. His breath got caught somewhere in his lungs though when he saw the wolf stepping out of the shadows. He had recognized him immediately and yet, something was off. Jimin met the hungry stare with his own and backed off a little, lips trembling when he realized what was different.

They had lost all their color as if it the shadow itself had sucked in the warm brown eyes he had seen so many times in the woods as they crossed paths. This wasn’t his wolf. No matter how much he seemed like it and the threatening growl made it clear that he was here to rip. 

“I’ll count to three and then you’ll run to the hills, hide there,” Jimin hissed to the old man, who was shaking so much that he felt it in every fiber of his body with how hard he gripped his shoulders. “I’ll be fine…t-trust me.” Very slowly, Jimin backed off a little more, pushing the old man to the side, while keeping his own gaze on the wolf. 

“One,” He began to count, pulling slowly at the strings of his hood, holding onto it tightly, “Two…” Jimin took a deep breath. “…Three.” The moment the old man started running, Jimin threw his red hood towards the wolf, successfully covering its face and giving them enough time to run into opposite directions. 

The delicious smell of blood came from the old man so when they both started to run his initial instinct was to go for that prey. He was glad they tried to run; it made the hunt more exciting because a prey that he didn’t need to chase wasn’t as sweet. He ran at full speed so he could almost jump at them when the other one threw his cloak over his face. The wolf howled in anger, his paws getting tangled in the fabric before he landed in a heap on the floor, blind and struggling. It didn’t took him long for his claws to rip the stupid thing to shreds but it slowed him down enough for his prey to put some distance between them - and it also changed his mind. The old one wouldn’t taste as sweet as the younger - and he had also just spiked his anger up so he would take definitely more joy in catching and devouring him. He stood for a second, shaking with anger before he ripped the last piece of fabric off of his claws and then picked up speed again.

He would get him. That much was sure.

Once again this night Jimin was running like a maniac, jumping over every root and trying to be fast enough to escape. He just needed to be faster, knowing the wolf would quickly regain his posture and be after him. Jimin kept yelling though, until he was sure the wolf was definitely after him and not the old man. Never in his life had he been so fast and never in his life had his heart hurt so much. Jimin didn’t dare to peak over his shoulder, the growls behind him enough to tell him that the wolf was closing in on him. 

The boy was a pretty fast runner and even though it angered him a little that he was outrunning him for a few minutes (because of the head start) he quickly gained on him. No human could outrun a wolf forever especially not when they were so scared. He could hear the younger’s short gasps of breath and felt pride surging through him knowing that he was the one affecting the human so much. He stretched his body a little longer, kicked his paws against the ground a little harder and like this he could almost reach his prey, he was so close, so very close - until his prey suddenly sidestepped him and threw himself into the bushes like his life depended on it. Which it did. He slowed down to change directions and then jumped straight into the bushes after him. 

Jimin knew it was too late, the moment he heard the wolf snapping at him for the first time. He could see the lake; the water was glistening peacefully under the moonlight. He had been so close. So, god damn close. His body moved on instinct as he turned around the moment the wolf jumped and Jimin tried to shield himself as much as he could. 

Namjoon’s name was the last thing that came from his lips. He knew he was close, but no one in his right mind would come out into the forest on a full moon night. No one, but him. 

With a splash the human threw himself into the water and the wolf happily followed. He didn’t have webbing between his toes for nothing so if his little prey had thought water would stop him he had just played himself!

It didn’t stop him one bit - something else did though.

The human yelled something, and it hit him like a blow even though he didn’t quite understand it. It was a word, a strangely familiar one, maybe a name. His name? The wolf growled at the human who looked like a wet mouse all small and dripping and squealing in fear.

A/N: Oh oh oh, Jimin is in a misery right now. Will Namjoon hurt him? Will he recognize his voice? Or will Hosung be near to find and get Jimin out of there to save him from the wolf. Hmm.......

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[youbloodymadgenius]

Along the Silk Road - Broken (Ivar x reader)

(spoiler free!)

A/N: This was requested by @surrendertotheunknown​. Sorry it took me so long! I was very conflicted: smut or not? There’s no smut in this one, but a second - smutty - part is possible. Let me know - all of you - if you’re interested!

I wrote this in English first - the French version on Wattpad is a translation. It’s the first time I’ve done this, but definitely not the last 😉

@inforapound​, you’re the best and the most supportive beta ever! 💖💖💖

Request:

Warnings: Ivar’s inner demons; angst; fluff (?) at the very end.

Words: 2042

So many noises and sounds, colours, smells, scents... All different, all strange…

So many new feels…

Sometimes, like now, it’s so overwhelming it's hard for him to breathe.

Nonetheless, he's grateful for that because it keeps him from thinking. Thinking kills him so he drowns in this world he doesn't understand.

Laughter and smiles. Many smiles. Too many for his restless mind, his tormented soul. Though he can't help smiling back, feeling a little silly.

He feels dizzy.

Screams and exclamations in a language he doesn't comprehend.

Children, dressed in rags, but who seem genuinely happy.

Men with engraved face and tanned skin, shouting from stall to stall, laughing out loud.

Animals like he's never seen before, colorful birds, huge snakes.

And the women… their skin darker than his own, their hazelnut eyes, their long smooth hair… They are so beautiful… Entrancing… Their female curves, the softness of their features, their smooth, delicate faces…

They radiate such tenderness; such kindness…

They are different from the women back in Kattegat. Less muscular, less athletic. They seem to be more genuine, maybe more ingenious too… More truthful than Freyd…

Feeling nauseous at that thought, he forces himself to focus on something else. Unexpected colors, surprising scents. He's looking for anything, truly, to escape from his depressed, troubled mind.

***

"We are going to stay here for one night, maybe two!" Thorsten's rough voice startles him, bringing him back to the present moment. Confused, he blinks several times. "How? Why ?"

"Your cart needs to be fixed. Horses are tired. Men are tired. We all need to rest. We are traveling day and night for so long, Ivar. Even if Bjorn's men are after us, and I doubt it, we can afford at least a proper night's sleep."

Looking at his man, he weighs his options. He'd like to keep moving forward, even without a goal, but he's exhausted. His legs hurt like hel and his back is sore from sleeping on the floor.

Tilting his head, he slightly nods. "Where then?"

"Over there." Pointing to a small farm not far away, Thorsten explains. "The owner is a merchant. He doesn't live there. It was his stepfather's farm I think. When he died, the merchant couldn't bring himself to sell it. Whatever, we're allowed to stay. The guys and I will sleep in the barn. For one more coin, I got you to sleep in the house, in the one room. The barn girl will bring us bread and water."

***

Sitting on the bed, cutting his beard, a sharp blade in his hand, he doesn't see you looking at him from the threshold. Clearing your throat, he raises his head and finally acknowledges your presence as you slowly enter the room.

Never taking his eyes off you, he watches you getting closer to him. Putting on the table next to the bed the heavy tray you're carrying, you point it out, showing him the food you brought in. Some bread, as you master told you, and chicken that you decided to add on your own, thinking the stranger might be someone important since he had been allowed to sleep in the only room.

Glancing quickly around, the crutches and the leg braces you notice against the wall make you realize he's the cripple you heard about earlier. A Viking, it seems. Maybe even a king. You don't really care who he is. The only thing you care about is the sadness in his eyes, so deep that you can hardly bear it. You want, you need to help.

Taking a step forward, you stretch out your hand before putting it on his, both of your hands now grabbing the knife's handle. He freezes, startled and somewhat baffled, unsure of what your intentions are. But he knows you won't harm him. How could you? You're so small, almost frail.

Staring at you, he can see that you're shy but not scared, as you hold his gaze. You gently put your free hand on his messy beard, your eyes asking for permission.

Conflicted, but mostly dumbfounded; that's exactly how he feels.

The old Ivar would have pushed you away, frightened you, surely even threatened. But he's not that man anymore. Or a king. Or a god. He's barely Ivar. He's a stranger, a runaway. A nobody. That's who he is now. A nobody. A nobody deprived of human touch for so long, craving immensely for your kindness, your gentleness and the warmth radiating from your hand resting on his.  

Giving in, allowing himself to be weak, he eventually nods at you quietly and you sit down on the bed, next to him, smiling tentatively. Allowing you to take the blade, he closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out a sigh before resting his hands on his lap.

"Y/N." Whispering, you're almost startled by your own voice.

Words are useless, as you don't know his language and he doesn't know yours. Nevertheless, you feel the need to bond with him; to break his loneliness, even in the slightest way.

His eyes wide open, looking at you bewilderingly, he furrows his brows. "Y/N." Blushing shyly, you keep repeating yourself, your index finger pointing at yourself. "Y/N." One more time.

Suddenly his face brightens, a faint smile curling up his mouth. Mimicking your gesture, his hands points at his own chest. "Ivar."

You nod, showing him you understand, before repeating softly, "Ivar." His smile widens slightly, not even reaching his eyes, but it's enough, you don't need more.

Raising the knife, you release a breathe and get to work cautiously.

***

As so often, he doesn't sleep, fighting his own slumber. Tossing and turning in bed, he sighs heavily, trying to chase away the awful memories from his mind.

Baldur…Freydis... Joined lately by Sigurd.

They are haunting him, endlessly. It's easier during the day. But at night, he's alone. If he falls asleep, it's only to be woken by nightmares. Horrific nightmares. Worse than any he's ever had. Worse than his mother's death. Worse than the shipwreck. Terrifying to the point he doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't know how much longer he can bear to relive their deaths, over and over again. So, he doesn't sleep, racked with guilt.

Exhausted. Exhausted and in pain. That's how he feels, how he is. The sharp physical pain is often overwhelming. He's used to it. Mental pain, on the other hand… He's never felt anything like this before, even when his mother and father died. For the first time in his life, there's no anger left. Just guilt. And an infinite sadness that consumes him day after day, night after night, hour after hour… He doesn't know how to cope.

As he sits in bed, his back resting against the wall, a single tear runs down his cheek.

***

It's far from dawn but you're already busying yourself, making bread for Ivar and his men, who will leave, or not, in a few hours. Either way, they'll be starving when they wake.

"Ivar.” A whisper. You love the way his name rolls off your tongue. "Ivar…"

His huge, dejected eyes haunting your mind, you can't stop thinking about him. What has he been through? Why such grief? You lose your train of thought as you hear a muffled noise. Sobs. There's no one else here, so it has to be him.  

Grabbing a candle while rushing toward the room, you poke your head around the half-open door. There he is, crying.

Getting closer, you clear your throat so he'll notice you're there. Looking up slowly at you, tears streaming down his cheeks, his puffy eyes meet yours but you're not sure he sees you. But you can see. The sadness in his gaze seems excruciating. You want to help. You need to.

Without a second thought, you grasp the cloth you left earlier on the table, soaking it into a water bucket intended for his morning wash.

"Ivar." Whispering, you sit down next to him on the makeshift bed, wiping his face gently. A simple gesture, the one your mother used to make when you had a bad dream. At first, he doesn't react, his breathing uneven, his features contracted.

Hoping to soothe him, you put a hand on his chest, still whispering his name as he rocks his head slowly from side to side, sobbing.

"Shh… Ivar…"

All of a sudden, he finally gazes into your eyes, grabbing your wrists. You startle but don't have time to be scared, as he starts talking, his words rushed.

"I am so tired, Y/N. I'm tired of being in pain. I'm tired of being myself. A failure." Hiccupping, he swallows. When he speaks again, it's in a shaky voice. "A… a monster. That's who I am. I killed them. I loved them and yet I killed them. How… How am I supposed to live? I… I should have let Bjorn kill me. I can't anymore. I can't, Y/N."

Ivar's face crumbles as violent sobs wrack his body and make it seem like he might shake apart.

You may not understand his words, but you know what it is. Loneliness. Despair. Torment. Suffering. This man is lost. Distraught. Hopeless. Broken.

"Ivar…” You wish you could tell him it is going to be okay. But you cannot. Because you don't speak his language, clearly; and you don't know that for sure, not wanting to lie.

Therefore, you do the only thing you can. Stretching out your hand, you pull him into your chest, wrapping your arms around him, hoping to provide comfort. He doesn't fight back, leaning forward, his head on your shoulder, his tears on your dress.

He cries for what seems like forever, and you let him. One hand on his back, the other in his hair, humming a lullaby, you gently cradle him.

Finally, he calms down, pulling away, his swollen eyes full of gratitude and you smile before softly stroking his face. His skin is warm beneath your palm. Your lips graze his cheek as your hand faintly squeezes his arm.  His slight smile warms your heart as much as it relieves you. He feels better now and you can leave.

Barely moving away from him, his hand grasp yours, preventing you from going.

"Stay."

You don't know the words, but the silent prayer in his eyes is unmistakable, perfectly clear. Sighing to yourself, you cannot deny him.

Closing your eyes, thinking for a moment about your chores, already well underway, you eventually nod and are rewarded with a smooth smile. Shifting in the bed, Ivar adjusts his legs, wincing briefly before lying down, silently requesting you to do the same as one of his hands softly grabs your arm.

"Please, hold me tight, Y/N.” Begging eyes, hesitant voice, he seems almost scared, like a little boy, reminding you of Babak, your baby brother. If you needed it, this sweet memory is enough to convince you.

You slip without a doubt into the sheets and lie down, careful not to touch his legs but he immediately draws you close, his powerful arms lifting you up like you're a twig.

"Thank you." Whispering, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, silent tears returning as you wrap your arms around him once again. "Shh… Ivar….”

Tightening his grip, you can feel him relaxing, holding you tight as if wanting your bodies to melt together. You are sure that tomorrow your skin's will be bruised showing the signs of his need for you. It doesn't matter.  Tonight, only Ivar matters. It's all about him.

Humming once more, a chill goes down your spine as he awkwardly croons, apparently pleased with you. Yet, he soon falls silent, allowing you to get lost in the beauty of the moment. The peacefulness is nearly exhilarating, putting a smile of hope on your lips. Everything is fine. And maybe Ivar will be fine, too.

Eventually, his breathing gets deeper, slow and steady. One arm across your chest, his head on your shoulder and your legs intertwined, he's finally sleeping.

"شببخیرایوار"

Muttering, you kiss his forehead before closing your eyes. For now, he's fine.

🛡⚔️🛡

A/N: " شببخیرایوار"= Good night, Ivar"

@gearhead66​ @lisinfleur​ @honestsycrets​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @readsalot73​

[bouwrites]

Maribat March 2020 Prompt: Coffee Shop

Week 4, Day 3.

Maribat March 2020 Calendar.

Day 1: Sweetheart’s Dance, Day 2: Soulmate, Day 4: Roommates.

Ao3.

2185 words. Story under read-more.

Jon is not having a good day. It’s one thing when he’s woken up at 2am by Damian dragging him out the window to whatever godforsaken mission they have to handle at that particular moment. He’s used to that. It’s another thing when the mission runs well into the morning and he has a math test just a few hours later that very day. Jon is, again and unfortunately, used to it.

But it’s another thing entirely when that happens three days in a row and someone still insists on survival training. As if this entire week hasn’t been an exercise in survival. Well if I’m going to survive one more minute, Jon thinks, grumpily, I need coffee.

Naturally, in the moment he needs it most, there’s a line. A long one. That’s just his luck.

Regardless, as he stands in line at the little coffee shop, Jon does his best to tune out the rest of the world. He’s saved it enough the past three days. Now is coffee time. The world can wait.

That said, as he slowly approaches the counter, he does perk up a bit. Maybe it’s spending some quiet time with nothing to drag his attention away, or maybe it’s just proximity to his next few hours of energy, but he feels a little less dead, and pays a little more attention.

“Espresso.” The lady in front of him says. Her voice is accented, French, he thinks, but that’s not why Jon almost cringes at the sound of it. That is a lady having a bad day. “But, like, a full cup of it.”

Oh, mood. This lady should never meet Tim, though. Jon thinks idly, as the cashier hesitates just a moment before asking her what size cup. When she points to the one she wants, what’s happening suddenly catches up to Jon. Wait, that’s a lot of espresso. Is that safe? Is that legal?

Lady, are you okay?

Jon is trying to maintain his composure has the lady walks away and he quickly orders his own drink. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, sees her collapse in a seat in the corner.

She’s cute, for what it’s worth. Small and undeniably pretty, despite the clear exhaustion on her frame. Decked out in light pastel colors, she gives the impression of a bright, friendly girl. Except… she looks miserable.

Jon frowns, watching her. He can’t help but wonder what could possibly have happened to her to land her in this state. He wants to know what the problem is, because he wants to help, because she looks like she needs help, but… they’re just customers at a coffee shop. What’s he supposed to do? Besides, in addition to misery, she also has a very distinct “leave me alone or else” aura about her that makes Jon doubt the safety of approaching her. Is it more heroic to save her from… this, or to know when to tap out and let things happen?

Right, right. Good people get involved. But in coffee?

You know this is more than coffee. Maybe you can just… lend an ear? If she doesn’t bite it off.

Jon sighs, cursing his own nature and the parents who raised him to be this way. Too damn helpful for my own good. Okay, here we go. He does wait until he and the lady both have their coffee before he bothers her, but once he retrieves his cup he makes his way over to her corner table.

“Uh, hey there. Sorry to bother, I just… are you alright?”

The lady looks up at him, unimpressed, with dead eyes. They focus in on him slowly, but once they do, they hold an unquestionable intelligence that only makes Jon further doubt this decision. “M’fine.” She mutters.

Jon bites his lip. The dismissal is pretty clear, but still… “If you say so. Your, uh, drink says otherwise, though.”

The lady moves her eyes slowly to the coffee on the table, then back to him. “Busy week.” She says.

Jon chuckles. “I hear that. I’ve been running ragged this week. Something tells me mine,” he gestures to his own cup of coffee, and then to hers, “isn’t quite so bad as yours, though.”

The lady huffs a small laugh. “Maybe.” As she examines him more closely, Jon smiles for her. After a moment, she lets out an amused hum. “Do you often talk to strangers at a coffee shop?”

Jon pretend to think for a moment. “No offense, but you looked miserable. Like you might need some company. And honestly? I could, too.” He says seriously. Then, he adds, gesturing again to her drink, “Plus, I have to at least ask the story behind that.”

The lady hums again, and then sighs heavily. “I suppose you’re not wrong. Go ahead and sit. I won’t bite if you don’t.”

“Thanks. I’m Jon, by the way.”

“Marinette.”

“Marinette.” Jon echoes. “That’s such a pretty name! Definitely isn’t the kind of name I’d think would order that monstrosity.”

Marinette scoffs playfully. “Keep teasing and you can drink your coffee on your own.”

Jon laughs. “Alright, I hear you. No teasing. Coffee is very serious business. Especially when we’re trying to overdose on caffeine.”

“That’s still teasing, Jon.” Marinette sticks her tongue out at him. “Keep pushing your luck.”

Giggling, Jon does his best to regain control of himself. Despite how friendly she is being and how easily they slip into banter, they’re still strangers. Jon doesn’t want to overstep. That’s enough teasing for now. “So, bad week?”

Marinette groans. “You could say that. You?”

Jon nods. “Just been one thing after another. My friend, best friend, really, I love him, you know? But sometimes he’s just…” He sighs. “He can be hard to deal with. He means well, but it’s tiring being dragged unprepared into all the wacky situations he gets us in.”

Marinette pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh, tell me about it. My best friend is the exact same way.” Jon grins at her, at the thing they have in common, but notices quickly how her expression darkens. “She was, anyway.”

“Oh.” Jon blinks, taken aback. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Marinette shakes her head. Idly twirling a pigtail, she says, “Not like that. I’m probably overreacting, but sometimes it feels like we’re… drifting apart, I guess. It’s not a big deal.”

“Drifting apart? Why’s that?”

Marinette narrows her eyes at him, as if trying to find something in him. Eventually she shakes her head again. “I suppose it can’t hurt… This girl we both know; she tells a lot of stories. Lies to make herself look good, that kind of thing. She just does it for attention, I think, but if someone calls her out, she gets malicious. My best friend, she considers this liar a friend. I… don’t. To say the least. It’s been… straining. Even without the liar trying to spread nasty rumors about me.”

“Ooh, yikes.” Jon says, grimacing. “I’ve met people like that. They suck.”

That brings the smile back to Marinette’s face. “Yeah, they really, really do. So far, my best friend hasn’t believed any of the bad stuff the liar says about me – she’s still a good friend to me and all that, I just… worry, I guess.”

“Understandably. Sounds like she believes her on the lesser stuff, so…”

Marinette nods solemnly. “Yeah. No matter what I say, she just seems to refuse to believe this liar is lying to her. It’s almost like she can do no wrong and that’s just…”

“That’s frustrating.” Jon says, earning her agreement. “It does sound like your friend could use some, uh… better judgement? But, I don’t think trusting in people is a bad mistake to make. If you’ll let a stranger give you advice, I think you probably just need to arrange some best friend time. Spend more time together without that liar, then you won’t feel like you’re losing her, because you’ll be spending more time together, but also you’ll be keeping her closer to your chest where the liar can’t reach her.”

Marinette quirks her brow at him. “That’s… borderline devious.”

Jon shrugs, smugly sipping his coffee. Damian isn’t his best friend for no reason, after all. If he didn’t have the head for at least basic plans before, Damian has drilled that out of him long ago. “Of course, I don’t know how often you hang out now or how much free time you have, but that’s what I think.”

Marinette purses her lips. “It almost sounds like you think I should try to beat her at her own game.”

Jon raises his brow, watching her. “Well, is her game lying, or taking your friends away from you?”

“Both.” Marinette says simply.

“And she’s doing that on purpose?”

“Definitely. She threatened me when I first called her out, said she’d take my friends and leave me all alone.”

Jon puts his cup back on the table. Hearing that cuts into him strangely deep, and he can feel anger on Marinette’s behalf begin bubbling. From the way she talks about this liar, Jon assumes the other girl is being malicious, but to actively threaten and try to isolate someone? That kind of bullying pisses him off. All bullying does, but Marinette seems like such sweet girl he just can’t stand the thought of that happening to her. “I see.” Jon says. Marinette sits a bit straighter, looking alarmed. Jon knows his voice is a bit colder than it should be. “Then definitely beat her at her own game. Don’t lie, of course, and don’t wear yourself out – I’m honestly not sure if it’s safe to drink that thing even once – but if you can, you got to do what you got to do, you know?”

Marinette frowns. “You really think so?”

“Sure. And worst comes to worst, you take the liar behind the bleachers and send her the way of Ol’ Yeller.” Jon says it jokingly, but a small part of him is legitimately protective of this girl he just met.

“Jon!” Marinette exclaims. “No!”

He laughs, which starts her laughing, and the atmosphere is suddenly so much lighter again. “Aw, I didn’t mean it. But you’re seriously, like, such a cool girl! I’ve only known you for ten minutes and even I can tell you’re awesome. I really don’t think you have much to worry about. If your friends have any brains, they’ll never let someone like you go.”

Marinette’s cheeks flush pink as she ducks her head. “You really… think that?” She asks quietly.

“Of course, I do! You’re funny, so darn easy to talk to – I mean come on, we met ten minutes ago – you’re smart, cute… if you survive that thing you might be immune to caffeine, too, so that’s pretty cool. No one in their right mind would leave you behind for anything.”

Marinette giggles, though her face only grows redder. “You cannot tell that by just ten minutes of conversation.” She says.

“Sure, I can!” Jon protests. “You’re awesome! And don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise!”

“Ahaha, you’re weird, you know that?” Marinette says. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

Jon shrugs. “My dad always tells me that good people get involved. You looked like you were having a bad day, so I thought maybe I could help. That’s all. I promise I don’t normally talk to strangers when I’m getting my coffee.”

Marinette giggles. “Well, I’m glad you talked to me. I was having a bad day, but… I think today’s going to be good after all.”

“That’s the spirit!”

They laugh and talk until Marinette’s phone chimes and she sighs. “I’m sorry,” She says, “I’ve got to go.”

“No worries.” Jon says. “I hope you keep having good days.”

Marinette smiles at him for a moment and then, biting her lip, she ducks her head cutely. “Hey, uh, before I go… this might be weird, but could I have your number? I… actually really had a lot of fun. Maybe we can meet up again sometime?” Gaining more confidence, she jokes, “And you can complain to me instead, this time.”

Jon grins. “Sure thing. I’d love to see you again!” He quickly enters his number in her phone and hands it back to her. “Message me any time. Oh! And keep me updated on the liar.”

Marinette giggles. “I will. Thanks, Jon. I… I needed this. I’ll see you later.”

Watching her walk away, Jon sighs. “See you.” He says softly.

It’s been a strange morning, that’s for sure, but that girl is totally worth it all. Jon can’t be sure she’ll actually follow up with him – though it was her idea – but even so, she’s something special. Jon is glad to have even this short morning with her, and he hopes the rest of her life is as beautiful as she deserves.

And has just a little less caffeine. I cannot believe she drank that whole thing. I will never let her meet Tim.

[miruka-cioccolata]

“What if a reader accidentally hits one of the La Squadra boys with her car? Instead of calling for a ambulance, she freaks out and puts them in her car and drives home and attempted to care for them?” - asked by @jashin-priestess

Ohh, this was a fun one to write! I’m sorry for the wait, but I made it extra long this time~ thank you for sending in that request! ^^

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto Nero:

You still don’t know how exactly you managed to do it, but apparently the shock made you develop superhuman abilities, because somehow you placed the huge 2-meter man you accidently ran over into the back of your car and drove back to your home with him.  

While you were preparing some cooling pads for his broken leg and bruises, you suddenly feel an icy shiver running down your spine. Turning around slowly, you almost drop the ice with a loud shriek: The man you had placed onto the floor just a few minutes ago in order to tend to his wounds is now kneeling in front of you with a knife in his hand that he points straight at your throat. His gaze out of red eyes resting inside pitch black sclerae is piercing right through you.

“Tell me. Where am I?”, the silver-haired man asks calmly and yet the underlying threat in his dark voice is undeniable. You swallow down an anxious cry and gather together all your courage to answer: “I…I brought you home since I kinda, uhm…I hit you with my car and I wanted to help you. I think yo…your leg is broken.”

For a moment the man keeps on staring at you, before his crimson eyes wander down to his wounded leg. Apparently, he didn’t even realize that he was injured until now.

Seeing him lowering his knife, you feel a confidence bubbling up inside you again and you finally allow yourself to take a deep, steady breath.

“Sorry for not taking you to a hospital”, you mumble, “but I sorta freaked out when I saw the blood on the tires, and I couldn’t even think clearly anymore so I brought you back to my place. I hope it’s okay…yeah?”

The man’s strange eyes still scare you, but despite his intimidating appearance, you move closer to him in order to have a better look on his injuries. His muscles visibly tense when you approach him, but he holds back with any movements. Apparently, he has concluded that you are of no danger to him, so he lets you take care of his leg with the cooling pads.

Some time afterwards the man even decides to break the ear-crushing silence between you two by saying: “Why are you helping me?”

“I feel really bad about the accident”, you respond in shame, “so I want to take care of your wounds. Really, it’s the least I can do.”

Risotto stares at you a tad longer in taciturnity before giving you a short nod.

“Thank you.”

 Prosciutto:

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god”, you mumble like a mantra under your breath as you try to carry the man you just hit with your car into your living room. Momentarily, you are simply glad that he isn’t that heavy so that it is easy for you to lay him down safely onto your sofa. The blonde groans lowly, eyes shut tight from the pain visibly coursing through his body.

“I am so sorry. I just…I didn’t see you standing there, really, It was so dark and when I noticed you, I hit the brakes too late, and I-“

Your mouth comes to a halt when you receive an angry glare out of blue eyes.

“Why did you bring me to your home then instead of the hospital? Aren’t you afraid of letting a stranger in without even knowing if he is dangerous or not? I could do horrible things to you and you wouldn’t even have the slightest chance to defend yourself! How fucking naïve can you be?”

The man’s words might have been harsh, but there was a concerned undertone in his voice, something akin to the scolding of a teacher. Upon seeing the intimidation present on your face, the blonde lets out a deep sigh.

“Well, it is how it is”, he says with much less vigour than before. “The hospital would have probably been a bad choice anyway. Too risky.”

You look at the stranger, questioningly tilting your head at his remark.

“None of your business.”

He presses his fists into the cushion of the sofa with clenched teeth to get himself into a sitting position, trying to carefully rest his leg onto the pillow you had fetched him earlier from your bedroom. You help him with the whole ordeal the best you possibly can.

During the crushing silence between you two, you finally ask: “So, uhm, your name is…?”

A stern look is thrown your way and you already brace yourself for a chiding retort, but instead he really does answer your question – his name is Prosciutto. How weird.

“Don’t worry, I am going to care for you until you can walk again. It’s the least I can do to make up for the accident”, you say to him while you put some cooling ointment onto his injuries.

Prosciutto opens his mouth to respond, but then closes it again after a moment of overthinking. Surely, he wanted to reprimand you again for your gullibility, however, he decided to let it slide. After all, he really could need some assistance with his wounds for now.

Formaggio:

“Okay so, you are…ouch-!”

“Sorry!”, you say as you dab the cotton drenched in alcohol onto the man’s wound. It would certainly not leave a scar (you think), but nevertheless you need to disinfect it.

“Ngh, never mind, I put up with worse in the past”, the man with the buzzcut says, flashing you a cocky grin, one that quickly melds into a pained grimace when the burning disinfectant meets his bruised skin.

“I gotta say though that I’ve never been the victim of a car accident. There’s a first time for anything, huh?”

You look at him – the man who had introduced himself as Formaggio to you earlier – in shock and you wonder how he is able to laugh at a time like this. Especially since you could have killed him right then and there with your car.

“I am sorry”, you repeat yourself, lowering your head in shame. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? I’ll treat your injuries the best I can, and you can stay here until you feel better. It’s the least I can do.”

Formaggio nods at your words, letting himself fall back into the sofa’s cushion with a yawn.

“Alright then, fine by me! But don’t be too good at your job cuz I could get used to a personal nurse!”, he says with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Illuso:

You tried to be careful – really! – and yet you still handled his ankle too roughly, making the injured man on your couch cry out in pain.

“Fuck, can you be a little more careful perhaps!?”, he snaps at you.

“S-sorry”, you mumble in response, feeling even worse when you notice the man is grinding his teeth in agony from your treatment. “Can I do anything for you?”

“Yeah, there really is something you could do for me…say, do you have a mirror somewhere?”

You blink, confused about his request.

“Uhm, yes, it’s hanging right there-“

Illuso follows the pointing of your finger with his eyes, looking quite content.

“Ah yes, perfect. I mean…could you get me a glass of water?”

Nodding, you move into the kitchen to fetch the man some water, but once you return to the living room, you draw in a sharp breath.

He…he is gone!

Frantically you look around your living room for the slightest trace of the strange man with the dark pigtails, but there is no trace of him, none at all! It’s as if Illuso had only been a…well, an illusion.

Suddenly, you hear a small noise, something akin to a huff of exertion or pain coming from the mirror that hangs on the wall next to the sofa. Huh, how weird. Maybe you had just imagined that sound, your nerves were still playing tricks on you apparently.

 Pesci:

You watch the man on your couch anxiously as he tries to stretch his leg, only for him to let it drop back onto the cushion of your sofa with a yelp.

“Moving hurts too much”, he groans, trying to fight back tears from the seething pain radiating from his injured limb.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there crossing the street and it was too late for the brakes to work”, you try to explain yourself, the guilt of your careless action making you sick to the stomach.

“Why didn’t you get me to a hospital then?”, the man asks, looking up at you with a pang of fear. “What a-are you gonna do with me now?”

“Well, I just kinda freaked out and then took you back to my place. Don’t worry, really, I’m just trying to help you!”, you add quickly when you notice that the man – Pesci was his name, if you recall correctly – eyed you with apparent fear, his hands slightly trembling.

“I’ll make sure to make you feel alright again! It’s my fault after all that you got involved in a car accident after all.”

Pesci gives you an uncertain look, clearly not too sure how to react to your offer. “That is, uhm, nice. I think. Thank you…” 

Melone:

You could almost cry from relief when the stranger on your couch finally opens his eyes. Well, it’s just one eye if you were exact, because his other eye was covered by a translucent mask and a curtain of lilac hair.

“Where am I?”, he asked, his voice still a bit drowsy. You couldn’t blame him for that, after all he had just woken up from an unpleasant encounter with the bumper of your car.

“You are in my house. I brought you here after I, uhm, after I hit you with my car”, you say, the last few words added very, very quietly. The man blinks two, three times, before he tries to sit up, only to sink back into the cushion when he feels the sizzling pain in his leg.

“Ah, I see”, is his only comment to the whole situation.

The man seems to contemplate about something, the gears in his heads working in pregnant silence, before he finally says: “Melone.”

“Huh?”

You stare at the man in confusion. Melone? Was he hungry or something?

“That´s my name. I think you ought to know now that I am already here in the security of your home.”

The man with the lilac hair looks up to you, his turquois eye throwing an attentive gaze at you.

“I presume you are intending to care for me then? Since you didn’t get me to a hospital for medical treatment?”

Well, he had a point! Panic had overtaken you the moment you decided to take the injured man back to your home instead of getting him proper treatment. So, you simply nod as response to his question.

“Di molto!”

Melone’s mouth curves upwards into a sly smile and suddenly you feel like taking this stranger into your home wasn’t a very good idea.

“You know what, I think I prefer your treatment over the hospital. You are the cutest nurse I have ever had the pleasure to meet!”

Ghiaccio:

“Why didn’t you get me to a fucking hospital? You hit me with your goddamn car!”

The loud voice of the man currently perched on your sofa makes you wince. Apparently, he isn’t all too familiar with the concept of ‘indoor voice’.

“I’m…I’m sorry, everything was just a bit much for me and you ran across the street without looking and I couldn’t stop the car in time and I panicked and then I-“

“Listen, I don’t need you telling me in detail how you fucking RAN ME OVER! It just happened an hour ago and I remember”, the blue haired man tried to sit up, but recoiled in pain when he tried moving his broken foot, “I fucking remember it well…”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry”, you blurt out again for what feels like the hundredth time. In a fit of panic, you had tried to tend to the stranger’s wounds by yourself – a terrible idea in retrospective.

The snarling man on your sofa had grudgingly introduced himself as Ghiaccio and you truly couldn’t be mad at his foul mood, considering that you were the reason for his current predicament.

However, the prospect of you taking care of him until he could properly walk again was at first met with an iron resistance (and a plethora of excessive cursing), after a while Ghiaccio seemed to accept that he didn’t really have much of a choice anyway.

“Trust me, I will treat you well!”, you assure him.

His response hits you like a frosty blizzard: “I hope for your sake that you fucking will or else you’re gonna regret it.”

[emybain]

White Rose

I couldn't muster enough energy to edit this, so I apologize in advance for any typos, etc. I thought I was doing okay until the end, and that’s when I started breaking down. This is my second fic that focuses on Georgia Rawles (my eternal queen). I’ve been wanting to write this for a while now, so im also sorry for the angst. just as a warning, there is death and loss of family members/loved ones in this. 

    There were only a handful of people left in the cemetery, all of them chatting quietly amongst themselves. Adrian watched as Kasumi Hasegawa pulled Tamaya Rae into a hug. They were both gripping balled up tissues in their fists, so crumpled that they were beginning to tear. Adrian wondered if they had been clutching the same tissues all day. Probably not, judging from how they both could barely keep it together for more than five minutes at a time. 

    He turned his head back around, slouching in his chair. Immediately, he heard his mom’s voice in his head, telling him to sit up, or else he would get a hunchback like that villain in one of the old movies she had from when she was a kid. But he wasn’t sure if he could muster the strength to sit properly. Not today. 

    Adrian Rawles was only seven years old, and he didn’t know how to deal with loss. Especially this kind of loss. Death was a concept that his mom had never fully explained to him; she usually told him not to worry about things like that. He was scared, confused, and above all, he felt as if something had been dug out of his chest, leaving him hollow inside. Empty.

    When Uncle Hugh had shown up at Adrian’s and his mom’s apartment late one night last week, Adrian hadn’t understood why he was so upset. He had woken Adrian up with unshed tears in his eyes, and told him to grab whatever he might think he need as he went and told Adrian’s babysitter she could go home. Then, Hugh took Adrian and his small bag full of a few toys and a stuffed animal back to his own apartment. Adrian had questioned the whereabouts of his mom repeatedly, and grew frustrated when Hugh didn’t answer him. It wasn’t until they were at his apartment that Hugh finally told him what had happened: his mother was not coming home; she had been killed by an Anarchist.

    “You remember the Anarchists, right, Adrian?” Hugh had asked gently as Adrian stared at the floor of the car. “The bad guys?”

    Adrian had nodded silently. He knew his mother and the rest of his aunts and uncles, the Renegades, were the good guys, and that they fought the villains known as the Anarchists. Hugh continued to tell him how she was on her way to a special mission she was assigned to when it happened, but Adrian barely registered any of it. He remembered how first his fingers went numb, and then gradually, the rest of his body. Mom had told him before she left earlier that night that when she got home, she would tuck him in properly and kiss him goodnight, like how she did every night. 

    But she didn’t.

    Since that night, that horrible nightmare that was in fact reality, Adrian had been staying with his Uncle Hugh and his husband, Adrian’s other uncle, Simon. Their apartment was different than Adrian’s home. He had barely gotten any sleep in their guest room, which was smaller than Adrian’s room and doubled as an office. It didn’t feel right to go to sleep without saying goodnight to his mom and receiving her hugs and kisses. 

    “You haven’t given your mother her rose yet, Adrian.” Adrian looked up to meet the sad eyes of his Uncle Simon, then back down at the white rose between his fingers. Everyone close to his mom had been given similar roses to place on her casket before it was lowered into the ground, and Adrian was the only one who hadn’t given his up yet. He shrugged one shoulder, back folding in even more. 

    Simon sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know today has been hard for you, Adrian. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” When Adrian didn’t respond, he continued. “No child should ever have to lose a parent.”

    They sat in silence for what seemed like hours. Adrian kept his eyes trained on the laid out turf flooring beneath him, refusing to let the pooling tears in his eyes fall. He had already cried too much today, though he tried to hide it from everyone else. It was important that he keep a brave face for everyone; it’s what his mom would’ve done. 

    “If I give up the rose,” Adrian began, voice hoarse despite him having barely spoken all day, “then she’ll really be gone, and I’ll be all alone.”

    Simon’s hold on his shoulder tightened, and he pulled the young boy closer. “You’re not alone, son, and you never will be. Don’t you ever think that, okay?”

    Adrian shied away from Simon’s hold. He swiped at his eyes angrily. “But I am, Uncle Simon,” he said harshly. “My mom is dead, and my dad...my dad might as well be dead, too. He wasn’t even at the funeral.”

    It had been a pointless wish for Adrian to hope that a man would show up at his mom’s funeral, that he would search the room until his eyes landed on Adrian, and Adrian would think of how familiar he looked. It was stupid of Adrian to think that this man would approach him and introduce himself, and then tell him that he was Adrian’s father and that he was going to take care of him from now on. But Adrian had wandering eyes throughout the funeral, despite his distress, and he never found this man. He was crushed; his father, whoever he may be, truly didn’t care about him or his mom. Adrian remembered his mom once telling him, when Adrian had asked about his dad, that his dad just wasn’t ready for a life with prodigies, and that he hadn’t been absent from Adrian’s life because he didn’t care about his son. Before, Adrian had believed her comforting words, if only to hold onto the thread of hope that he had a loving father somewhere out there, and that this man would return one day. Now, he knew better. 

    “Your father is no dad.” Out of the corner of his eye, Adrian saw Simon shake his head. “I’m sorry he didn’t show up, Adrian, but that’s not what I meant. You still have dozens of people who care about you, dozens of people who love you. Hugh and I are your godparents, and we’re taking you in, for now, at least. We will understand if you would rather live with someone else in the future, but for now, it is our responsibility to you and your mother to raise you as our own from now on, and we’ll gladly do it because we loved your mother and we love you, okay?” Again, Adrian didn’t answer. Simon sighed tiredly. 

    “Your mother was an incredible person, Adrian. She was brave, intelligent, funny, and above all of that, she was one of the kindest people I have ever met. I see her in you so much, and that’s proof that she will never truly be gone. She will live on inside of you, but you have to make sure that happens.” Adrian peeked up at him then, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can guarantee that she is watching over us right now, too. Do you want to know how I know that?” Adrian nodded, chin beginning to tremble. “Because she’s too stubborn to leave us alone.” For the first time that day, Adrian’s lip curled up on one side. It was only slight, though. “Even when she would leave you with a babysitter for her work, she would constantly check in and see how you were doing. She hated leaving you at home, and I know she hates that she can’t be by your side right now. You were her world, son, and she will continue to check up on you for the rest of your life.”

    Adrian dropped his gaze down again. Simon patted his back gently, staying with him for a moment before getting up. “When you’re ready, just find me or Hugh, alright?” 

    And then he was gone, leaving Adrian alone with his thoughts. 

    A gust of wind blew through the canopy tent where Adrian sat before his mother’s casket. He thought back to earlier that day during the funeral and how many people had shown up. It had been in a small church, yes, but there had been people lined up along the back walls, people that Adrian had never seen before in his life. He guessed he had never realized how important his mom was to others than just him.

    He had insisted on being a pallbearer, after he had asked Hugh earlier that morning what it meant upon hearing it come up in conversation. While he was too small to handle that, something that annoyed Adrian, Hugh allowed him to walk with the pallbearers, specifically beside Hugh and Simon, as they carried his mom. It had been a strange experience, but Adrian couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else; he had been attached to his mom’s hip since he was born, and he was going to keep it that way for as long as possible. Foreign faces became sympathetic at the sight of him walking with his mom, strangers offered their condolences and apologies all day, whatever condolences even meant. 

    Adrian looked back over his shoulders, eyes landing on Hugh and Simon, who were standing together with a man and a woman that Adrian didn’t know. His gaze wandered to the sunny day, the blue sky and fluffy clouds. It wasn’t fitting for a funeral. 

    He twisted back around to face the casket. Tamaya, his mom’s old roommate and fellow Renegade, picked it out. It was white with gold trim and decorated with lilies here and there, his mom’s favorite flower. Slowly, Adrian stood up, gripping the white rose between his trembling hands. He made his way to the casket slowly; each step was painful. When he reached the casket, he let out a slow breath, ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes. He placed a hand on the side. Just barely. Simon was right. His mom would always be watching over him because that’s who she was. And Adrian would make sure that she would live on, that she wouldn’t be forgotten. 

    “If...if you’re really out there,” Adrian mumbled, sniffling. He wiped at his face with his shirt sleeve. It had been the same one he wore to Hugh and Simon’s wedding a while back. Once holding a happy memory, now not so much. “I love you, Mom. You tucked me in for so long,” his throat caught on his words as his chin trembled greatly, “now...now it’s time for me to tuck you in.” Tears fell freely down his face and to the ground. Closing his eyes, Adrian reached his hand forward and set the rose down on the casket, on top of the others. 

    Feeling himself finally break for the first time since Hugh had told him what happened a week ago, Adrian Rawles laid his head in his arms on top of the casket and cried.

[nicolasnelson]

Hosie & Sizzie fic - Tabula Rasa

Title: Tabula Rasa Relationships: Hope/Josie, Sebastian/Lizzie, MG/Kaleb Additional Tags: Memory Magic, Inspired by Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Humor, Misunderstandings, Kissing, First Kiss, Getting Together, Monster Hunters Chapters: 1/3 Words: 3,631

Summary: Hope does a memory spell to make everyone forget her again. Problem is, they forget who they are and that magic exists. Meanwhile monsters from Malivore are closing in. Chaos ensues.

[AO3 LINK]

Read Chapter 1 below the cut:

Hope felt more alone than ever. All her friends remembered her now, but they were angry she’d kept her return a secret. No one bothered to ask her why she’d done it. Landon hadn’t even said a word to her, and Rafael had said they couldn’t talk anymore.

Everyone was leaving her. At least she’d be going back to Malivore soon. She could finally end this, and with luck, everyone would forget her again. But Hope wasn’t sure she could wait that long. The past few days had been unbearable. She felt nothing but pain and a loneliness that rendered her useless.

A knock sounded at her door. Hope didn’t have the energy to get up and answer it. She wrapped her blanket tightly around herself and returned her attention back to the show she was mindlessly watching. Anything to fill the void.

“Hope, please open up.” Josie’s voice.

That was the last person she wanted to see right now. She hadn’t spoken to her since she’d cast the spell to return everyone’s Malivore memories. Hope was too angry to see her. This was all Josie’s fault. If she’d just let sleeping dogs lie, Hope could have told everyone in her own time. They could have found another way to destroy the Croatoan.

“Please, Hope. This is an emergency. There’s a hoard of Malivore monsters heading for the school. We need you to help fight them off, to help protect Landon.”

Hope’s heart stuttered at the sound of his name. “Landon doesn’t want to see me.”

A blast sounded behind her. Hope whirled around to see the door had burst off its hinges. She glared at Josie. “What the hell was that for?”

“I wanted to make sure you were definitely in here before I forced my way in.”

“How did you find me?”

Josie held up a map with a splotch of blood on it. A simple location spell.

Hope sighed. She should have done more to mask her location. She was just so sure no one wanted to see her right now that she hadn’t bothered. Hope swiped at her tears, letting her messy hair fall across her face. She didn’t want Josie of all people to see her like this.

“Are you going to come and fight or what?”

“No one wants me there,” Hope said, hugging her legs and resting her chin on her knees.

“My dad does. And Lizzie too. I haven’t spoken to the others, but they all know you’re the best chance we have at fighting Malivore’s monsters. We’re all gathering in the library right now to prepare to defend the school. We voted and we want you to lead the fight. Come on, Hope, people do want you there.”

“Who voted against me?” Hope asked, raising her chin. Though she already knew the answer.

“Landon and Raf. Oh, and that new vampire. Or old vampire. Sebastian.”

Hope raised an eyebrow. “Ah, the one who saved us from the Croatoan. I’ve yet to meet him, but he sounds terrible already.”

“Come on, Hope. You know you’ll never forgive yourself if the monsters get Landon and you weren’t there to save him.”

Hope let out a long sigh. As much as she didn’t want to care anymore, she knew she still cared far too much. “Okay, fine. Let me just get my stuff together.”

She went into her room and gathered her weapons into a duffel bag. She glanced over her shoulder and listened carefully to make sure Josie wasn’t right outside the door. The creak of the couch sounded as the voices on the TV droned on.

Hope pulled out the spell book she’d been poring over last night and gathered the ingredients to a particularly useful spell. She struck a match and lit the bundle of sticks.

“For those who remember what Malivore obscured, this I char,” she chanted. “Let Lethe’s Bramble do its chore. Purge their minds of memories grim of pains from recent slights and sins. When the fire goes out, when the crystal turns black, the spell will be cast. Tabula rasa. Tabula rasa. Tabula rasa.”

— 

When they arrived at the Salvatore School library, Hope set down her weapon bag on an armchair and surveyed the group. Alaric was poring over books at a table in the middle of the room. Landon and Rafael stood nearby discussing different tactics superheroes in comics used to fight large groups of monsters.

A broody fellow was standing in a corner tracing his finger along the book titles. Lizzie walked over to him and handed him an old-fashioned outfit on a hanger.

“Seriously, Sebastian, you haven’t washed that outfit in six hundred years. People have been complaining.”

“Is it really so important that I smell nice going into battle?” Sebastian asked, his voice lofty and lilting. She couldn’t place his accent, but it sounded vaguely British. Not what Hope would have expected.

“It is if I’m fighting with you.” Lizzie pushed the clothes into his arms and held her nose.

Sebastian flitted out of there at vamp speed and returned a moment later dressed in the new clothes. He even looked like he had showered.

Hope turned her head to the side, sniffing herself cautiously. She’d put on deodorant, but she hadn’t taken the time for a shower. Hopefully she didn’t smell too bad.

“Much better,” Lizzie declared, practically fawning over him.

MG and Kaleb were standing by one of the display cases. They’d lifted the glass, and Kaleb was showing off a ring Hope recognized.

“Hey, that’s my father’s,” Hope said. “Be careful.”

“Chill, girl. I’m just trying it on. Gosh, this is so dope.” He admired the thick golden band.

“Oh, look, there’s another,” MG said. He snatched a gold ring from the case and slid it onto his finger. Hope was about to tell him that was her step-father’s but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. She just needed to make sure they put them back before they headed in battle.

“What do you think, Lizzie?” MG asked, holding up his hand.

She rolled her eyes. “It looks stupid. Now can we get on with the monster fighting? What’s the plan, Hope?”

All eyes turned to Hope. She glanced at the crystal in her pocket. It was almost completely black. Good. She just needed to stall a little longer. “What do we know so far?” she asked Alaric, who was sitting at a table with a book in front of him, clearly in the middle of some research.

“We don’t know much about the monsters. Only that Malivore can now send more than one at once. The zombie from last time is among them, but I expect there might be vampires as well. All with the mark of Malivore carved into their foreheads.”

“Do we have any idea of their numbers?” Hope asked. “I was thinking we could scout—” The world swayed as lights danced before Hope’s eyes. She was vaguely aware of Rafael running towards her as she passed out.

A moment later the rest of them passed out too.

—

A group of nine strangers awoke in a room filled with bookshelves. They all looked around at each other, confused.

One girl awoke in the muscled arms of a handsome black guy. She tucked a strand of long brown hair behind her ear and backed away from him. She didn’t know who he was, or who anyone was, or even who she herself was.

“Hey, there.” The guy smiled at her, giving her an appreciative look. Did he know her? Was this some strange case of amnesia? Oh, God. She needed to get to a hospital right away.

“What is this place?” came a surly British accent.

She looked across the room at a guy dressed in a ruffled shirt, dark blue coat, and black trousers tucked into boots. He looked like he’d been transported through time. Or maybe she had been transported back through time. But no, most of the others were wearing clothes like hers.

“Does anyone remember anything?” the blond girl next to the British guy asked.

“No,” everyone said at once.

“Maybe we’re all just really drunk,” said a black guy with braids.

“I don’t see any drinks, and my breath doesn’t smell like alcohol. Also I don’t think drinking would make us forget who we are,” the blonde said.

A boy with curly dark hair dug a card out of his pocket and held it up triumphantly. “I found my student ID. It seems my name is Landon. I go to Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted. Oh, wow. I’m gifted. I must be really smart.”

“Oh, I go there too,” said the black guy with braids. “Maybe we’re friends. I’m Kaleb.” He gave Landon a fist bump.

“What’s your name?” Kaleb asked the guy standing next to him.

“Milton,” he said, making a face. “Gosh, why couldn’t I have a cool name like Kaleb or Landon?”

“I’m Hope Marshall.” Hope stood up and brushed off the dust from her pants. She was relieved to have a name now, even though she still had no idea about anything else.

“Oh, hey, you got a last name. No fair,” Landon said. He rushed over to look at her ID card. “You go to a different school.”

“Mystic Falls High School,” she said, nodding. Guess she wasn’t as smart as the others...

“I’m Rafael,” said the guy she’d woken up on top of. “I go to Salvatore too.” He looked at Hope. “Hey, do you think we’re dating? We woke up all huddled together like that.”

“I guess we must be,” Hope said. There was something incredibly familiar about him, and her heart was doing little somersaults in her chest.

“Looks like we’re in the library of Salvatore Boarding School.” Landon pointed to a picture on the wall. “Most of us are students, I’d guess, but who are you?” Landon asked the older guy sitting at the table.

The guy dug through his wallet and pulled out a driver’s license. “Alaric Saltzman.” He looked at the books in front of him on the table. “I’m quite a bit older than you all. I must be a teacher, or maybe I’m the librarian. I do seem to know my way around the books.”

“I know this sounds kind of crazy, but we look kind of alike, and I feel like I need to get your approval. Do you think you’re my father?” Landon asked.

Alaric studied him. “You know. I do feel very disappointed in you and like I need to protect you. You probably are my son.”

“So I’m Landon Saltzman,” Landon said proudly. “That’s right, Hope Marshall. Last name buddies!” He gave her a high five.

“Not that anyone cares but I’m Elizabeth,” said the blonde.

“That is a beautiful name,” said the broody British guy. “Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate any identification on my person.”

Elizabeth reached over to check the tag of his coat. “Oh, look, your name is Lysander.”

Lysander scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair. “My mother must have hated me. I cannot believe she had the audacity to label my clothes and name me Lysander. What kind of name is that? Lysander. It sounds like a plague.”

“At least it’s better than Josette,” said a girl with wavy brown hair.

“That’s not so bad,” said Elizabeth. “We can call you Jojo for short.”

She made a face. “God, that’s even worse.”

“What about Josie?” Hope said.

“Ugh.” Elizabeth made a puking face.

“No, I like that. Josie it is.” Josie gave Hope a shy smile.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We need to get to a hospital and figure out what’s going on.”

“Wait,” Landon said, jumping in front of her. “What if we’re just being punked? You guys could all be pretending, and I’m the only one who doesn’t remember.”

“None of us are pretending, you turnip,” Lysander grumbled.

“Maybe we’ve all been drugged,” Milton suggested. “That could explain why we don’t remember anything, right? Or we got hit on the head.”

“My head feels fine,” Kaleb said.

Josie walked over to them. “Oh, hey, you guys have matching rings. Are you two together?”

Milton and Kaleb looked at each other. “Maybe,” Milton said. “I feel like he would be my type. Strong-willed, handsome, clever.”

Kaleb grinned. “Aw, you’re making me blush. I don’t think I’d go for such a nerd, but there’s something really endearing about you.”

“Your ring,” Josie said, picking up Kaleb’s hand. “It has an M on it. M for Milton. And yours has a K for Kaleb. Guys, these look like wedding rings. I think you’re married.”

“Oh, nice.” Kaleb put his arm around Milton, smiling.

It was Milton’s turn to blush.

“Aw, you guys are so cute.” Josie looked around, wishing she had her own partner. A number of these people were good-looking, but the only one that really captivated her was the girl who was already dating someone. Hope, was it?

“Okay, everyone, let’s get out of here,” Elizabeth said, marching to the door.

“Who made you the boss?” Hope demanded.

“You guys are just sitting around, so I’m taking charge.” Elizabeth opened up the door.

Three men in horribly gruesome Halloween costumes growled at her. They had some weird symbol on their forehead, along with a ton of fake blood. They smelled horrible. Elizabeth slammed the door in their faces and backed up.

“It’s Halloween, isn’t it?” Elizabeth said, trying her best not to freak out. “Those were just costumes, right?”

“No, that smelled like real blood,” Lysander said, somehow certain of it, though he couldn’t explain why.

“How would you know?” Elizabeth asked, suspicious. “Are you a doctor, or something? Maybe you’re the one who trapped us here.” She crossed her arms.

“I assure you I did nothing of the sort.”

A crash sounded and the door flew open. They all screamed and backed away. Elizabeth picked up a sword from one of the glass cases and swung it at the approaching zombie. She kicked it backwards into the other one.

Lysander joined her, swinging a heavy book onto the monsters’ heads with surprising accuracy.

“I’m really good at this,” Elizabeth said, relishing the fact. “I must be a monster hunter. We make a good team, Lysander.”

“There’s a secret door in the wall over here,” Hope called. “It looks like it leads down somewhere.”

“I’ll check,” Rafael said. He ran down the stairs. A moment later he came back. “It looks like some sewers or tunnels. Definitely a way out.”

“Good. You guys use that to escape,” Elizabeth said, swinging at the zombie. “Lysander and I will hold off the monsters.”

“Oh, hold up. You’re not fighting them alone,” Kaleb said. “I’m going to help too.”

“Me too,” said MG.

“Look, here’s a whole bag of weapons,” Landon said. He passed them out to everyone.

“Okay, we split up,” Elizabeth said. “The rest of you go down the stairs and find a way out. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.”

The others hurried to obey, eager to be out of that room.

Elizabeth grabbed Lysander’s arm to get him out of the way of an attacking monster. She pushed the monster back with her other hand and the monster went flying backwards in a shower of sparks.

“Whoa,” she said. “Did you see that, guys? I have powers. I’m like a superhero or something.”

“No wonder you’re the boss,” Lysander said, laughing. He was looking at her in awe, clearly impressed.

“Hey, when you guys are done flirting, we could use some help over here,” Kaleb said. He was struggling to put an arrow in a crossbow.

Elizabeth marched over there and snatched it from him. As if by instinct, she placed the arrow in it and shot the zombie approaching them. “Why don’t you guys catch up with the others in the tunnels? Lysander and I have got this.”

“We can still help,” Kaleb insisted. “You can do magic, right? I found this book of magic on the table. Maybe I can find a spell you can use to stop the monsters.”

Milton grabbed Kaleb’s hand. “Come on, babe. They’ve got this.”

Kaleb looked disappointed. “There’s got to be something in the book. Come on, it’s worth a shot.”

Elizabeth huffed. “Fine, you two work on that. Lysander and I will draw them outside.”

It was easy enough to herd the monsters outside. There were twelve of them in total. This was going to be a long fight. Elizabeth glanced over at Lysander. He was strong, but he hadn’t displayed any magic skills.

One of the monsters opened its jaws displaying sharp, pointy teeth. “Oh, God, a vampire.” Elizabeth ran it through with a sword, but it didn’t slow it down even a little. She tried to knock it back with magic, but nothing happened when she thrust her hands forward.

Lysander suddenly appeared behind the vampire and snapped its neck. When he looked up at Elizabeth, dark veins spread under his eyes and long fangs protruded from his mouth.

Elizabeth yelped and stepped away, holding the sword between them. “Don’t come any closer.”

“What’s the matter, Elizabeth?”

She turned and ran.

“Elizabeth, would you slow down?”

—

Hope led the way through the underground tunnels. It was poorly lit with electric bulbs along the walls at intervals. Rats skittered across the damp floor, and a rank smell filled the place. Like old blood.

“Everyone okay?” Hope asked, glancing back at the others.

“So far,” Landon said, rubbing something sticky off his jacket. “I think I stepped into a spider web.”

Alaric placed a hand on his shoulder. “You should be more careful.”

“Sorry, Dad. It’s just really hard to see down here.”

“Post tenebras spero lucem,” Hope muttered. An orb of light burst forth in her hand. Everyone jumped, startled. “Okay, I have no idea where that came from.”

“You have magic,” Josie said, looking fascinated. “That is so cool.” She reached over to link arms with Hope. “I’m sticking with you from now on.”

Hope laughed. “Oh, it’s not that cool. Okay, it’s pretty cool. I wonder what else I can do.”

Landon was muttering the words Hope had spoken over and over again. “Dang it. I don’t have any magic.”

“Me neither,” Alaric said. “Looks like we’re both regular humans, son.”

“Yeah, I can’t do anything either,” Rafael said, shrugging. “Looks like Hope’s the only one.”

Josie said the spell, not expecting anything to happen. Light burst forth in her hand. “Oh, I can do it too,” she said excitedly.

“That’s great,” Hope said, smiling. “Maybe we were in like a coven together or something.”

“Yeah, we’re probably magic buddies.”

“Do you think we knew magic existed?” Landon asked. “Or are we not supposed to know? If it’s some big secret, then we should be pretty excited about this, right? I mean, it’s okay for me to be geeking out a little right now.”

“The book I was reading when I woke up was a magic book,” Alaric said. “I think I must have known about it, or at least suspected.”

Rafael wrapped an arm around Hope, pulling her away from Josie. “Well, I’m pretty sure I knew since I’m dating this goddess.”

Hope felt a little weird. She was pretty sure she liked him. Her heart was racing and her skin felt electric at his touch, but she couldn’t help glancing at Josie…

—

“Elizabeth, would you stop running for one moment?” Lysander grabbed her arm. He felt a pinch of pain and then he was flying backwards. He rubbed his head. “What was that for?”

“You’re a vampire!” Elizabeth yelled. She didn’t know why her magic only seemed to work when she was touching him, but that was hardly her concern at the moment.

“What? I am not a vampire,” he said, offended. “I am one of the good guys. I have been fighting by your side all this time, haven’t I?”

“Check your teeth.”

Lysander felt his canines. They were long and sharp. He sniffed the air and found he could smell blood. Goodness gracious, the girl was right. This did not make any sense to him.

“I hunt monsters like you,” Elizabeth said.

“And I feed on people like you.” He stepped closer to her, but she didn’t back away this time. Her chin was held high, and damn was that attractive. “So why don’t I feel the slightest urge to bite you? Instead I find myself drawn to you in a way I cannot explain. And why am I fighting against other monsters?”

“Maybe you’re not as powerful, and they pick on you for that.”

“No, that isn’t it,” he said with certainty. He knew he could hold his own in a fight. “I must be a noble vampire, far more intelligent than any of the monsters that give in to their thirst. I doubt I have had a drop of human blood in my life. I only feed on animals and hunt the villains who prey on humans.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, scoffing. “A good vampire? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you have forgotten that along with everything else. Maybe I should remind you.” Lysander was taking a risk here, but it felt right in his bones. He wrapped a hand around Elizabeth’s waist and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Elizabeth felt like her skin was on fire. She wanted to get closer to the vampire. She dug her fingers through his hair and kissed his mouth, careful not to brush against his fangs. He tilted his head so his lips brushed her neck, and she melted into his arms.

[inkedmyths]

Bamboozled again! Actually wait no this is the first time

Because I once again got going in the headcanon chat and had to write this out-

@linkeduniverse shenanigans ahead

Summary: So who were the first two to meet? Time and Warriors. How does that go? About how you would expect.

"Are you sure about this, hun?"

Link bit his lip as he looked into the worried eyes of his wife. Her brows were knitted together, and she searched his face with concern.

"You know I hate leaving. It's just... something's wrong." Very wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he concentrated again. "I'm not sure what exactly, but I have to investigate. If it's a problem..."

"Ya have ta do somethin' about it, I know." Malon, bless her, smiled at him. It carried a sadness, but it was encouraging. "Always the Hero. Promise me you'll be careful, Link?"

"Of course darling." He leaned in for one last kiss. "If all goes well, I won't be gone for that long." If all doesn't go well, I may never come back, he thought. He pushed that nasty thought away, forcing a smile onto his face. He said his last goodbyes to his beloved before setting off down the road. She waved him goodbye, watching him go until he disappeared behind a hill.

It had been a long time since he'd gone travelling in full armor, much less this particular set. He carried all of his best gear, which may have been overkill, but he couldn't be too sure what he was dealing with. It could be nothing... but he doubted that. His instincts told him otherwise, carrying a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. A feeling he hadn't felt since...

The masks felt heavy in his bag, despite them not weighing anything due to its magical properties. Memories he'd tried hard to forget resurfaced, and his hand drifted to the ocarina at his waist. Shaking his head, Link forced himself to focus on the present. Where was the disturbance coming from? He paused and focused for a moment. The woods to the left felt off.

He left the path, tromping through the underbrush. More memories swirled about his head of a distant and short childhood spent underneath the canopy of trees. Too short a childhood, really, but he brushed that aside. Birds twittered among the branches. Not too much could be wrong if they were still here-

A crash up ahead startled him out of his thoughts. His hand drifted up, ready to draw his sword if necessary. Swearing followed the noise, something which for some reason seemed to reverberate through him for a moment.

Well. Perhaps this was the answer to what he was looking for? He walked forward to investigate.

---

Link was having a bad day.

For one thing, he'd woken up with the worst hair day. It took him almost forty-five minutes to get his hair to lie properly, and even then one little piece was sticking up just wrong. By the time he got around to getting breakfast it was cold and they'd run out of bacon. He tripped over his own foot and nearly fallen down the stairs. Then someone spilled coffee on his scarf, which immediately had to go and wash before it stained.

To top it all off now, there was evidence of temporal issues happening again. No evidence to what was causing it. Just that something was happening. If it was Cia again, even though she should have been taken care of completely, he was going to scream.

Overall, a very bad day.

These were the thoughts that ran through Link's head as he stomped along his way.

He tried to calm himself down, if just a little bit. Breathe, in, out. "Get yourself together Link. You are the Hero of Warriors, Captain of the Royal Guard. You can handle all of this. That's why they sent you to investigate. "

He continued like that for a while, wrapped up in his thoughts and problems. If he'd been paying attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed he'd crossed into a forest where there shouldn't be one. He also would have noticed the sudden steep incline.

But he didn't, and yelped as his foot went down farther then he thought it would. This may have been just fine, but he then slipped on a patch of mud and fell. He rolled, crashing through the shrubbery down to the bottom of the hill.

He groaned, then followed that up with some rather nasty words. Pushing himself up, he spat a leaf out of his mouth. Now his hair was definitely messed up again, not to mention full of dirt and twigs.

Today was the absolute worst.

---

Choosing each step carefully, Link slowly inched into a small clearing ahead of him. What he saw was... not exactly what he was expecting.

It was a young Hylian man, whom it looked like had just fallen down a somewhat steep incline. He cycled through several observations about him: firstly, the brilliant blue scarf looped around his neck. Secondly, the fact that he was wearing armor. And third, the fact that he was swearing with the proficiency of someone who was well practiced with the art.

Aside from those observations, there was something about this man that felt... odd. Almost familiar, while also being foreign and strange. Who was he, and what was he doing here?

---

Link brushed off his tunic as he stood up. He muttered a few last insults directed at the very existence of the hill, before standing up straight. Then he heard the snap of a twig behind him, and he whirled around.

He wasn't sure exactly what to make of the man before him, except that he was obviously a warrior. His heavy armor gleamed in the sun that filtered through the trees. One blue eye studied him carefully, while the other was closed, a scar over it suggesting it was no longer functional. Strange tattoos marked his face in red and blue, giving him a fierce look. Not that he needed it. He was already an imposing figure.

Noting the huge sword on his back, Link let his hand drift towards his own. He shifted slightly, preparing to go into a battle stance if necessary.

---

The young man seemed as wary of him as Link was. He wasn't sure what that implied, but he figured he should try speaking before fighting. "Hello, stranger. What brings a young man such as yourself to this neck of the woods?"

The other Hylian blinked. "Business," he replied carefully.

That explained nothing, only raising more suspicions. "What sort of business?"

---

He wasn't attacking. Yet. Link didn't want to let himself be lulled into a false sense of security only to be attacked, so he stayed on guard.

"Royal guard business." That usually shut people up.

---

That was the first real weird thing. Link's eyes narrowed slightly. "Really? What does the guard want that's in a forest in the middle of nowhere?" As he said this, he reexamined the man. While he could tie some aspects of his outfit to the Guard, he didn't look like the soldiers he knew. An imposter? Or something more a little voice needled in the back of his head.

---

"Wait, forest? In the middle of nowhere?" For some reason it hadn't occurred to Link that he was in a forest until that moment. A forest which definitely shouldn't have been there. "Well shit. I guess this is the fucking anomaly."

---

Now that surprised him. The last thing Link had been expecting him to say. "Anomaly?"

The young man turned slightly red. "Shit, did I say that outloud?"

He ignored that comment. "Is that why you're here? Investigating the anomaly?" If that was the case...

---

Link blinked slightly. The man seemed to be taking this in stride. Was he the source of the problem.

"Well... yes." He watched him closely for his reaction.

"I am as well." The man scanned the surrounding area. "Perhaps I could help you."

That... wasn't what he was expecting. This man was investigating as well? He must be a local of this dimension, or point in time or... whatever. That explained his presence, at least somewhat.

"I mean, if you want," Link said, trying to play things cooly nonchalant. "What's your name?"

The man blinked once. "Link."

Oh fuck.

---

The scarfed Hylian turned pale, then groaned. "Oh my fucking god Hylia you can't be serious. This isn't happening. Not this shit again."

Link blinked. He had expected surprise, maybe awe. Not... whatever this soldier was doing.

"Fuck me, fuck this, and fuck these goddamn timelines and incarnations or whatever this shit is." The young man was moaning into his hands.

Hang on. Timelines?

"... I'm almost afraid to ask, but may I inquire as to the reason for your reaction?" He was met with a very familiar expression. It was the expression he'd seen in the mirror that morning when he'd sensed the disturbance. He braced himself for whatever he was about to hear.

---

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He can do this. This is fine. "Okay, please don't freak out or anything, but that's my name too. You're another Hero, right?"

The man, the other Link, had about the kind of reaction he was expecting. Shocked, he nodded, seemingly at a temporary loss for words.

"Alright. So, we are both," he gestured between them, "incarnations of Courage. From either different points in history, or from alternate Hyrules. For whatever goddess forsaken reason, something screwed up the timespace continuum, so now we are in the same place. You with me?"

---

He processed this for a moment. Another Hero of Courage? Okay, sure, why not? Would explain the odd familiarity if they sort of shared a spirit. "Alright. I think I've got it."

The other Hero looked surprised. "Really? Okay, okay, cool. Makes things a little easier."

He tipped his head to the side. "This has happened to you before?"

"Unfortunately yes. However the bitc- I mean, the person that caused it last time shouldn't be the cause this time, so I haven't the foggiest as to how it's happening now."

"Hm." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure myself. I simply felt a disturbance in the continuum and set out to investigate."

"You sensed it?"

He nodded. "I suppose it's an ability that comes with being the Hero of Time."

The other Hero blinked, somewhat surprised. He seemed to get over it quickly, though. "Alright then, Time- can I call you that? It's far easier than saying 'Link', for obvious reasons."

"Fine by me. How about you, young one? What's your title?"

"Young one? What are you, my dad? Anyway, I'm the Hero of Warriors, so I guess that makes me Warriors. I can live with that."

Dad, huh? Well, he guessed he was getting to be that age. Or was he already that age? Didn't matter.

"So then, Time. You 'sense' any other disurbances?" Warriors looked at him expectantly.

He paused a moment, concentrating again. One ear twitched. "Not exactly, but my instincts are directing me that way." He gestured somewhere to the right.

"Alright. So I guess we head in that direction."

"We?"

"I mean, you said you were investigating the disturbances, right? And two Heroes are better than one.

Time chuckled. "I suppose you have a point."

"Of course I do. Now let's get going! The sooner we get this done the sooner I can take a shower." Warriors marched off.

Time chuckled once more. This Hero seemed rather brash, but he suspected he meant well overall. At least this meant neither of them would be fighting alone this round. He followed the scarfed blond into the trees.

And so the first two met and were on their way.

[nightofnyx8]

I’d Still Choose You (Part 1)

Well, I didn’t exactly participate in Dickkory week because well, life happened. But I did want to create something to celebrate these two, so I wrote this little short story for this week. It has three parts, and this is the first (and probably the longest). I post the other two parts...mmm, later. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Let me know what you think!

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

“Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”

-Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

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

Dick Grayson paced quickly around the cramped, stuffy room, running his hands nervously through his hair. She had been in there too long.

“Dick, will you sit down?” Garfield called down from the coach. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“It’s been two hours, Gar. Something’s not right.”

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Rachel chimed in. “There’s no point in worrying when we don’t have all the facts yet.”

The large oak doors opened, and Alfred stepped out.

“Master Dick, Miss Kory is—”

But he was already running past Alfred, into the small room that had been the established “hospital” in Wayne Manor for as long as he could remember. There she was, her beautiful crimson hair spreading out on the pillows like a fan.

“Kory!” He ran to her and stroked her hair away from her eyes—eyes that held confusion and surprise. Taking her face in his hands, he sighed in relief to see the woman he loved alive and well. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He pulled her gently towards him for a kiss, but she shrieked and backed away, her green orbs now filled with fear.

“Kory, are you alright?” He gripped the edge of the bed, panic rising in his chest. “It’s just me.”

And then she stared at him in a way she never had before, almost…almost as if he were a complete stranger.

“Who are you?”

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

“I don’t understand, how can she not remember me?” Dick sat in the back of the examination room, the neuroimages of Kory’s brain projected on the screen.

“Physically, she’s perfectly fine.” Clark responded, musing at the images.

"Agreed.” Bruce stated from the back. “No broken bones, no internal trauma. But it’s her brain that’s been affected.”

Dick wasn’t really sure why Superman was at the Batcave, but given the circumstances at the moment he didn’t really care.

“What’s wrong with her brain? Did she hit her head?”

“We’re not sure.” Bruce responded. “But something definitely happened between when she was kidnapped by the Psions and before you rescued her.”

“Well then, fix it.” He got up impatiently, making his way to the side of the window, watching the sun rise over the orchards that surrounded the estate. He didn’t want to hear whatever lecture Bruce would give next.

“Dick, you know it’s not that easy.” Bruce’s voice didn’t sound angry this time. “The brain is very complicated and unpredictable.”

The doors opened to reveal Rachel running in, Gar at her tail. Dick had to only take one look at her expression to know whatever news she had wasn’t good.

“Rachel, what happened?” Clark stepped off the platform and drew up a chair. Rachel sat down, holding her head in her hands.

“I was able to look into her mind.” She said quietly. “It’s…it’s bad. There’s a dark hole in her mind, meaning she’s literally lost all of her memories from her time on Earth. The last memory her mind holds is being taken by the Gordanians from Tameran.”

“But, Rachel.” Dick stepped away from the window to meet her. “That was ten years ago.”

“I know.” She said sadly. “She doesn’t know who any of us are on Earth.”

Bruce turned back towards the computer monitors, his expression contemplative. “If she had lost all of her memory from the past ten years, then why can she still understand English? Wouldn’t have she forgotten that as well?”

“That’s the weird part. She remembers the language, what things are called, even where certain places are. Her knowledge is perfectly intact, but her memory is completely gone.”

Dick steadied himself on the back of Rachel’s chair. “Can you bring at least some of them back?’

Rachel shook her head. “I can only do that in minor cases. And even if I did have that power, there’s nothing I could do. Our minds can hold memories in the deep subconscious, and sometimes I can bring them to the surface. But with Kory’s mind it’s different. There’s nothing there. Just a big, dark, empty blank.”

“Nothing there.” Dick repeated, letting the words hang over them.

“Yes.” She stated dejectedly. “Which means whatever happened was deliberate. Whoever or whatever took her memories didn’t want her to get them back.”

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

The great clock in the grand hallway struck seven o’clock as Dick made his way to the hospital room. He didn’t care if they all said it was impossible. He wasn’t about to sit back and do nothing. He had to see her again.

He stopped as he reached the door, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t lose her, not like this. He knocked softly then stepped into the occupied room. She was sitting upright in the bed and looking out the window, the fading light turning her hair to fire.

“Hey.” He stated simply. He didn’t want to scare her this time.

She turned to look at him and he felt his voice catch in his throat. What was he supposed to say now? He took a step towards her. “How are you feeling?”

“I am well.” She looked understandable tense.

“Hey um…look, maybe we could start over?” He held out his hand. “I’m—”

“Dick.” She stated emphatically. “The one called Alfred has informed me of who you are.”

Dick.

Never had she called him that. She had always preferred his full name, and she was the only person besides his own mother that he had allowed to do so.

“Yeah.” He choked out. “Did Alfred mention anything else?”

She looked down at her left hand, the wedding bands wrapped around her finger gleaming slightly in the afternoon light.

“We are…married?”

He felt his chest tighten. “Yes. It’ll be three years this December.”

She took a deep breath, letting the silence suffocate the room.

“How long have I been here on this strange planet?” She finally said. “The last I remember…I was on Tameran.”

“Ten years.” He replied, leading to another long silence. Kory looked as though she had forgotten how to breathe.

“I have to go back.” She said suddenly, flinging herself out of the bed. “My people need me! I cannot just stay here and…and…”

“Kory!” Dick caught her as she stumbled to the ground, clutching at her head. “You’re not well enough to stand, calm down. Your planet’s safe, I promise.”

“But my planet is under attack!”

“No, listen. Tameran’s fine. It’s safe. You appointed your K'norfka Galfore as the Grand Ruler a while ago. You don’t need to worry about it, just please lay back down, Kory.” 

She looked up at him, her glowing orbs absent of the happiness that normally occupied them.

“Why do you call me that?”

“What?”

“Kory. It is not my name.”

“Oh well,” How to explain this? “I guess it’s what your friends call you here on Earth. I know your name, Koriand’r. I guess I’ve always just shortened it.”

She sighed, falling back onto the bed. She put her head in her hands, Dick kneeling at the foot of the bed.

“I do not know what to do. I do not even know my own name anymore.” She sobbed. He sat down next to her and put his hand around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him in comfort. She stiffened, drawing back. She locked eyes with his, her gaze tinged with doubt.

“I am…sorry.” She stated. “I know we are, together. But I—”

“It’s okay.” He said quietly. He felt like an elephant was standing on his chest. But he removed his arm and brought in down awkwardly at his side.

“I uh, I thought you might like this.” He pulled out a large photo album, well-worn with use.

“It’s pictures of you, of us, of everyone here. Maybe it’ll jog your memory a bit.”

She took it with hesitation, letting her curiosity win out in the end. She flipped through each picture, staring at photos of herself. He stayed silent and looked at the pictures with her, from their first days at the Titans Tower, to missions with the Justice League, late nights at the carnival, playing on the beach with their friends…

She pulled out a photo from one of the slots. She stared with interest to the woman in white, smiling brightly next to Dick on the happiest day of his life.

“I look happy.” She noted.

“You were.” He blurted out. “You said you wished you could pause that moment forever.”

“I did?” She questioned. “I...I do not remember.”

She closed the book and tried to give it back to him, but he pushed it gently towards her.

“Keep it.” He said. “It’s really yours anyway.”

The afternoon light had faded into twilight, the moon rising slowly outside the large window.

“It’s getting late. We should probably be getting you home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, our home.”

She bit her lip. “Listen, Dick. I know this is difficult for you as well, but…I need time.”

“It’ll probably help you get your memory back faster. You do want that, right?”

She looked down, and Dick felt his heart sink. Of course she would be uncomfortable. And he wouldn’t make her. 

“Look, I’m sorry.” He said, getting up from the bed. “I’m sure Alfred wouldn’t mind you staying here for another night.”

She nodded. “He is very kind. I feel…comfortable here.”

He smiled, turning to walk out the room. He stopped right before the door, looking back at her.

“Goodnight, Kory.” He said softly, letting her face illuminate his mind before he stepped out.

“Goodnight.” She answered back. She let out a small smile before the door closed softly, leaving her alone again.

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

The nightmare was all so familiar. He must have dreamt it a thousand times, continuously playing back the details. The eerie sound of the wire snapping, his mother’s scream, the last moments of a child’s innocence still hanging in the air.

He had woken up pale and sweaty. It had been a while since he had dreamed of them. No matter how many times the nightmare surfaced, it always took a while to breathe normally again.

His arm reached over to the other side of the bed, searching for the familiar warmth that always accompanied it. Nothing.

He turned over, finding the bed to be empty. Maybe she was in the bathroom, or just out on the—

Oh.

It took all but a few seconds for the events of the past day to come crashing down on him, the sight of her guarded eyes burned into his mind.

He did not sleep for the rest of the night, staring only to the other side of the bed that he used to share with the woman he loved.

[vexie-chan]

Stay

-chinhands- I wrote a “break it” scene expansion. Now have a snuggly “fix it” fic-doodle. Thought I’d get this in under the wire before all bets are off tomorrow. I just want to see my favorite found family pair make up. 

2 ep 48 spoilers under the cut, obvs. 

Caleb wraps his coat tighter around himself as quietly as possible, slowly curling into a ball. It’s cold; he wants to summon Frumpkin for extra warmth and comfort, but he doesn’t want to alert Caduceus that he’s still awake. The firbolg is sleeping across the room, but knowing him, he sleeps with one ear open. He and Beau have both been careful of Caleb’s every move. It’s been hard enough to get everyone to let him alone after…after everything that happened today.

              Your people did this to my people.

              Fuck him.

              Caleb bites down hard on his lip, centering his mind on the pain. He reprimands himself sternly. No, don’t think about that. What’s done is done. It was always going to come to this. There was never another way this could have ended. Accept it and move on.

              It’s no good. No matter what he tells himself, the memories don’t stop. There’s a part of him that’s still stunned. For months now, he’s held onto this foolish belief that they would be together until the very end, he and Nott. For so long, it has been just the two of them. Through everything, good and bad (and most of it bad), they stuck together. They had each other at the end of the day. And suddenly all of that gone. Never again will Nott come running with some treasure she’s scavenged for him, or some story to tell. Never again will she put flowers in his hair or ride piggy back. Never again will they pull any of their cons. Never, never, never.

              Never did he imagine that all of that would be over…just like that.

              Fuck him.

              Never did he think it would feel…like this. The emptiness bores into his chest and makes him want to gasp for air, but he doesn’t dare. This isn’t something he wants Caduceus to see.He grips the worn fabric of his coat as tight as his fingers can go, the tips growing numb quickly. He focuses on making his breathing match the breathing of a normal, sleeping human.

              He doesn’t know long he’s laid, focusing on breathing, staring at the shadowy grains of the wooden wall when he hears the door creak open, a sliver of dim light from the hall slashing through the room. He closes his eyes automatically, like a child not wanting to be caught awake after bedtime. Is it Beauregard, here to check on him? She’s been her own special brand of concerned all evening. He remembers her firm grip on his arm, in stark contrast to Caduceus’s light, warm touch on his shoulder.

              “I’d better see you in the morning,” she had said.

              “We will,” Caduceus had replied gently. Beau’s eyes had never left Caleb’s, not fully trusting him to stay.  

              Caleb waits. For several moments, there’s no further sound. Then the door gently closes. She’s gone.

Just when he starts to relax, Caleb hears movement. Slowly, small footsteps pad toward him. It’s a quiet sound, but each familiar footstep makes Caleb’s heart beat harder. The footsteps stop right by his bed.

Silence.

              Breathe in, hold, and out, Caleb thinks desperately to himself, not daring to move. Other parts of his mind are screaming other things that he tries to ignore.  

              Nothing happens for several minutes. Just breathing and Caleb’s heart hammering in his chest. Can she hear it?  It’s so loud.

              A small, achingly familiar hand touches his back—hesitant at first, pulling back (just like when they first met), and then more firmly.

              Caleb holds his eyes shut tightly and counts to ten. Then he lets go of the breath he’s holding and slowly turns over. He opens his eyes.  

              Nott is there. She’s right there watching him, golden eyes wide in the dark, one hand curled around the other as if she’s just pulled it out of a burning fire. There’s a slight tremor, as though she’s trying to keep from full-on shaking. Other than that, she doesn’t move. She just stands and looks at him, her face unsure.

              They stare at each other for a moment.

              Fuck him.

              Not sure if it’s the right thing to do, Caleb scoots backward, making more room. A cautious invitation. He hears Nott breathe in, the tiniest of gasps. She places her hands on the edge of the mattress, then pulls back, hesitating. He watches her face. He hasn’t seen this much apprehension from her for a very long time. It was a slow process for her to believe he was really okay with her even holding his hand when he used Frumpkin’s sight. He worked in tiny steps, making sure she was comfortable, until she was finally convinced that he didn’t mind her being close to him.

It feels like they are back to square one...strangers to each other once more.

              Your people.

              Slowly, as if she’s a wild animal he doesn’t want to frighten, Caleb uncurls one of his hands and extends it to her, beckoning. She looks at him again, takes a deep breath, and climbs up onto the bed. She stays on the very edge, careful not to touch him. The space between them on the narrow twin bed feels like miles.

              I got scared of the skeleton so I came over here.  

              How long ago was that? When Caleb and Nott slept in a cellar in Zadash when they had first found the Beacon? He’d dreamt of all of those different roads of possibility and…peace. It had been startling when he’d woken, but there was Nott, curled against his legs. She was often found there when he had nightmares or strange dreams. She always knew.

              It feels wrong, her staying so far away. He wants to pull her close. How many nights out in the woods had they slept like that? Him curled around her, her curled around Frumpkin. A skinny, malnourished tangle of warmth. That’s how they survived those frigid nights until it became a comforting habit that continued into the spring and summer. Even after they could afford a room with two beds, they slept like that more often than not, especially after a long day or a hard battle.

              But that was then. Now…

Caleb stays perfectly still. It doesn’t matter how cold and lonely he is now. It doesn’t matter how much he wants to hold her tight and plead for her forgiveness. He doesn’t have the right to ask anything of her now, least of all that. He takes a deep breath and gives her what he hopes is a friendly nod.

              You can stay as long as you like, he tries to tell her without speaking. You are free to do as you please.  

              She’s still watching him, as if she’s not sure what he’ll do.

              It’s been a long time since she’s been afraid of him like this. Is it because she knows what he is now? What he can do? What he’s done? Does she see the monster he really is now?

              Your people. You.

But…then why is she here?

              I will not harm you, he had promised that first night. Does she know that’s still true?

              Does it matter?

              This strangeness makes him want to scream. He wants to beg her to say what she came to say, or do whatever it is she came to do, but he can’t. The silence is unbearable.  

              “Well…Gute nacht,” Caleb whispers, trying to clear it. It doesn’t feel right. Nott flinches as if he’d shouted.

              What does she want? Why is she here? What is he supposed to do? She’s watching him and not saying anything and it’s almost unbearable.

              Caleb hesitates, then turns back over to face the wall. For just a moment, he feels the relief of not seeing her eyes burning into him. But then he hears another small intake of breath. Wrong.

              He’s messed it up again somehow. He waits for her to leave. His ears strain for her footsteps padding back toward the door, the quiet creak. He waits for the gaping hole that is his future to take back over.  

              He stiffens when he feels the lightest touch of her back against his. She’s curled in the opposite direction. They’re barely touching, but the point of contact burns, reminding him that she’s there.  

              Caleb stares at the wall, not knowing what to do. He’s barely breathing, trying to force himself to relax. Then he feels Nott start to shake, ever so slightly. He hears the smallest sniffle in the dark. Something shifts in his heart. He never has been able to stand it when she cried.

              Fuck him. Well, fuck him twice, then. Enough of this.

              Without hesitation, Caleb turns back to face Nott, pulling her in to close and curling around her like he’s done so many nights before. He wraps her in his coat, tucking her in with him and holding her with his outside arm. Just like they used to sleep. But instead of Frumpkin, Nott catches Caleb’s other arm and pulls it to her chest, holding it tight. Her tears are hot on his hand. He bows his head over hers and just holds her while she cries.

              It might not be right, but it’s not wrong, either. It’s a little better.  

For several minutes, they stay like that.  

              “I was so scared, Caleb. I still am. I’ve never been this scared—not even when we were underwater,” Nott whispers finally. “I didn’t think it was even possible to feel this scared.”

              “I know, I—”

              Nott shakes her head and Caleb silences, waiting.  

              “It was just so much all at once. Everyone was looking at me and I’m not…I’m not like you or Fjord. I don’t know what to do. I’m no captain. I just…want him back,” she continues. “Yeza…I…he’s important. To me. And I never thought anything like this would happen. He was always so careful and smart. I thought he would stay safe. Sure, I was worried that this town would be affected by what was happening but I never… I…when I saw the house I just…I hadn’t even imagined…I couldn’t even think straight.”

              This time Caleb waits without being told. Your people. Your fault.

              Nott takes a deep, shaky breath and squeezes his arm.

              “But I didn’t mean to…I don’t want to lose you, too,” she says, barely audible, whispering the words against his palm. “When I came here, I thought you might already be gone.”

              Caleb carefully sets his chin atop her head.

              “Nein. I am not going anywhere,” he promises, trying to make his voice as comforting as possible. “I am here.”

              “You…you weren’t, though,” Nott says, shifting in his arms. “You weren’t with me back there, Caleb. You weren’t there. You were running already. I could…I could see it. You still want to run, don’t you?”

              Caleb closes his eyes.

              “You are right. I want to run. I am scared, too. Terrified,” he says. “I expected to see war, but I did not expect…m-my people to be this close. I did not expect my people to be the ones to hurt your people.”

              Nott sighs.

              “I…I am sorry for what I said. I was just so…angry and scared and you weren’t there. I needed you, and you weren’t there,” she says. She stretches up to gently butt his chin with the top of her head. “I still need you, you know that, right?”

              The warmth that ignites in Caleb’s chest burns, like your fingers and toes when you’ve been out in the cold for too long and then dip them in warm water. It’s more pain than comfort.

              Fuck him.

              “I…did not know if you…” he stammers, then swallows hard. The tears he’d held back before rush forth now, stealing his breath away.

              “Caleb?” Nott looks up, alarmed.

              “I am so sorry, Nott. For everything,” Caleb whispers. “You do not need to accept that apology now or…or ever, if you want. But know that I am so sorry for what…for what my people have done to you and your…your people. I am sorry for what I have done in my past and today, though I know…I know it means nothing. You know what I am now. You know why…why I’m unforgivable. Now, at last, you understand.”  

              Nott bites his hand. Hard. He bites off a strangled yell.

              “You’re a big stupid human, you know that?” Nott says. She pushes back so she can look at him. Stunned, he looks back at her. With a shake of her head, she reaches up and wipes the tears off his face.

              “It wasn’t about that stuff. I already told you, didn’t I? What happened to you back then wasn’t your fault. I’m not afraid of that,” she says. “But now…you have a chance to do something about all of that bad stuff those people caused. You have a chance to make some of it right again.”

              Those people. Your people. Those people.  

              You’re the solution here. We’re here to fix this.  

              “Nott, I don’t…I don’t know how much I can do. I am a risk here. There is a big red target on my back. These people…that man…” Caleb takes a steadying breath. “If we do this and…and Ikithon finds you, you will die. But if he finds you with me, you will die slowly and painfully. Because of me. To punish me. I can’t stand the thought of that happening, Nott. I can’t. I can’t do that to you.”

              Nott’s eyes widen. Even in the darkness, Caleb sees her pale. He shudders.

              “I’m a dangerous person to have around for this particular situation. The best thing I can do for you is run and pray they don’t find out that I was ever with you,” he says.

              He doesn’t add that he’s a dangerous person to have around regardless of the situation. That he never should have been foolish enough to think he could have companions—to have friends.

              “No! Don’t run,” Nott says, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Please, Caleb. Don’t run when you know I can’t go with you.”

              “Go with…You would still come with me?” Caleb asks, startled.

              “Yes, of course,” Nott says. “After we find Yeza and make sure he’s safe, if you want to go, I’ll go with you anywhere you want. Just please stay with me now.”

              “We are…still friends, then?”

              It’s Caleb’s voice, but it’s so small and vulnerable and wistful, like Nott has never heard it. She snuggles back close, wrapping her arms around him.

              “Yes, of course. Of course we’re still friends,” she says softly. “We never weren’t.”

              Caleb buries his face in her hair. He’s not cold anymore. He’s so incredibly warm he could almost burst from it.

              “I will stay,” he whispers. “For you, I will stay. I will do whatever is in my power to make things right. I will do my best to keep us safe.”

              He would promise her anything she asked for right now. The moon, every star in the sky, anything.

              “Thank you,” Nott says. “And when it’s over, we can go if you want to.”

              “When it’s over,” Caleb repeats.

              If they survive, his mind whispers.

              “You know I love you, don’t you, Caleb? You know that, right?” Nott says, nuzzling his chest.

              He knows, but it’s harder to believe. Harder to maintain. He’ll hear her cold, angry “Fuck him!” in his dreams for a very long time. It’s what he deserves. It’s the truth. Just as he’s always known.

              But Caleb presses his lips to the top of her head.

              “And I love you, too, Nott the Brave,” he says.

              That, too, is true. The truth of it almost surprises him, but it feels old and familiar, like he’s known it all along. He may be horrible and broken and a monster, but he loves her. Somehow, there’s room for both of those things to be equally true. And that’s something.

                Beauregard is waiting outside the door when Caduceus quietly opens it the next morning. She opens her mouth in alarm when he appears alone, but Caduceus shakes his head, holding his finger to his lips. With a small smile, he opens the door wider and motions for her to look inside.

              Caleb and Nott are still asleep, tangled in each other’s arms. For once, both of their faces hold a peaceful look. It takes years off Caleb.

              Caduceus shuts the door.

              “I know we have a lot to do and a lot to talk about today, but I thought we should let them sleep,” he says quietly. “I think they need it.”

              “Yeah. Yeah, I think they’ll be okay if we go ahead and start breakfast,” Beau agrees, nodding.

              The two of them walk down the hall, leaving Nott and Caleb to sleep peacefully just a little longer. Just the two of them. Just as it’s been. Just as they’ll stay. 

[shuuv]

In Their Shoes, A TodoMomo Oneshot

It seemed like a regular day for Endeavour. He had been out patrolling with Hawks since morning and nothing much has happened, so they split up for the moment. Usually he’d be with his son, Shoto. However, today Shoto had to take a leave of absence as his wife, Momo, was three months pregnant and had to go for a doctor’s visit.

Endeavour had never really approved of Momo. While she had came from a good family and had a good quirk, Enji felt as though Momo was a bad influence to Shoto. For example, they hadn’t even gotten married yet and she was already pregnant. Though the child was conceived on the night that Shoto had proposed to her, they had decided to put off the wedding as a tight gown may not suit well with her growing baby bump.

In truth, the only reason why Enji hadn’t really objected to anything verbally was because of Rei. He would probably try to scare Momo after giving birth or something though. He was still a father after all. He knew that it was hard for a woman to go through pregnancy and it would probably be even harder if one had to go through it alone.

All of a sudden, screams and shouts were heard. Glass broke and people were running everywhere. Enji dashed to the scene, only to see a typical robbery scene.

“Hold it right there! It’s either you or this litlle guy right here.”

The perpetrator had cocked a gun to his hostages’ head. This time however, the hostage was a baby wrapped in its’ blanket. Enji hesitated for a bit. He couldn’t use his flames, it would injure the hostage. Even though he was the number one hero, there are situations that he clearly didn’t excel in. Through the earpiece in his ear, Hawks had called him.

“Hey Endeavour! Seems like there’s a chain of bank robberies all round the district. You take care of the ones close to you. I’ll be 2 streets west and Kamui Woods is up north.”

That information just made it worse for Enji. With multiple attacks at once, there was hardly a way for him to make it out of this situation easily with everyone alive.

“There’s gotta be a way...” he thought to himself.

Just then, the perpetrator leapt towards him. Instantly, he covered himself in fla-

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk hurting a 3month old fetus. As such, he got punched in the face, right at his eye with the scar. It was relatively brutal. He didn’t fly back or anything, but landed with a ‘thump’. However, he never really felt himself hitting the floor. The pain that was supposed to be at his eye also disappeared. He blinked a couple of times, only to see that his whole perspective had changed. Lying on the ground was his own body, in what seemed like deep sleep.

Looking to his up, he saw the perpetrator smirking. Clearly this guy had done something. Was his soul placed in that of a doll? No, the body he was in was definitely real. Could it be...? He had switched bodies with that child? He wanted to shout at the perpetrator but all that came out was an ear-piercing cry. In his body, the voice box had yet to develop. Just then, he had heard the perpetrator grunting.

“...Got ya.”

Enji recognized that voice as his youngest sons’. Shoto had used his ice quirk to freeze the perpetrator in place when he was distracted. His whole body from the neck down was meticulously frozen, with the exception of the arm carrying baby Enji too. Looking at the direction of his son in pedestrian clothing, he saw his soon-to-be-daughter-in-law behind him, along with the police. Members of the legal force approached the perpetrator and separated him from the hostage.

“Hey... what do we do with Endeavour?”

“That was a pretty nasty blow, he’ll feel it when he wakes up.”

“Just let the paramedics do their job. They’ll escort him to the hospital. Mr Shoto, as his som you’ll be going with him correct?”

In a disgruntled voice, Shoto looked to the floor and said

“Can we not...?”

“Shoto, he’s still your father so I don’t think it’s right for you to just leave him in the hospital like this. We’ll just be there till Fuyumi or Natsuo is there okay?” Momo smiled warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Even though Momo knew she was disliked by Enji, she still cared for him. She really was an angel with a heart made of gold. Shoto looked at his fiancée, smiling back at her before holding her hand.

“Along with other victims of this incident, they should be awake in one or two days.” The doctor had told Shoto and Fuyumi. “Including your father.”

Shoto nodded and proceeded to look at his sister.

“Why don’t you and Momo head on back first? I’ll be here with him. Mom & Natsuo are dropping by later too so leave him to us!” Fuyumi reassured her younger brother. He nodded again.

“By the way Mr Shoto... the only victim that’s hardly, well, affected, is that baby that was taken hostage. With the lack of manpower and chained robberies, may I trouble you to take care of the child for awhile? At least until his mother regains strength. She has already consented to it.”

As always, Shoto was persistent against such a request. Firstly, hospitals understaffed? He also couldn’t just take home someone’s child. Even though he was in the top 20 heros of the semester, he had a 3-month pregnant fiancée he should be taking care of, not someone elses’ child! But after pleadings of the Doctor, his sister and approval of his fiancée, they took Baby Enji home.

“Are you sure we can really do this?” Shoto asked, placing down the baby’s basinet on the kitchen table with Baby Enji inside. Strangely enough, he could hear what they were saying.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Momo replied with her usual warm smile. “Besides, it would be ‘a good practise round’ for this one here,” she said, placing a hand on her baby bump.

“Get me out of this body right now!! I’ve better things to do than just sleep and eat all day!” Enji screamed. However, what came out was only high-pitched cries.

“Is he hungry?” Shoto asked.

“Maybe. I’ll prepare the milk bottle first.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

Once again, Momo just gave that warm smile. Shoto grew up in a bad childhood, mainly knowing pain and anger. And he was the youngest child. He didn’t know how other parents would take care of their children. Confused and slightly robot-like, he picked up Baby Enji from the basinet.

“There...there...” he attempted to comfort, while holding Baby Enji in his arms. Enji, still crying and shouting, managed to look up at his son. Shoto was clearly bad at being a father. Every few seconds he’d look at the direction of the kitchen and ask what to do next or when Momo could take over. Enji then compared himself to his son at that moment.

‘Ah, I was like this before.’

It was when Rei had just given birth to Fuyumi. She was in confinement and all their relatives pushed Enji to be a father. So, one day when Fuyumi was crying, he had to pick her up and comfort her. And like Shoto’s current situation, he had constantly worried if he was doing something wrong. But unlike Shoto, he had a normal childhood and knew the meaning of love since he was a young boy. Clearly, Shoto had to learn the meaning of love on his own, and maybe... just maybe... it was his fiancée the taught him what love truly meant.

He then thought to himself, ‘How many years has it been since he’d done something like this?’

‘Like this’ in reference to taking care of his children not picking up a baby and cuddling it. In his own body with that bulky stature, it would be creepy or he’d probably crush the fragile newborn into pieces. He knew he was a bad father, separating his children based on strength and putting his own wife, the mother of his children, in a mental asylum for a decade or so. He’d already spent the past 4 years trying to repent his sins but it may have been too late. He had affected his childrens’ lives badly already. So much so as to lose one (a/n: temporarily who knows it depends when you’re reading this 🤪🤪)

“See, you’re doing great! He already stopped crying,” Momo had came back from the kitchen with a bottle of milk in her hands.

“Ah...so he did...” Shoto replied with what could be implied as a surprised face.

“I knew you’d make a good father!” Momo said, handing Shoto the bottle. He looked away, avoiding eye contact. Clearly, Shoto was still kinda shy about it. Baby Enji looked at Momo, that warm smile still on her face. Why did his son choose this woman of all people? He would have preferred it if he could have chosen his best son’s soulmate. Wait... fathers don’t do that. At least, Enji’s father didn’t. The quirk marriage was based on Enji’s own accord. Baby enji watched as Momo put a hand oh Shoto’s cheek and turned to look at her.

“You won’t be like him, Shoto. You would never become what you hate, or, used to hate,” Momo said to him.

“Yea... I just...” he looked down again, constantly avoiding eye contact with Momo. Still smiling, she closed her eyes and place her forehead on Shoto’s.

“You won’t deviate from the path we planned together, so don’t worry too much, okay? If you do however, I’ll always be here for you. Forever,” Momo reassured him.

“Yea...” Shoto closed his eyes too, and the both of them stayed in that embrace for awhile. That was when Enji had realized, how his ex-masterpiece learnt to love.

“Ah look, he’s quite now,”

“Yea... I guess so. Hey, Momo?”

“Yea?”

“You’d make a great mother.”

“And you’ll be a wonderful father.”

A few hours later, Shoto had received a call from the mother of the child. His aunt had drove 2 hours from Akita to take care of the child, since she didn’t want to impose on strangers. After returning the baby to the family, Endeavour had woken up to a white, unfamiliar ceiling. He had woken up and after a brief self-pat down, he had awoken in his own body. His son had made a good choice, he knew that now. He should probably thank his future daughter-in-law for helping his son.