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percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years ago

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Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 6: Age 18

“California is pretty far away,” Percy says softly into the night as Annabeth lays on the rooftop by his side. He hears her shift so that she can look at him, and he mirrors her, looking at his reflection in her pale eyes.

“2914.9 miles,” she answers.

“You really had to choose the farthest college from me didn’t you?”

Annabeth snorts and shakes her head.

“Yes Percy, I chose it purely because it’s the furthest from you in particular.” He pouts and pushes himself up on an elbow so he can look down at her.

“Why are you leaving me?”

“I’m not just leaving you Perce, I’m leaving everyone else as well. My Dad, my brothers, Thals, Grover...not just you.” Her face shifts and he sees sadness replace her joking smirk.

“Yeah but I’m special...I’m your favourite.” Percy is half-joking but he wishes with all his heart that the first part of his sentence is true, that he is in fact special to Annabeth. Special in the same way that Annabeth is special to him.

“Don’t let Thals hear that,” Annabeth says, rolling her eyes but Percy leans in closer, poking her repeatedly until she’s laughing.

“You’re only saying that because it’s true.”

“Shut up.” Percy notices how she doesn’t deny it and it brings a smile to his face.

“I’m going to miss you.” His heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze as his voice softens and his smile drops. Annabeth gives him a sad look and pokes his chest trying to get him to look at her properly.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now Seaweed Brain, we’ve still got summer.”

“And then you leave and forget me, and find a cool Perry Johnson to be your new best friend.” He says and dramatically throws his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s about to faint.

Annabeth groans and pushes him away so he falls back on the blanket they’ve laid out. The other two aren’t due to arrive for another hour, but Percy has been spending so much time at Annabeth’s house already, that it made no sense to go back to his last night, so he stayed over and helped set up the apartment rooftop for their sleepover under the stars.

He thinks they’ve done a pretty good job for the two of them, there’s an array of pillows, blankets and sheets all over the floor, and plenty of snacks to last them through the night. A couple of years ago, way back when they were younger, Mr Chase set up fairy lights along the edge of the roof, so they’re not in complete darkness, not that New York can ever be truly dark. The lights illuminate Annabeth’s features as Percy turns his head to her, she looks like a goddess and Percy swallows deeply when she returns his stare.

“What are you looking at?”

Percy shrugs and sits up so he can rearrange snacks that don’t need rearranging to hide his blush at being caught.

“Oh, I nearly forgot! Can you sign this, you never did?” Annabeth says changing the subject and tugs on his arm so he can come back and sit with her.

He looks at her confused until she brings out her yearbook. Their school emblem shines on the front cover, and she places it in his lap, pressing herself to his side, so she can flip the pages, looking for an empty space to write. On the back, there’s an entire blank page and she smooths the paper down and hands him a marker.

“All yours.” She says and watches him expectantly.

“Are you going to watch me write in it?” He twirls the pen uneasily and rubs the back of his neck, slightly uncomfortable under her intense gaze.

Annabeth huffs. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Can you?” He asks half-jokingly.

“You’re such an idiot. Fine. I’ll go check if there’s anything we forgot downstairs. Do you want anything?” He grins as she shakes her head, pretending to be annoyed.

“Anything blue.”

“Of course,” she mutters and gets up, using his shoulder to steady herself. He leans into the touch and tries to ignore the way his body misses her warmth when she leaves.

When she leaves Percy flips back to the front, reliving their senior year, one page at a time. He skips past the photos of the people in his grade and goes straight to the events. It starts with homecoming, and there’s a photo of Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Thalia all dressed in black suits. Percy smiles fondly at the close-up photo of Thalia and Annabeth posing together, in matching suits and corsets. Since Thalia broke up with Luke, she’s reintegrated back into the group with no issue, and it’s like she never left.

He turns the page, skipping through the other homecoming photos, and pauses at the one of him and Annabeth. It’s a candid, and even though he’s already seen it, his heart still stutters, because in the photo she’s fixing his hair in the photo right before the official photos like she always does, and Percy can’t help but think about how much they look like a couple.

He keeps turning through the pages, trying to find more photos of their group. They’re not a very social group, preferring to hang out with each other than go to school events, but they’re at all the major ones.

There are small snippets of them at the football games, student fairs and pep rallies, it’s not till the end where there are photos that focus more on students not part of clubs that he sees more pictures of his friends.

There’s one of them all laying on their back enjoying the sun looking up at clouds the way they used to when they were kids (completely unaware that someone is taking photos of them). There’s even a photo of Grover with Thalia on his shoulder as she tries to climb a tree with toilet paper in her hand from prank day. The next one is a blurry photo of Percy completely wrapped in toilet paper and chasing Annabeth.

Moments from their senior year have been captured and immortalised in these pages, and Percy’s heart heaves at the thought of leaving this all behind or watching people leave.

Tears start to prick at his eyes as he reaches the graduation and prom photos. There’s a huge shot of his entire grade, a choice of a few students throwing their caps up. In the corner on the page before the prom photos, there's a small snapshot of the four of them, their arms thrown around each other, heads pressed together. He remembers this moment vividly. All of their names are relatively close together in the roll, so as soon as they were announced, he had bolted straight to Grover, who had bolted to Thalia, who had bolted to Annabeth, and they had all ended up screaming and jumping into each other's arms.

He’s going to miss this.

He finally comes to the prom photos, and he’s not surprised when his breath catches in his throat when he sees Annabeth in her prom dress again. It’s a deep blue, the colour of the sky above his head, and it makes his stomach flutter each time he sees it. In the photo, she’s posing with Thalia again, but she’s mid-laugh and Percy would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favourite photos of her. He has copies of photos from the night on his computer, but the ones taken at the venue are better quality, it’s almost like he’s back there in the moment.

Thalia had come with a date, once again wearing a tight-fitting suit, a girl on her arm and Grover had brought Juniper, his girlfriend. Percy and Annabeth had agreed to go together, just because it was easier.

“Platonically,” he remembers telling Grover. He remembers Grover laughing and shaking his head.

“There is nothing platonic about you two but okay. Have fun, Perce.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grover had never explained what he meant and it still haunted Percy.

There isn’t a photo of the two of them at prom together, at least not in the yearbook, but he asked for a favour from a friend in the yearbook committee and has the photos that didn’t make it on a USB drive back home. His favourite is his wallpaper, and it’s of him and Annabeth dancing their heads bent close together. It’s not obvious it’s them two but he can recognise her blonde hair anywhere. That’s another moment he holds close, them dancing and swaying to a song they don’t recognise, whispering to each other in the night. He’d almost told her that night. Told her everything, about what he felt, about how he would always feel, but when she let go, he realised that he didn’t want to risk losing what they had. It was too precious to him.

Percy finally reaches the page that Annabeth initially brought him to and he uncaps the pen, tapping the back of it against the page a couple of times trying to think of a message. It’s not an accident that he didn’t write in Annabeth’s yearbook. When they were all doing it, Percy had purposefully avoided her because he knew that what he had to say to her couldn’t be said like this.

He sighs as he begins a doodle instead. A little owl because he knows that they’re her favourite, and a dolphin because they’re his. His mind is still blank at what to write to her, but he knows she’s not going to let him get away with not doing it this time.

He hears footsteps coming up the staircase and he writes the first thing that comes to his mind. The only thing that never leaves his mind when he’s around Annabeth. It’s not a long message so he’s finishing it just as Annabeth sits back down. He slams the book shut and chucks it behind him so that she can’t immediately read it. She notices and raises an eyebrow.

“Read it later. It’s embarrassing,” he says sheepishly. She laughs and hands him a bag of sour blue candy stripes. He tears open the package and starts eating as he hears other footsteps. Grover and Thalia appear in the doorway, holding pillows and even more bags of snacks.

“Let’s get this party started!” Thalia exclaims and drops her stuff unceremoniously on top of Percy, burying him under the wright. Everyone laughs at him as he sputters his way out.

Thalia plugs in some music and Annabeth helps pull Percy to his feet, and they start the feast of snacks. Grover helps Percy set up a projector for their movie and it’s nearing midnight when they finally settle on Disney’s Hercules.

As always Grover falls asleep halfway through the movie, murmuring about how his tummy hurts in his sleep. They take group selfies with him, and Percy grabs the marker next to Annabeth’s yearbook so that he can draw on Grover’s face. He’s holding back giggles with Thalia as they pose next to him and Annabeth takes a photo of them.

He pulls both girls close to him when he falls back and squeezes their shoulders.

“I can’t believe my favourite girls are leaving me to deal with this idiot,” he says and nods to Grover who has started snoring. Thalia scoffs and pushes his face so that he lets go of her. He gives in but doesn’t take his arm off Annabeth, and he swears that Annabeth cuddles just a bit closer to him.

“We’re not dying, Percy, we’re just moving to the West Coast,” Thalia says as she opens a can of coke and Percy briefly remembers how he first met Annabeth and how she had protected him from Nancy. He exchanges a look with her and sees that she’s already smiling at him, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.

“Betrayal. That’s what this is,” he says and squeezes Annabeth’s shoulder again. She threads their hands together and Percy tries not to react and turn to her again.

Thalia catches his eye and smirks at their interlocked hands.

She stands up and brushes her pants.

“I need to go pee, do you two need anything from downstairs?”

They both shake their heads and she nods before carefully stepping over a sleeping Grover and leaves the two of them.

Percy and Annabeth stay like that, leaning on each other, hands interlocked and Percy wishes he could freeze this exact moment.

“Did you write something?” Annabeth asks softly as she pulls away from him, but doesn’t let go of his hand. Percy nods tightly and she smiles as she reaches across from him and grabs the yearbook from their makeshift table. She skips straight to the back and opens to his page. She gave him an entire page to write on, but there’s only one sentence in the middle and two small doodles. She stares at it for a moment, rereading it before she looks up.

“You’re my number one,” Annabeth reads, holding the yearbook open at his page, “What does that mean?”

Percy swallows, suddenly terrified. There’s no time like now to tell her, and he has no real doubts about loving her, but with her unflinching gaze on him like this, it’s hard not to be nervous. He tries not to overthink and takes a deep breath, speaking the truth that he’s kept under wraps for years.

“There’s only one meaning, Wise Girl, what else could it mean?” He says with a shrug and reaches for her hand. She lets him take it. “My Mom once said that people who have a big heart have a lot of love in them to share, but they’ll always have their number one, and that’s you. That’s been you for years, my entire life probably.”

He takes another breath and waits for Annabeth to respond. When she doesn’t he continues, suddenly full of words. “You’re the one for me. The only one that I could ever want. The one I put before everything. You’re my-”

“Do you mean that?” Her face is full of doubt and Percy brings their joined hands up so he can press his lips to the back of her hand.

“Of course,” he breathes, and pulls her closer. He’s barely breathing when she puts the yearbook down for a moment. They stay frozen like that, pressed against each other, foreheads touching and breath mingling.

“I think I was made for loving you,” he whispers and carefully pushes her hair back.

The smile she gives him is one to rival the sun that is going to rise in a few hours.

“If that’s so, then I was made for loving you just as much.”

She kisses him, and he almost forgets his name. He brings his hands up to cup face and bring her closer and she smiles against his lips and-

“Seriously? You two couldn’t wait until after I was asleep. Jeez.”

Annabeth jerks away from him and they both stare at Thalia who is giving them a tired look from the rooftop doorway. Percy can’t help it and starts laughing, shortly after Annabeth joins and falls onto his chest, laughing too hard to keep herself up. Eventually, Thalia sits back down and bites her lip trying not to laugh, but the more she tries to keep it in the funnier it gets.

By then all three of them are laughing so hard their stomach hurts and Grover stirs awake.

“What’s going on?”

“This,” Annabeth says and proudly holds up her hand that is still firmly clasped in Percy’s hand.

Grover blinks sleepily at it and shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

“About freaking time,” he says and lays back down.

Percy and Annabeth look at each other again and he smiles at her before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth.

“It was worth the wait.”

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

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a beautiful sight

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: peter maximoff is good at getting himself into trouble. you’re good at getting him out of trouble. what happens when you get tired of the same old routine?

warnings: there is angst for a moment and then they just start fucking. language warning and also sexual content warning

notes: this took so long. this took me so long to write. this took me so long to write and i am so sorry about that. this is 4k words long i hope that eases the pain. also i tried to keep the pronouns gender neutral but since they are having sex the reader is written to have “female” genitalia

taglist: @stranger-names @gooseyhouse @parkersdarling @amourtentiaa @toodles-me-doodles @rottenstyx

Your hands gripped the leather steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, your teeth clenching so hard you feared your jaw would snap. Fat raindrops smashed against the windshield before quickly being swept away by the automatic wipers. Street lamps and stop lights sparkle in the rain, making for a beautiful sight; if you were traveling under different circumstances, you’d probably enjoy the drive. Unfortunately, you were currently being crushed by your current situation, anger simmering within your stomach.

You pulled up in front of the police station, a withering sigh escaping your chest before the car locks popped open. Determined to keep your composure in front of a bunch of cops-- who, admittedly, you were not on the best terms with-- you kept your chin up and expression stoic as you walked through the rain into the main lobby of the station.

The police station was exactly like how someone would expect it to be: the floor was covered with dull white, the walls a similar shade of white. An unsuspecting visitor would be immediately greeted by the uncomfortable and unwelcoming lobby, decorated only with a dying fern in the corner. Four grey chairs sat against the wall, a small wooden side table between them. There were magazines on the table, each one more brain dead and empty than the last. One could only compare reading said magazines to eating only empty calories for their entire lives.

A shell of a receptionist sat behind a large desk across the room, and you walked directly over. This one is new-- you’d been here three times in the past three months, but you didn’t recognize her. She was typing away at a computer, her eyes tired and sunken in. There was a coffee cup sitting next to her, but it looked as if it remained untouched for hours. Sluggishly, she looked up at you.

“How can I help you?” Her voice matched her exterior, a deep fatigue dripping off her words, Obviously, she didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t really blame her. Who would want to work in such a lifeless place?

“I’m here to pick up my boyfriend,” You sound tired, not as tired as the receptionist, but still tired. She shoots you a sympathetic look.

“Name?”

“Peter Maximoff.”

You catch a glimpse of the receptionist’s name tag, quickly learning that her name is Nicole. She types something into her computer, adjusting her glasses and leaning in slightly.

“Alright, miss, he’ll be out in a few minutes. You can take a seat over there,” Nicole gestured over to the makeshift waiting room and you nodded.

“Thank you,” Like clockwork, you spun on your heel and landed in the uncomfortable chair that had gotten used to your presence.

You hated police stations. They had a certain soul-sucking quality to them; whether or not that quality comes from the poor souls that get thrown behind bars or the pieces of shit that put them there is up for individual interpretation. Police stations reeked of stale coffee and sweat, the occasional police siren cutting through the air every hour or so. The sound alone was hair-raising, especially to someone who landed themselves on the “wrong” side of the law uncomfortably often.

The sound of footsteps approached the double doors to your left, and soon enough Peter walked through them, his hands still bound in handcuffs. The police officer that escorted him out unlocked his cuffs before disappearing back behind the doors, leaving the two of you in the lobby alone. Well, mostly alone. Nicole was still sitting behind the counter, looking as unenthused as ever. Peter rubbed his wrists, his pale skin an angry red where his cuffs constricted them.

He had a black eye, his silver hair messy and unkempt. The Nirvana t-shirt he was wearing was ripped, and dozens of small cuts and bruises littered his body. You already knew he got into a fight, you just didn’t realize how banged up he had gotten. A part of you pitied him. Upon seeing his injuries, you almost allowed yourself to let go of the anger that had been festering inside of you. Somehow, you restrained yourself. Silently, you turned and walked out the front doors of the police station.

“Y/n--” Peter calls after you, an incoming apology hanging on his lips. You got to the car before he could catch up to you, quickly entering the driver’s seat and waiting in silence. Soon enough, Peter clambers in.

“Y/n, I--”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you cut him off, frustration evident in your voice. Wisely, Peter held his tongue. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep recklessly running through the city doing whatever the hell you want. I can’t keep bailing you out, I won’t keep bailing you out.”

“I’m really sorry, doll,” He sounds like he’s being genuine, but you were going to need a lot more than one measly ‘sorry’. “I just… I saw these guys beating up some teenager in an alley. I couldn’t let that slide, and god knows the cops aren’t going to do anything about it. I did what I thought was right,”

“I’m not mad at you for that, Peter. I would’ve done the exact same thing if I was in your position, I’m just… worried. I know you think you need to stand up for the little guys, but you can’t keep putting yourself at risk. I hate seeing you all beaten up like this,” You sighed, taking Peter’s hand in yours. His knuckles were bruised, the new purple splotches decorating his skin. The bruises from the last unfortunate encounter weren’t even fully healed you.

“I swear, this is the last time you’ll have to do this. I promise,” He smiled weakly at you, and somehow, you managed to swallow the fury that had built up inside of you.

“It better be.” You ran your thumb over his injured hand, watching as the dark purple patches disappeared. Thankfully, your mutation guarantees that all of the scrapes and scratches will heal quickly. “Now, let’s go home so I can bandage you up.”

“I’d like that,” Peter smiles softly. His hand remains in yours as he rests his head against the car window, watching other cars whiz by in the rain. The street lights illuminated the sharp angles and delicate curves that made up his face. Even with a busted lip, Peter was still one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the sound of raindrops pattering against the windshield lulling you both. It was late, the sun had long plunged past the horizon and a dusting of stars had appeared in the night sky. You noticed a few constellations as you drove to your apartment, the three signature stars of Orion’s belt catching your eye. A few months prior, Peter had taken you to a large field in the middle of nowhere, the scenery free of the light pollution the cityscape provided. He talked for hours about the stars, going from constellations to the lore behind them to the planets themselves; he even spoke about the star signs. He spoke with such passion, you felt as if you could listen to him talk for hours.

You pulled up in front of your apartment, quickly switching off the car. The rain gradually grows harder as you and Peter scurry up the pathway to the apartment lobby. Peter practically dragged you inside; it was obvious that he was struggling to contain his speed. As it turns out, hiding superpowers is much harder than initially expected. With every mutation-suppressing day that passes, Peter grows more antsy and you grow more anxious.

“You alright, silver?”

“Yeah, I just wanna get home,” he replies, but it’s too quick. He’s too eager to ward off your concern. He’s hiding something.

“Peter, don’t lie to me,” Your words are obviously a warning, but they come out much softer than intended. Peter is visibly unwell-- you can’t believe you hadn’t noticed it sooner.

“Really, I’m fine, it’s no big deal,” It was obvious that he was trying to reassure you and quell your worries, but he was failing miserably. Finally, he surrendered. “Seriously, I’m totally okay. I’m just a little sore and, uh… bleeding,” It’s only then that he lifts up the part of his shirt that hadn’t been torn, revealing a poorly bandaged gash-- you can only assume he got stabbed.

“Oh my god,” You gasped, taking a sharp step forward. “Peter, you-- what-- how have-- oh my god,”

“It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it’s just--”

“It is not okay! Not in the slightest!” You pulled him into the nearest empty elevator, immediately slamming your hand on the button for the fourth floor. Peter looked pale and sickly, and upon closer inspection you realized that he was trembling. Still, Peter managed to smile softly.

“I’m okay, dollface, really,” The elevator dinged, and you practically yanked him out of the small compartment. “Once we get home, you can patch me up, good as new, just like always,”

“Peter, why didn’t you tell me?” You fumble with the keys to your apartment, a metallic jingling punctuating your words. After what felt like a billion years, you finally managed to shove the key into the handle and throw the door open.

Like clockwork, you fell into the routine you’d come to know so well. Peter sat on the kitchen counter, taking off his torn and tattered shirt and waiting patiently for you to come to his aid. You took a sharp left into the bathroom, your knees hitting the floor as you dig through the cabinet under the sink. The glimmering white gloss of the first aid kit caught your eye; within seconds you had yanked it out from between the extra toilet paper and the windex. Although you could heal the worst of the cut with your mutation, you still had to bandage it and disinfect the giant gash.

“Okay-- just try to hold still. You know the drill,” Peter nodded slightly, sharply inhaling as you pressed your fingertips to his pale skin. He leans back on his hands, his eyebrows furrowing as he hisses. The open wound on his abdomen begins to slowly recombine causing blood to gush out of the cut. You’re quick to wash it away with a wet cloth. As extraordinary as your healing abilities might be, they don’t take away the painfulness of any given laceration. For the next minute or so, your beautiful boyfriend is going to be in near agony. Peter’s head falls back as he tries his best to avoid looking at his injury-- he claims it “always makes it worse”.

“We’re almost done, Peter. You’re doing very well,” You soothe, trying your best to make the process as quick as possible. Peter whimpers as the cut closes and the blood flow stops. The skin where the cut closed was still very red and tender, and any sudden movement risks reopening the wound. This one was particularly bad, the severity and depth of the injury dangerous enough to warrant the consideration of double bandaging.

A deep sigh escaped your chest; you were tired of this routine. This awful, never-ending chain reaction that almost always ended with you trying to scrub blood out of your clothes. The police station, the arguments, the cuts and gashes and hushed apologies-- you were just so tired. And you loved Peter, you really did, but he didn’t love himself. He was willing to put his own survival on the backburner at the drop of a hat, and even though he usually came out fine, the thought of him getting hurt was weighing down on you.

“Y/n?” Peter chimes up, his voice pained and gravelly. You hum in response, too occupied with disinfecting the now healed cut to answer with a full sentence. Peter winced every time you pressed the washcloth to his skin. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, his voice wavering with each brush of the rag. Genuine remorse coated his every word, and beneath the gentle tremors and the sharp breathing, his voice is thick with building tears.

Peter sits up, a strangled grunt forcing its way out of his mouth. He moves slowly, trying desperately not to agitate the healing skin on his stomach. His shoulders slumped over and his head hung low, strands of silver hair falling over his eyes. It’s getting long. You’ll have to cut it later. Gently, you run your hand through his hair and pull his head up so your eyes meet. Some of the tears had spilled over, leaving glistening tracks in their wake.

“I’m so sorry,” He coughed, although it seemed as if he was trying to cover a sob. You pulled him off the counter before wrapping your arms around his waist, minding his injury. His skin is warm and littered with scars. He practically collapses on your, gripping at your shirt like it’s his lifeline. “You do so much for me, and I always end up asking for more. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,”

“Peter, it’s okay--”

“No! It isn’t! You drove all the way across town at midnight to pick me up from the police station, only to immediately find out that I got stabbed and decided to hide it from you,” he stuttered, his grip on you tightening ever-so-slightly. “I’ve been a really shitty boyfriend lately,”

“Hey, look at me,” you softly cup his face with your hand, running your thumb over the fading bruises from past altercations with assholes in alleyways. Peter Maximoff is nothing if not a hero at heart. “Yes, lately you’ve been reckless and it freaks me out. Sure, I didn’t exactly think I’d be spending my Friday night sitting in a police station waiting room. And, yeah, I’d prefer if you didn’t hide stab wounds from me, but you are not a shitty boyfriend. You’re a wonderful boyfriend who happens to have an uncontrollable urge to help others, even at your own expense,” You press a kiss to his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes once again.

“I just don’t want you to get tired of me,” Peter’s voice is quiet and vulnerable, hesitancy hiding between the syllables.

“Me? Tired of you? Impossible,” you enthused, reveling in the slight smile that cracked on Peter’s porcelain face. “I just hope you don’t get sick of my constant worrying,”

“You know I could never,” A grin grew on his face, and suddenly the sadness and the tension in the air was replaced with content. Peter looked at you with admiration, and within seconds his lips were on yours.

Any remnants of the anger you once felt was snuffed out like a dying candle. Your head felt warm and fuzzy as Peter’s hands found their way to your hips. If someone were to tell you that Peter had a secret secondary mutation that granted him the power to subdue any person just by kissing them, you’d believe them wholeheartedly. There was something about the way he leaned against you, encapsulating you in a tight embrace as every aspect of personal space was thrown out the window. You’d call it intimacy, but it seemed like so much more than that. Sometimes words aren’t heavy enough to describe what you felt for Peter, and what he felt for you. That’s alright, though. You do what you can with the words you have.

Your silver-haired companion takes a tentative step forwards and you proceed to follow his lead, walking backwards until your back hits the wall. He huffs, pulling away from you for a split second so he can whirl you around; Peter always preferred to be the one against the wall, for lack of a better analogy. It didn’t take a genius or a prognosticator to see where this was heading, and judging by the eagerness behind his movements, Peter could see it too.

Hesitantly, you push him away from you for just a moment. His chest rises and falls in a brisk rhythm as he rests his forehead against yours. You’re still pressed against his chest, and he’s still clutching you like you’re some sort of flight risk. Almost instinctively, you run your hand through his shimmering silver hair.

“Peter, less than ten minutes ago you were lying on my counter with an open wound. Are you sure you’re feeling up for this?” A wide smile grew on Peter’s face, and with each passion second you could see his signature cocky stature returning. You knew it wouldn’t last much longer, but hey, might as well let him enjoy it while it’s there.

“You fixed me up pretty well, dollface,” Peter pecks you on the cheek and a momentary chuckle escapes you. “I feel better already,”

“Alright, if you say so,” You grab him by the collar and pull his lips to yours once again. The kiss was eager and needy-- Peter melted beneath your touches, just like always. You ran your hands over his bare skin, reveling in the shutters and shivers that ran up his spine. He pulled you closer, almost as if he thought you’d disappear if he let go. Gently, you raised your arm and began to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, accidentally tugging on the silver strands.

This seemed to set something off in Peter, and in the blink of an eye you found yourself lying on your bed with him hovering over you. His lips were on your neck in an instant, leaving a trail of soft kisses that led all the way down to your collarbone. You could feel Peter’s warm hands snaking under your shirt, tentatively caressing your skin. Although you’ve done this a thousand times, he was still incredibly focused on making sure you were enjoying the interaction as much as he was.

You spurred him on in the most obvious way possible; by pulling him back up to your face and flipping him over, swinging your leg over his hips and resting your hands on his bare chest. This position oh-so-conveniently happened to result in your knee pressing directly against Peter’s crotch. You’re quick to replace your knee with your hand, gentle palming him through his impossibly tight jeans. He swallows back a groan, his teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to break his skin. You’re quick to reach up and wipe away the blood that formed on his lip, a smirk growing on your face.

“Careful, pretty boy. Wouldn’t wanna hurt yourself any more than you already have, now, would you?” The sudden use of his favorite pet name sent shivers down Peter’s spine, his heart rate steadily increasing with every second that passes. You quickly unbutton his jeans before pulling them off, dragging your nails down his thighs as you do so. Before you had the chance to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, he managed to use his mutation to flip you onto your back. His hands pinned your wrists to the mattress, a smirk stuck on his face.

“Y’know, you really do take great care of me,” Slowly, Peter starts making his way down your body. There’s something about how the light hits his face, casting shadows over his sharp features that make him look like some sort of greek god. He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops along your waistband, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second. “I think it’s about time I take care of you,” With that, Peter fluidly tugs off your jeans, discarding the rest of your clothing before settling between your thighs. He rests your legs on his shoulders, his hot breath fanning over your cunt and sending shivers up your spine. The feeling of light kisses on your thighs catches your attention and frustration spreads throughout your chest. You reach down and tug on Peter’s hair, whining in reaction to his ceaseless teasing. He looks up at you through his eyelashes with a cocky smirk growing on his face. After one last sultry look, Peter lurches forward and buries his face in the apex of your thighs.

A low moan escapes you as a soft string of praises falls from your lips. The grip you held on his hair tightened as Peter’s tongue circled your clit, sending white-hot waves of pleasure through your body. He pulls his hand off your thigh and immediately buries two of his fingers inside of you. Your head was scrambled, any semblance of coherency that you once had flying out the window with each jerk of Peter’s hand.

“Fuck, Peter,” You moaned just a little too loud. Just when you were regaining some sense of composure, the earth-shattering feeling of rapid vibrations ignites every nerve in your body. The combination of Peter’s vibrating fingers buried inside of you and the feeling of his lips working at your clit was just too much, and within seconds you were spasming around his fingers and calling his name.

You can’t bring yourself to form words, instead opting to pull him back up to your lips. All either of you could do was grab at each other, desperately trying to pull the other closer than you already were. Peter practically tore off whatever clothing that got in his way, leaving the both of you completely bare. With one last glance up at your face, he waited for confirmation before pushing his cock inside of you.

It was as if everything fell into place, the feeling of fullness and passion sending electricity through your body. You hooked your leg around his side, pulling him deeper inside of you as his thrusts fell into a steady rhythm. His pounding was relentless, his chest heaving with every jerk. Peter’s name fell from your lips like a mantra as he punctuated your words with deep thrusts.

“S-So good, Peter,” Your words are slightly slurred as you look up at his face. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration; long, low moans fell from his swollen lips, and for a moment, it felt like music to your ears. “Such a good boy for me,”

Peter whimpered and his movements faltered; in one final act of defiance, you used your leverage to flip in around once more. You anchor yourself on his chest before rolling your hips against his, watching Peter’s eyes roll back as you begin bouncing on his cock. A string of senseless noises and incoherent ramblings fall from his lips as he thrusts his hips upwards to meet your movement. His nails dig into your hips so hard that it hurts-- you can’t exactly blame him.

“Y-Y/n, please,” Peter begged helplessly, tears building in his eyes. He didn’t know exactly what he was begging for, but he begged regardless. The feeling was so much; it was everything at once, and it was so good he almost couldn’t take it. “P-please, please...” He trailed off.

One slight adjustment resulted in Peter slamming into your sweet spot, causing your moans to get damn near screams. Your nails left angry red trails on Peter’s chest, taking their place amongst the countless hickies you left behind before. Then, in a beautiful amalgamation of moans and whimpers and screams, you and Peter came in unison. He snapped his one last time before throwing his head back, emptying himself deep inside of you.

You watch Peter’s face intently, his eyes fluttering closed and his hair sticking out in every direction. He was practically glowing; completely blissed-out with a golden halo hanging over his head. A soft smile played about his lips as he began to finally catch his breath-- it’s only now that you see the dozens of little marks you left on his body. An odd sense of pride filled your body and for a moment you felt like an expert artist admiring your latest mural.

Slowly, you pulled yourself off of him, collapsing to his side and exhaling deeply. He immediately wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Peter is practically radiating warmth, a strong sense of comfort settling over you and you gently trace his collarbones.

“I love you, y’know that?” His voice is quiet and dripping with fatigue; it’s music to your ears.

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” You joked. Peter chuckled and rolled his eyes before resting his head on top of your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I love you too. Nerd.” He seemed satisfied with that response, nuzzling his face further into your touch.

Rain softly drummed against the windows, light from the moon and from the city skyline reflecting off the droplets like a billion multi-colored stars. Peter had drifted off to sleep, the gentle glow from the outside world making him look like an angel that fell out of the sky and into your bedroom. Your eyelids grow heavy, and as you succumbed to the influence of a deep sleep, you kept your eyes trained on Peter’s face. He truly was a beautiful sight.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #xmen #wandavision

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chibi-mushroom · 4 years ago

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Hey everyone! Finally get to post my piece for the memory of promises zine! check out the link here if you want to grab one of your own copies in the leftover sale! I was so happy to be able to join in on this zine, and I hope you guys enjoy all the work that went into it! (Also keep in mind this was written before MoM.)

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Namine rubbed her temples and looked at the clock. Midnight already. DiZ was not going to like this. The next time he came into the white room would bring on some lecture or punishment of some kind. She had been working furiously all afternoon trying to get past this one section of memory, but there was something that was keeping her back. Her pulse began to race. She was feeling sick. The door to the white room opened and with a squeak, Namine ducked under the table, fearing the familiar stride of the man in red.

"It's okay, it's just me. You can come out now." A soft voice sounded in her ears. "You're safe. DiZ said he needed to run an errand and wouldn't be back for a couple of days."

Slowly looking up, Namine could see the outstretched hand of the only comfort she had in this lonely place. "Riku. You're back."

She took his offering and stood up. He hadn't let go of her hand just yet, blindfold still covering those beautiful blue green eyes he had. She was glad it stopped him from seeing things like her girlish blush. He was only offering his hand as a friend. Besides, it was wrong for her to want to be with him- nobodies weren't supposed to feel anything. So why did she?

"You're shaking." Riku stated simply. "Have you eaten anything today?"

So he could even feel the slight tremor in her hands. "No, not exactly."

"Do you want me to get something for you? I think there are some leftovers in the fridge."

"No, I'm alright. I have to get back to work." Namine tried to take her hand from his, but he held onto it all the tighter, leaning down a little to be at eye level with her.

"You were working when I left, and I can tell you haven't gotten any sleep. How are you expecting to take care of Sora when you can't take care of yourself?"

Right. Namine thought. He's just like DiZ. All he cares about is getting Sora restored. You're just a tool.

Still, she couldn't help but notice the way her breath caught in her throat as his blinded eyes sunk to meet her tired ones. Maybe she should take a small break. All of this stress was making her read too much into small gestures.

Namine simply nodded, and Riku left to warm her up some food. Sensing that going back to Sora's memories would be futile, she grabbed her sketch pad and turned it to the very last page. This was her secret page, covered in things she thought about. Mindless doodles she drew when she was waiting for the computer to check on Sora’s physical well-being.

The sketch pad was not necessary for her magic to work. She could rearrange memories- crush the hearts of her poor unsuspecting victims- without it. She used it though to help her concentrate. By visualizing the memories, she was able to make a more convincing edit or capture the feelings that were hiding beneath the surface. So many times she had drawn Sora, Riku and Kairi together. And sure there were strong feelings of both love and jealousy, but had she not had her sketch pad, she might have missed Sora's emotions of gratitude for two stalwart best friends, confusion about school topics they had recently studied, and hope that Kairi would want to go with him to the first school dance, even though he knew they would just go together and bail early to hang out on the play island like they always did whenever the school had some social.

"Here you go. It's nothing special, but it's better than nothing." Riku interrupted her thoughts with a plate of food.

With a gasp, Namine hurried to cover her sketch pad. Even though she knew he couldn't see it, he moved so gracefully that she sometimes wondered if he really was blind. Although those first couple of days made the mansion quite a bit louder with his cries of annoyance as he bumped into furniture. He even fell into the secret compartment that hid the computer lab, but luckily managed to land safely.

"Drawing something you don't want anyone to see?" Riku smirked.

"No!" Namine replied a bit sharper than she thought. "Maybe."

Riku laughed as he set their plates down and pulled a chair over. "I'm only kidding. You don't have to be working on Sora nonstop. If you want to take a moment for yourself, then do it."

"No, I need to be working on Sora. It was my fault he's like this in the first place. I want to keep my promise." Namine picked up the white plastic fork. For once would it hurt to have some color around here?

With a sigh, Riku held his hand out for her to hold. "We've been over this, Nam. What happened wasn't your fault. You were being used." Softly Riku muttered "you still are."

Namine looked at him for a moment and then looked down at her food. She picked at it for a few moments before softly sliding her hand in his and taking a couple of bites. She ate in a comfortable silence, simply feeling the pressure that came from the gentle touch. This sort of thing wasn't unusual for them. They could usually be found in silence with their hands connected. But the mountain of pressure from the recent block in memories and lack of self care was threatening to squish Namine with its enormous weight.

"How's the restoration going?" Riku asked.

Namine's stomach began to twist around itself. "I'm….not sure."

Riku squeezed her hand, urging her to explain. Namine sighed, unsure of how to continue. Would he get mad if she told the truth? He had slowly been becoming more like DiZ, after all. He used to be there with her when she was getting told off. These days, Riku was never usually in the white room for more than five minutes unless it was late at night.

"You remember what Sora's mom used to tell him all the time, right?" Riku recalled.

"Never talk to strangers on the play island?"

Riku chuckled, remembering a secret promise. "A problem shared is a problem halved. If you tell me, it might relieve some of the pressure on you."

There was no avoiding it, not as long as he held her hand.

"It's just that, well-" Namine fumbled for the words. "There's been a bit of a roadblock. I've been doing my best to sort it out, tracing the connections, but it's like the memories slip away as soon as I think I have a grasp on them. I may have gone through half a notebook trying to find a solid piece."

There was a pause, as if Riku were considering what to say.

"I'll go get you a new notebook tomorrow, then. As for the memories, we'll get it figured out. You need to take a break, anyway."

"No!" Namine swallowed back further emotion. Maybe she really did need some sleep. She was being more irrational than she expected. "No, it's fine. I'm sure I'm doing something wrong."

"Don't say stuff like that. If there's anyone who can make this situation right, it's you. Please, just take a few hours to rest tomorrow, okay?" Riku squeezed her hand again.

"I don't really have a choice here, do I?" Namine sighed.

"You always have a choice. I'm just asking you as someone who cares a lot about you."

Someone who cares? Namine thought. She slowly nodded in reply. Maybe a break was exactly what she needed.

"Thank you, Riku."

One Year Later

Again Riku tried to beat Marluxia, and again he was defeated. He only had this last battle to finish, having started against the organization members he recognized or had personally fought against. Which, admittedly wasn't many, but after several attempts, he was down to the last. It frustrated him that he still wasn't quite used to the keyboard controls, and Sora's moves were much less based in strength and relied much more on magic. Riku had never been very good with magic, focusing on perfecting his cure and dark firaga spells instead of learning the large array of magic that his friends had mastered.

Some keyblade master I turned out to be. Riku thought, sitting back in his seat and folding his arms. I can't even stop my two best friends from leaving me again. This is just like back then…

His mind began to drift away with thoughts of Castle Oblivion and Twilight Town. He heard the door open and gentle footsteps move toward him.

"Hey Aerith. We can work on that scarf in a minute. I have to get some more ethers for data Sora first."

"I take it the fight didn't go well then?" A soft voice walked closer.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Not Aerith.

"Hey Namine. How could you tell?"

Namine placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "You're really tense. Besides, I could feel your frustration from a block away."

What anger and annoyance had once plagued Riku's mind had since washed away. All he could register was how reassuring Namine's hand on his shoulder felt. She smelled nice, too. A faint blush warmed his cheeks. Ever since Kairi had insisted on going to sleep and Terra had left for the dark realm with Aqua and Ven, Namine was the only person Riku shared everything with. She had heard him vent several times, and she had been helping Aerith teach him how to knit. It was her delicate fingers that had lead him through the steps of a cable.

"I guess I need a little bit of a break." Riku said with a sigh. "Wanna go get some ice cream or something?"

"Sure." Namine smiled, stepping back so he could get up and stretch. They began to talk as they walked to their usual ice cream shop.

Since Scrooge, Huey and Dewey had returned home, the ice cream shop had been manned by one of the local citizens. He usually gave Riku a discount, so Riku usually put some munny in the tip jar. It had become routine over the past year to go whenever Namine came to visit from Twilight Town.

"How is everything going with Roxas and Xion?" Riku asked, sitting down and unwrapping his fruit bar.

"Slow." Namine replied, taking a small lick from her chocolate cherry ice cream cone. She wanted to try all of the flavors, and this was the last one. "Not too bad, but I think I preferred the strawberry cheesecake the best."

"That was a flavor Kairi always liked." Riku smiled softly.

When he saw the way Namine looked for just the hair of a second, he realized that was probably the wrong thing to say. He inwardly cursed himself and his inability to be the suave guy all the girls had thought he was growing up. Kairi and Namine didn't get much of a chance to talk after she got her replica body, as Kairi had almost immediately asked to be put under. Riku wondered what it was like living inside a heart of pure light. Just like Castle Oblivion, she didn't talk about it much.

"We should get some for her when she wakes up." Namine continued to eat her cone. There was an uncomfortable silence for just a moment before Namine spoke up again. "Who were you fighting when I came in?"

"Marluxia. He was the head of the castle, right?"

Namine nodded.

"I never really got to meet him as I was down in the basement back then. I'm sorry you had to deal with a guy like him."

"It's alright. I...had some support. There was Sora and Donald and Goofy. And despite everything I did to him, there was your replica, too." Namine spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. "But don't feel bad. He made his decisions, like everyone else."

This time, it was Riku's turn to nod in agreement, taking a bite from his treat.

"After the data battles are all said and done, what happens next?" Namine asked softly.

"I...don't know. All I know is that I've been having these weird dreams lately."

"I wondered. You look tired." Namine grabbed on to Riku's hand, intertwining their fingers.

Maybe it was a reflex, maybe it was a force of habit, like how they used to sit back in the old mansion. Either way, the touch on its own was enough to pull Riku away from the dark thoughts that usually sat at the horizon of his mind. He squeezed her hand in response.

"Don't hesitate to call me if you ever need someone to talk to. I miss our little midnight chats." Namine admitted.

"I do too." Riku smiled softly. "They really helped clear my mind back then."

"A problem shared is a problem halved, remember?" Namine was glad she could actually see his eyes as she recalled back to his words that helped her through her time at the old mansion. "Care to share anything?"

Riku paused. He sighed before starting to speak. After he told her of the recurring dream he'd been having with the buildings and the feeling of being watched, he also admitted to the weight that had been pinned on his shoulders.

"I know it might sound silly, but I can't help but wonder if these dreams are connected to Sora somehow. I just wish I could understand it more." Riku finished his bar and set the popsicle stick on the bench beside him.

Namine had just finished her ice cream as well, wiping her face with the napkin. "Maybe it's time you take another journey."

"With the data battle still to fight and Kairi still asleep? I can't leave now."

"Maybe not now, but after the last battle is won." Namine gently pulled his hand close to her and began massaging it. "But that means I can't follow you. Will you be alright on your own? Maybe you can check Kairi's dreams."

"I...don't know. I haven't used my dream eater powers in a long time and the process is still kind of fuzzy for me." He could feel his muscles relax as she worked at his weary hand.

Doubt was rising in his chest. Maybe she was right. Who was he kidding? He wasn't ready for this kind of thing. He wasn't like Sora or Kairi who could follow their hearts at a moment's notice. He couldn't always feel the way it was trying to lead him.

But as he saw Namine patiently working on his hands, the stiff muscles being brought to relax against her fingers, a light shone through the storm of his doubt. How he hadn't realized it before was a mystery. Ever since they had met, she had been the light in the dark, just as he had provided shade for her in the brightest situations. As she finished the massage, she tenderly squeezed his hands, reassuring him that she was there and willing to help. Surely that was love.

He felt love for her, no question. But with Sora and Kairi gone and asleep, there never seemed to be a good moment to tell her what his heart really wanted to say.

"We...we should be getting back." Namine sighed. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"No, but then, I'm not really all that sure of anything anymore."

"If there's anything I know, it's that things will get better. We'll find Sora. I don't know how or when, but we will." Namine took his hand again, standing before him.

Namine took a quick breath and then leaned over, placing a quick kiss atop his head. Ordinarily, she wouldn't be able to reach, but since he was sitting down, she could offer a small token of her affection and confidence in his abilities.

She and Riku's faces filled with blush, although a smile tugged at her lips. Namine didn't have enough courage to kiss him on the lips like she had wanted to for so long, but this was safe. He couldn't spurn her for a harmless kiss to the head. After all, what was some reassurance between friends?

"Thank you, Namine." Riku had a hard time looking at this angel of a woman without his heartbeat increasing.

To think she was willing to be by his side after all this. He decided there and then that he would listen to his heart and tell her of his feelings...after they set everything right. Once Sora and Kairi were home and together, then they could sort out their own relationship. It would give him yet another reason to bring his best friend home.

He could still feel the kiss on his forehead, and it brought a genuine smile to his face. He stood up and began walking away from Merlin's house.

"Don't feel like you have to stop working on the data battles on my account. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright." Namine stopped for a second.

"We can get back to those soon enough. I need a little longer before I get back into it." He took his trash and threw it into a nearby can. "There are some fountains that are really pretty this time of day nearby if you want to check them out with me."

A smile formed on Namine's lips. "I'd love to, Riku."

#RikuNami #namiku #mopzine #kh fanfiction #riku #namine #post Re:Mind #Pre MoM

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Another One?!, Part 3

First > Previous > Next

Marinette took one long, deep breath.

“What the fuck, Adrien?”

Adrien gave an awkward smile that made her want to forgive him… but, no, she must stay strong.

“It’s a cool car!”

She clicked her tongue. “Yes. Yes it is. But none of us can drive.”

“We have to learn at some point, though. Dick is going to uni soon, and it’s not like we can homeschool him for that. And there is no way I’m going to let him take the bus.”

Marinette winced. Okay, fair point.

Adrien must have realized that he was convincing her, because he chose that moment to bring out the pout.

Kwami…

She clicked her tongue once to show she was still irritated but nodded that he could have it.

He grinned and turned to look over his shoulder. “Told you I could convince her.”

Dick popped out of the bushes with a whoop.

Betrayal.

“WHY THE HECK DID I GET THE FAST CAR --?!”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING ME --?!”

“STOP YELLING AT EACH OTHER AND WATCH THE ROAD --!”

“PULL OVER IT’S MY TURN TO LEARN TO DRIVE --!”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE WE’RE GONNA DIE WE’RE GONNA DIE --!”

Marinette glared at the three new driver’s licenses they had all somehow scammed their way into getting, then turned her gaze on Dick.

“I love you but if you flunk out first semester I will stab you.”

He smiled and wrapped his mom in a hug. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Bitch, try me.”

Dick wasn’t fazed, squeezing her tighter.

She huffed and reluctantly hugged back. “Okay, fine, maybe not, but I will not be happy.”

“I love youuuuuu.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

Adrien sighed as he looked at his kid’s grades so far. He’d been scared of this. College was a lot of adjustments already, and to add to that he was going straight from homeschool to normal classes and the school wasn’t giving him nearly as much help as it should.

Dick was stealing anxious looks at him out of the corner of his eyes, his legs drawn to his chest on the couch.

Adrien reached out and ruffled his hair gently. “It’s fine. We’ll get you a tutor, okay?”

He didn’t suggest changing majors. Dick wouldn’t do it if he did, though he wished he would. It’s law school. Everyone knows that you can’t have a life and still go to law school, jobs and stuff are supposed to be put on hold when you go and there was no way Dick was going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. But…

“Also, try playing a game on your computer or doodling while you’re listening to the lecture. That might help you stay focused.”

Dick nodded with a tired smile.

“And you’re going to have to cut down on vigilantism so you can do homework and go to classes. You don’t get to choose your own schedule anymore.”

“Nooooooo…”

Marinette yawned, rubbing her eyes. It had been a long day for her. She’d done patrols for a good fourteen hours, and then Nygma had decided to use that exact moment to pull a death trap out of nowhere.

So, when she’d finally finished everything for the day she was tired and soaking wet (because, for some reason, he thought it would be cool to see if she preferred death by electrocution or drowning). She’d called for her husband to come get her because it was winter and she wasn’t all that interested in walking through the snow in damp clothes.

Now she curled up in the car, getting the front seat and both her and Adrien’s jackets wet. She didn’t care as she pressed as close to the heater as she possibly could.

Adrien brought the car to a stop and looked over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you want to wait in the car while I get him?”

She nodded, closing her eyes.

She felt a set of keys drop in her lap and pressed the lock button, sinking into the chair.

And then, a few minutes later, she heard something outside.

She peeked an eye open blearily and looked around, expecting to see Adrien and Dick drumming their fingers on the windows to be let in. A frown made its way across her face when she realized that they weren’t there.

She sat back up slowly and her eyes landed on a flash of red on the side opposite her.

She unlocked her door and poked her head out, carefully making her way around the car to investigate…

A person was trying to steal their hubcap.

She groaned softly and rubbed her eyes, then got into a fighting position.

The person looked up at the sound and she winced mentally when she saw they had a crowbar.

They shot to their feet and raised the weapon.

“Marinette?” Called Adrien.

She looked up on instinct, a bad idea when you’re fighting someone.

She took a crowbar to the stomach and groaned, doubling over. They leaned down to grab the hubcap and then attempted to make a break for it.

It didn’t work, obviously. Dick caught the person by their hoodie when they tried to rush past him.

They twisted in his grip and hit Dick in the side with their hubcap and, when he stumbled a bit in surprise, swept his legs out from under him.

Adrien scowled as he tackled the person to the ground. Then he stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide. “This is --!”

He never got to say what the person was, though, because they had socked him. The person had been wearing a lot of rings, so that hurt even more than it usually would. It was a wonder that Adrien didn’t black out or, at the very least, fall back to cradle his jaw.

The person must have been counting on this because they cursed and reached out to shove Adrien off of themself, but he caught their arms.

With a bit of awkward shuffling he had managed to pin them to the ground, arms tucked beneath him and legs swinging wildly in an attempt to keep Dick and Marinette back.

He needn’t have worried, both of them were pretty incapacitated. Getting hit with a metal instrument tends to do that to people.

Dick recovered first because his blow had been softer and to a less vulnerable part, and he crawled over to Marinette… who was currently listing off every swear that she could think of from her spot on the ground.

They leaned against each other for support and then lifted their shirts a little bit to check for blood. Thankfully, the things the person had used were blunt, so they would only have to worry about bruising...

Still hurt, though.

“— fucking asshole of a person I will fucking stab their cul stupide —!”

“Mari, stop cursing, it’s a kid,” hissed Adrien, who was now covering the kid in question’s ears.

“Oh really? Let’s see you get hit by a goddamn whatever-the-fuck-that’s-called --!”

The kid, who could apparently still hear despite her husband’s best efforts, supplied the name of the object he’d used: “Crowbar.”

“Oh, you absolute --!”

Dick covered her mouth so she could curse without the kid hearing it too clearly.

Eventually, she ran out of curses. Her shoulders slumped.

Adrien and Dick nodded to each other and removed their hands.

Adrien carefully clambered off the kid, though he made sure to hold onto their hands to make sure they wouldn’t a) attack again or b) just run off.

They looked him over and Marinette cringed. Definitely a street kid, if the ragged clothes and bruised skin was any indication.

“It wasn’t personal,” the kid said, looking between the three of them anxiously. He must have realized he wasn’t getting away, because he had stopped subtly struggling against Adrien’s grip. “I just needed money.”

Marinette nodded. “Sure. What foster or adoption system are you in? We can up donations.”

(She was still annoyed about the whole ‘hitting her with a crowbar’ thing, obviously, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to help out a bunch of kids in need.)

The kid’s eyes widened and then he gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not really in one, it’s safer on the streets.”

Adrien frowned. “Sorry? Why? Don’t you want a roof and food?”

They rolled their eyes. “Sure, I’d love that, but it doesn’t exactly happen.”

The three frowned at each other.

Adrien thought for a minute, then shrugged. “How about you stay with us?”

“Huh?” Said both Marinette and the kid.

“We have room and money, and Dick is probably going to leave soon anyways because of college. Why not stay with us?”

Dick hesitated. “I’m probably not leaving, actually, but you can stay if you want.”

Marinette and the kid looked met each other’s eyes and deemed themselves the only sane ones present, because honestly what the fuck?

But then the kid’s eyes strayed to the pearl necklace Adrien had gotten her the year before, to the car, to the designer bag Dick was carrying…

“I wouldn’t mind. What about you, mom?” He said, giving Marinette a cheeky grin.

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t get puppy-dog-eyed from all sides.

Could Adrien, just once, ask her before randomly adopting kids?

Well, she guessed she should just be glad he didn’t try and adopt the entire foster system. She should probably say yes before he actually tried...

“Fine. Fine. We’ll adopt another one.” She pursed her lips together and then gave her husband a pointed look. “No more after this, though, got it? We’re too old for this stuff.”

“We’re not that old!” Complained Adrien.

She clicked her tongue.

“Fine. I’m not that old.”

Marinette scoffed and threw the keys at him. He caught them without even blinking.

Dick smiled and opened the car door for the kid, who seemed more than a little hesitant to get in the car with strangers. Apparently curiosity won over self-preservation, though, because the kid did end up getting in the car.

“Right, what’s your name?”

“Jason…”

“Cool! I’m Dick, and these are my adoptive parents, Marinette and Adrien.”

“... is no one going to talk about why your mom is soaking wet?”

“Why our mom is soaking wet, you mean.”

Jason frowned. “Sure… why?”

“She fell in a well.”

Adrien nodded as he started to drive. Marinette groaned and sunk into the front seat again.

Jason, poor kid, just looked confused.

“How the fuck…?”

Adrien was well aware that Jason didn’t trust them.

Fair enough. How many other people see a random kid stealing their hubcaps and then say ‘yeah, screw it, I’ll adopt them’? He figured they must be the only ones.

The kid seemed genuinely surprised when they pulled up to their house. Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted to know where Jason thought they were taking him.

Marinette had taken a quick shower, changed into some warm clothes, grabbed a cup of coffee, and then took Jason out shopping. Dick rearranged his room to accommodate another person.

And Adrien…

Adrien glared down the kwamis.

“Alrighty. We made the mistake last time of not telling you not to show yourselves to Dick, because we thought that was implied. We’re not doing that again. You are not allowed to in any way help Jason find out that you exist or that we are Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Robin. Got it?”

He made sure to see every kwami nod that they understood and then gave them some leftover macaroons to eat.

Good. So that disaster would be averted.

He heard a loud “Oh! My word!” from the next room and sighed.

New disaster.

He ushered the kwamis back under the floorboards and then rushed over to Dick’s room.

He walked in to find him frantically scraping a part of the wall that had been previously hidden by his bed.

Adrien crossed his arms. “Hey, buddy, whatcha got there?”

Dick turned around slowly, eyes wide and full of panic. “Uh…” He leaned back as casually as he could (it did not look like a comfortable position at all but that’s not the point here) and flashed a brilliant smile. “Adrien… Dad… Dadrien... have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough. What did you do?”

“I…” He looked away. “... should probably get ahead of this. Don’t get mad, please?”

“We’ll see.”

Dick slowly scooted away from the spot and Adrien sighed deeply.

Because on the wall, in crayon, was a bunch of doodles.

But, upon closer inspection, he realized they were doodles of Chat Noir and Ladybug and a tiny little person with black hair.

Do not think it’s cute do not think it’s cute do not think it’s cute --.

He took a few deep breaths before turning to Dick. “Go get some cleaning stuff. We have a few hours before Mari gets back.”

He mumbled a thanks and then rushed out to go find cleaning supplies.

Adrien snapped a photo while he was gone.

Marinette and Jason were struggling.

It was hard to get this kid to buy anything at all, she had tried to get him just another hoodie and he had taken one look at the price tag before flinging it as far away from him as he possibly could.

Man, how was she supposed to get him a mattress if this was how he was going to react to a bunch of ten dollar hoodies?

She would have thrown her hands up in frustration if that wouldn’t have disturbed her coffee. “Fine. We won’t buy anything. Do you have anything we can bring?”

Jason hesitated, then shook his head.

Okay, an obvious lie but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. He was probably still wary of them and their kindness and wanted to keep that backup open. She understood.

Well, she didn’t understand because she’d never been in that kind of situation, but she would respect it.

“Fine. You’ll have to live with hand-me-downs. Are you alright with that?”

Jason relaxed a little, nodding.

She gave a tired smile.

She’d have to do something about Dick’s sleeping arrangements, she’d probably create a hammock or just let him sleep in their bed (it hardly ever got any use, anyways) for the time being. Eventually, Jason might warm up to them enough to let her buy him stuff, and she’d wait for that…

Or he’d run away. But, hopefully not that.

Jason ducked his head and pulled his hoodie up to hide his face and Marinette glanced around. People were staring at them. Fair enough, she doubted that the scruffy hoodie and weathered jeans were making people trust the kid. Still, she stepped towards him and gently grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie to say he was hers.

He cringed almost imperceptibly at her touch. She frowned a little bit, she knew all too well what that meant, but didn’t say anything.

She opted to just glare at the people giving them odd looks, daring any of them to say anything.

They didn’t. Good.

She looked down at the kid and tipped her head to the side.

“I’m going to just shop for the family and you can eat that stuff, okay?”

Jason still looked like he wasn’t happy with it but he nodded.

And, so, she took him to the grocery part of the store. She did what she said she would, shopping for things they would need over the week, but she also watched Jason carefully to see if he liked anything.

The kid clearly knew what she was doing, because he spent most of his time watching her with a neutral expression, but occasionally she’d catch his gaze lingering on a specific product for just a second too long and she’d drop it into the cart.

He couldn’t say anything. He had no proof that they never ate… whatever the hell a Chef Boyardee was.

She found he was mostly looking at cheap, instant meals but that was okay. He’d learn.

She was a baker’s daughter, after all. Everyone in her house would learn what good food was eventually or die by her hand.

Adrien fell back on the couch and groaned. “I have to homeschool another kid!”

“Sucks,” said Dick, who was applying a princess bandaid to a shallow cut on his cheek that he’d gotten that night (the goon who had missed had been pissed that their aim was off... but then pissed themself when the two older vigilantes advancing on him made him realize he had bigger problems).

“It does! I get one kid into college and then I suddenly get another kid to teach!”

Marinette sat on his stomach and he wheezed a little. She didn’t pay this any mind, though. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you adopted another one.”

“He said he felt safer on the streets than in a home! I couldn’t just not adopt him!”

She gave a noncommittal hum.

“Dick! Agree with me!”

The person in question just turned on the TV and started flipping through channels.

Adrien sighed. He was now talking to what may as well have been an empty room. He looked around for the kwamis but they were very determinedly avoiding eye contact while chowing down on their foods of choice. Still, he at least had one person-god-whatever that had to listen to him:

“Plagg.”

The cat kwami gave a long sigh before looking at him. “Adrien, please don’t make me give you my opinion on this. You’re not going to like it.”

He pouted. “Honestly, though, it’s messed up. Is the system really that bad?”

“Yep,” said Marinette.

“Mhmm,” said Dick.

“And aren’t either of you, I don’t know, concerned about it?”

“You guys already donate a bunch of money, what else can you do?”

Adrien frowned, reaching out and pulling his wife down to lay next to him so they both could be comfortable.

Marinette lifted her arms slightly so he could wrap his arms around her and nuzzled into him a little bit (Dick made a gagging noise in the background). “This isn’t really our type of thing, Chaton.”

He nodded reluctantly…

And then gasped.

“But what if it is!”

“What?” She said warily.

“I mean, we’re in Gotham. Everything is connected to crime here! What if the foster and adoption systems are messed up because the mob or something has something to do with it!”

“Did you stretch before that reach?” Asked Dick as he changed the channel.

Adrien huffed. “M’lady, c’mon, I make sense, right?”

She thought for a minute, and then closed her eyes. “Alright, Chaton, if you really want you can go investigate it. If it’s our kind of thing, then we fix it. Okay?”

He beamed.

Marinette was… tired.

So, when she walked into the kitchen and found Jason flinging cabinets open at random and Dick swinging from a ceiling light, she just continued on to the coffee machine.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE TRASHCAN?!”

“Language,” Dick murmured absently. He hooked his legs over the light fixture and lowered himself down to open the cabinet beside Marinette, revealing... the trash can.

Jason stared at the cabinet in shock. “But… I opened that one… I know I did…”

“You have to be upside down to access it,” said Dick seriously.

She started up the machine. “Sweetie, don’t tell him that. He’ll break his neck.”

Jason slowly discarded his plate in the trash can, eyes locked on it as if it would disappear if he didn’t keep it in his sight at all times. “Why don’t you just have the trash can out…?”

Dick grinned. “Rich people thing. Can’t let people know you live here.”

“What?”

All he got was two shrugs. They didn’t really understand it either, they just didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

“I hate rich people,” Jason decided eventually.

“Same.”

“Including you.”

“Same.”

Adrien had chosen that exact minute to walk in and was now looking on in horror as Marinette brought an entire coffee pot to her lips and Jason dragged the trash can out into a reasonable place and Dick attempted a trapeze act on the ceiling light.

“I…”

“Morning,” said Marinette, sending a wave.

Adrien looked at the three of them for a few moments before sighing and sitting on the counter.

“Morning.”

Listen, if nothing else, Adrien had faith (... in humanity, religious faith is kinda weird when you have a god living in your jewelry).

This faith had never done him any good but it was there.

So, he had to hope that the problems with the system were things that he could fix as Chat Noir. Otherwise, he’d have to just accept the fact that the system didn’t care about its kids. He couldn’t do that.

The world was evil... but surely it couldn’t be that evil.

Unfortunately for his dreams of fixing everything, he found out that he needed to go to university for at least four years in order to get in. He couldn’t wait that long! People were suffering now!

Good thing he was rich.

Listen, Gotham is messed up. He’s been doing his best to fix it but, dang it, if everyone else can exploit it then he can, too!

(But only to help people. His moral compass was a roulette wheel and using his money to benefit solely himself was one of the lines he wouldn’t cross.)

Dick gave him a jealous look as he held up his new, definitely legitimately earned degree.

And then Jason had stepped into the room and frowned confusedly.

“You’re a social worker?”

“Am now!” He chirped.

“New?”

“Yep! I’m hoping to make it better, if I can.”

Jason gave a tiny laugh. “Oh, so you’re NEW new.”

Well, that wasn’t encouraging.

That night, he managed to catch Marinette before she could head off for patrols. “Do you think what I’m doing is useless?”

“A little bit but…” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I knew what I was getting into when I married you. I love you, Chaton.”

He frowned a little bit but returned the kiss and whispered his “I love you, too, M’lady.”

“Would you like me to drive you to work?”

He smiled and let her lead him along. That would be good. If he was driven to work then he could get someone to pick him up ‘late’ and give him time to snoop around.

Well, not today. The staff would know if it was his first day. He’d have to give it a month or so before he snooped. But it was good to start that kind of routine early.

When they pulled up to the orphanage, Marinette locked the doors before he could get out.

Crap.

He gave his wife a careful smile. “M’lady?”

“Listen to me: you are not allowed to adopt any of the kids.”

“But --.”

“Nope. No kids. We already have two when we said we were going to have zero. It has to stop.”

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “What if… what if they’re about to age out?”

Marinette paused. He could see the gears turning in her head as she bit her lip, considering it.

Then she shook her head. “If they’re about to age out you can give them money and support to start out. That’s. All.”

He pouted a little but accepted this answer. It would have to do.

He heard the doors unlock and stepped out. He looked up at the building and suppressed a cringe. It looked like the kind of orphanage that you see in movies that always have an evil director. This was a good thing for him as Chat Noir but a bad thing when you consider that there are actual kids living there.

Adrien stepped inside, all too aware of his nerves.

After all, he was technically unprepared. Did he know basic medicine? Was he good with kids? Did he know how to teach even kids with challenges? Yes to all of that. Still, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe the four years of college that were asked of him could have taught him something that he would need.

Relax, he told himself.

This did nothing, and really only served to make him more anxious, but hush.

He was given the day to tour the place, and he was originally disappointed. Surely, this couldn’t be it. All the beds were crammed in one room! Some of the beds didn’t even have fitted sheets!

But then his mind wandered to Jason. They never found him asleep in any of the beds, instead finding him passed out with a thin blanket in the corner or, at best, in an armchair. He hardly ever slept alone, either, usually opting to choose whatever room had two or more people in it to sleep.

He had to remind himself that these kids were likely on the streets for at least a few months of their lives, and likely would have adapted to that.

It didn’t make him feel any better, though.

Adrien didn't let any of this show on his face, instead smiling as he introduced himself to the kids he passed. A few gave wary looks, others gave awkward smiles, and some didn’t even seem to notice him.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. He was their new teacher, people usually aren’t all that eager to meet those.

He hoped he could help, though.

Marinette clicked her tongue when she found Jason reading in his current favorite hiding space: under Dick’s bed.

“Sweetie, you’re going to get squished under there.”

He didn’t answer, probably because there was a flashlight in his mouth.

She leaned down to see if she could figure out a way that he could stay down there without getting hurt and scrunched up her nose at a smell.

“Is there… are you keeping food down there?”

Jason finally looked at her, his eyes wide. He quickly moved in front of the stash so she couldn’t get to it and pulled the flashlight from his mouth to speak: “It’s mine.”

“It’s spoiled,” she said, shaking her head. “You can hoard food if that makes you happy but at least make sure it’s something that won’t go bad, please. How about cereal -- no, actually, the kid would kill me if I gave you that… what about nutrition bars?”

“Those aren’t actually that healthy, you know.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “You’re right, they’re not, but they don’t spoil quickly and they have at least some kind of nutritional value.”

He hesitated, then reluctantly pushed the stash of food in her direction. She sifted through it to pull out any food that was still good, and then handed that over.

He looked at the tinier pile and then gave her a tiny smile.

“Thank you.”

She nodded. “I’ll go out and get some nutrition bars.”

His eyes widened. “You don’t have --.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was already going to start buying them to try and wean your brother off of cereal. This is just an added bonus,” she lied so he wouldn’t feel guilty about using her money.

He looked reluctant but still nodded.

She beamed and stood again, the spoiled food in her arms.

She yelled to Dick that Jason was under his bed again so he needed to be careful, then put a sticky note on his bed and door so he’d remember, then tossed the food.

And then she started towards the store.

Teaching all day and then coming home to teach another kid was… something.

Good thing Adrien had the patience of a saint from years of schooling Dick.

Jason groaned and fell back on the couch, covering his face with the textbook. “This is soooooo boring. I already know this stuff!”

“The test you took says differently,” said Adrien as he closed his copy.

All he got was another groan.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever. He was exhausted. He’d take the night off. “Alright, fine, you’re bored. What do you want to do?”

Jason lifted the book from his face so he could send his dad a confused look.

“You have to enjoy something. Y’know, a hobby or something?”

Jason’s face reddened a little and he nodded, toying with some of the rings on his fingers. “I have one... but you can’t laugh if I tell you.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He mumbled something that she couldn’t make out, and Adrien frowned. “Sorry?”

He took a deep breath and then whispered his answer: “Iliketoread.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up, and then he felt a wide smile stretch across his face. A kid? That reads?

He pushed himself up to his feet.

“I have a library card that’s been gathering dust for the past few years. C’mon.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “It’s been gathering dust? Why?”

“Uh… let’s just say I’ve been kind of busy with other things.”

“That sucks.”

He considered this, his head tipping to the side, then he nodded. “It does. I should read more.”

“You should.”

Adrien laughed a little. “Have any suggestions?”

Jason’s eyes lit up.

Marinette hummed absently as she stepped into the kitchen and then frowned as her eyes flicked between Dick and Jason, who were looking very intensely at a plate.

She stepped closer and rolled her eyes. It seemed they were dividing up the last cookie from her baking session last night.

Was she concerned that they had managed to eat all the cookies in the few hours since she had finished them? A little. But not that concerned. At least she knew they were getting calories.

But now she was just amused. Because they were using a ruler and a pencil and paper to figure out what exactly half was.

Dick seemed to finish his math first, because he picked up a knife and positioned it over the cookie.

“Careful!” Said Jason.

Marinette snickered. “Boys, I may have a solution for you.”

They looked up with confused expressions.

“I can… you know I can just make more, right?”

Jason looked like he was going to protest... but then Dick swiped the cookie and stuffed it into his mouth. He watched on in horror for a few moments before his face hardened.

“You live up to your name, Dickwad.”

Dick gasped. “Rude!”

“Oh, so I’m rude? You want to know what’s actually rude? It’s --.”

Marinette grinned as she sipped at her coffee. She’d intervene if things went too far but, for the time being, she was perfectly fine just watching.

Jason’s eyes found her and he brought a cheeky grin to his face. “Hey, mom, if you’re going to make cookies then Dickwad can’t have any, right?”

“What? No! Mari -- Mom -- Mominette!”

“Mom!”

She tried not to laugh at the chorus of ‘Mom’s as she started pulling down ingredients.

After a month and a half of gaining the trust of the orphanage staff and kids, he managed to sneak into the director’s room and look through the financial records.

He snapped pictures of every page and then slipped out through the window.

When he got home he pulled the pictures up on a bigger monitor and started looking over them with Dick and Marinette at his side.

The longer he looked the more he frowned.

“It’s not an evil plot. I don’t know what to do when it’s not an evil plot,” he said eventually.

Marinette rested her head on his shoulder. “Of course it’s not. Even if criminals benefit from the system being broken, they don’t need to do anything to keep it that way. Even good cities have terrible adoption and foster systems.”

“There has to be something we can do!”

She and Dick exchanged exhausted looks.

“There has to be something we can do.” He repeated, frowning. “We’re rich!”

“We don’t have enough to beat out a mob boss in political donations, Chaton, much less a bunch of them.”

He sighed.

Marinette slipped her hand into his and was silent for a while, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. She squeezed a little tighter and he looked over with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, speaking of mob bosses, the kid and I have been closing in on one’s location. You want in? You always like beating them up...”

“I guess it has been a while since we’ve done that…”

They had been about two seconds away from just pushing the emotions down like they usually did, but then Dick had gasped and pushed himself to his feet.

“We can’t fix homes, but we can always make things easier when they leave.”

“We already agreed to give them money when they age out, sweetie.”

“Nonononono not like that!” Dick was pacing, now. “You guys know a lot of people, right?”

“I do…” said Adrien carefully.

“Then use that! Help them get into the fields they want to get into.”

“That’s…” Adrien pulled out his phone to translate the word to English. “... nepotism.”

Marinette shrugged absently. “We kill people, Chaton, this is hardly the place to draw the line. I can probably get them into the designing world if I wanted.”

“I could do circuses or law.”

Adrien sighed and closed his eyes. He figured he should just be glad that they were trying to help.

“... I can get modelling and any other field that I know someone in… I’d need to make some calls...”

The happiness that came along with finding a solution, weak as it was, lasted about a month.

Marinette smiled and wiped some blood from her husband’s cheek so she could give him a kiss.

“Feel better?”

“A little,” he admitted.

She smiled and tipped her head back to look at Dick, who was tying up the last of the henchmen. “You’ve had faster times, sweetie.”

“I would’ve gone faster if you were helping instead of ‘french kissing’ over here.”

“We weren’t --!” She clicked her tongue when both of the guys started laughing. “You’re hilarious. C’mon, we need to get out before the cops get here.”

They slipped out into the streets as sirens blared in the distance and detransformed.

Marinette hummed lightly as they made their way through back alleys. After all, their detransformations only got rid of the suits, not the blood… it would look a little weird if three people covered in blood were just walking through the streets.

Adrien opened the door for them, and she stepped inside…

Only to go pale.

Because Jason was up, watching a show. He had probably woken up and decided to wait until people were back to sleep. The three vigilantes went completely still, save for the quiet squeak of surprise that left Dick’s lips.

Jason looked over and his eyes widened.

“Uh… we can explain?” Said Marinette.

He screamed and scrambled off the couch as quickly as possible and made a mad dash for the kitchen.

The three vigilantes looked at each other, then followed after him.

Her eyes searched the kitchen and found him hidden under a table...

Oh. He had a knife. Fun.

Adrien pushed Dick behind them.

She held up her hands placatingly. “Sweetie…”

“NO! WHAT THE FUCK?! NO! I KNEW YOU GUYS WERE TOO NICE TO BE TRUE BUT WHAT?! THE FUCK?! MURDERERS?! COME ON!”

Adrien sighed. “I… we aren’t… well… we kind of are… but...”

“Not helping,” Dick muttered.

Marinette bit her lip as she considered what to do to make Jason relax, then groaned. “Tikki. Spots on.”

Somehow, Jason’s eyes went wider when she transformed.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU GUYS ARE VIGILANTES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

Adrien sighed.

The other two transformed as well.

Jason had gone into shock…

Progress?

They detransformed now that they had shown him the truth.

“Now that you know that we won’t hurt you, can you… put the knife down? Please? That’s the good knife and --?” She felt the glares of the other two vigilantes on the back of her head and winced. “Okay, maybe not the most important reason why... knives are sharp. We don’t like sharp things. They hurt.”

The kid did, in fact, put down the knife. This was probably just because he was stunned and on autopilot but at least he was no longer armed.

Marinette carefully walked over and picked it up off the ground. A pout made its way onto her face as she looked at the blade. It had scratches on it…

She saw Adrien’s disapproving look and huffed, tossing it into the sink a few feet away and then turning to the kid next to her.

“This wasn’t how we wanted you to find out…”

The boys made their way over as well and they all sat in a wide circle around the kid. They didn’t want him to feel alone but they also didn’t want to crowd him.

“We didn’t really want you to know at all, we just wanted to be a stable family for you,” explained Adrien.

Jason was emerging from his shock slowly, his breathing was picking up.

Marinette peeled her jacket off and draped it over his shoulders gently.

“We promise we won't force you to be a vigilante. In fact, we’d probably feel better if you weren’t one. You’re a kid,” said Adrien.

“But,” added Dick. His parents glared at him but he continued anyways: “If you want, then we won’t stop you. You’re old enough by our family standards, so we can’t really stop you if you want to. Just tell us and we’ll get you a miraculous that suits you and some training.”

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

Dick gave her a bit of side-eye. “What? It’s not like we would be able to stop him if he wanted to be a vigilante. I’d prefer that he at least be safe… -ish.”

Jason curled up in the jacket and closed his eyes. “Can I have some time to think about it? About… everything?”

“Of course, sweetie.” Marinette scooted away a little so he could get past her and he rushed out.

The three watched him go in silence. They heard the front door slam behind him.

She closed her eyes. “Sweetie, go after him? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Dick gave a quiet “Okay” and transformed. With a shrill note, he was gone.

Adrien and Marinette were left alone.

She felt him crawl over to her and pull her into him.

“He’ll be okay,” said Adrien softly.

She bit her lip and then buried her face in his shoulder.

Over the next few weeks they heard people in the house.

He made sure to never acknowledge it. It could be Dick coming back for food or to grab some homework to do while watching over his brother, or it could be Jason.

He always hoped it would be Jason… but now that it actually was he felt a surge of anxiety.

Firstly, Marinette wasn’t home. Nygma had just announced his most recent death trap to the city and she’d had to rush out to deal with it.

Secondly, Dick had a class at the moment.

Thirdly, Adrien was just really tired. He’d spent the entire day teaching, of course he was tired. He wouldn’t be at the top of his game.

This was probably an intentional move on Jason’s part. It was a good idea to take precautions, Adrien would have been proud if he wasn’t so nervous.

He looked up from his spot on the couch and gave a careful smile. “Hey, Jay.”

Jason hesitated and then disappeared to the kitchen. He came back with a knife.

Ah. Great.

Adrien knew he could beat a child with a knife, that didn’t mean he wanted to.

Jason sat on the couch opposite Adrien and pointed his knife at him. “I want to ask some questions.”

“Of course. Anything.”

He nodded and lowered his knife ever so slightly. “Okay… why did you adopt me?”

Adrien frowned a little bit. “You were a kid that was so desperate for money that you were stealing a bunch of rich people’s hubcaps. I couldn’t not adopt you.”

“There’s a lot of people like that. Why me? I attacked you. There had to be better, safer options.”

“I…” His frown deepened. This was true. Why had he felt so drawn to Jason in particular? “I guess it could have been Marinette’s luck? One of her side-effects is that she has really good luck. I wouldn’t be surprised if we adopted the exact kid that was perfect for our family.”

Jason nodded a little bit, though he looked skeptical.

Fair enough. Adrien was also a little skeptical of his answer. He had a theory about what was going on but it wasn’t like he’d ever be able to prove it.

“Next question: what did Dick mean when he said that I was old enough to be a vigilante ‘by your standards’?”

Adrien winced a little bit. “You said you’re about thirteen, right? Well, Dick and I started at twelve and Mari started at thirteen.”

Jason gave him an incredulous look, then apparently got over it. “Oh. Okay. And… why did you start doing this?”

“Uh… odd question…” He pursed his lips. “It’s hard to explain. I… had an image to keep up and Chat Noir was -- still is, actually -- my outlet for me to be myself in public. Mari, I think, was more or less thrown into the life and then, when she finally had an out, couldn’t imagine herself without it. Dick wanted to get revenge on the person who got his parents killed and then decided to keep going.”

He frowned. “You make it sound addictive.”

“Oh, yeah, it definitely is.” Adrien sighed. “There’s a lot of reasons why we didn’t tell you but that was one of them. When you start you don’t stop. We made that mistake with Dick, we’re hoping that you’ll not do it.”

Jason set the knife down, finally. “But you wouldn’t stop me if I still wanted to?”

He winced. “No. If you wanted to then we’d give you a miraculous -- powers -- and you’d get to go out and fight crime.”

“You trust me?” He said with a laugh.

“Should I not?”

He rolled his eyes. “I grew up on the streets. Most people don’t.”

“Jay, no offense but I’m not scared of you. You could have stolen from us or attempted to hurt us at any point over the last few months and you didn’t.”

“You’re vigilantes! It’s not like I could have done any of that!”

He shrugged and stretched out lazily. “You’re right, you wouldn't have succeeded. But you didn’t know that. You thought we were just some really trusting rich people.”

Jason considered this with a frown, and then he looked at Adrien. “I want to be a vigilante.”

He groaned a little bit but nodded. “Fine. Take off your -- Mari’s -- whatever -- THE jacket and the hoodie for a minute so I can see who should train you?”

The kid looked a little uncomfortable but he did comply.

Adrien frowned at all the tiny scars but didn’t say anything as he carefully examined his build. Definitely closer to him than Marinette or Dick.

He would take up the physical aspect of training, then.

“Right, how much do you know about self-defense?”

The four of them sat on the floor, sifting through the different miraculi for ones that could protect Jason in battle.

Marinette hummed to herself as she sifted through her pile.

After a minute, Dick held up the turtle miraculous. “This one can keep him safe -- wait a minute, why didn’t I get this one?”

“Didn’t match your fighting style or personality,” said Adrien absently, his head tipping from side to side as he considered the miraculous.

“If we want to give him that one then he’s going to need a different weapon. What would you like, sweetie?”

Jason thought for a minute, staring at Wayzz.

Then his eyes lit up. “Can I have a gun?”

“I…” Began Marinette, then she shrugged. “Actually, we could probably use another long-distance fighter on the team.”

“And it keeps him a pretty safe distance away from the fighting…” Agreed Adrien.

Dick hesitated. “But guns are pretty lethal. He isn’t an adult.”

“Damn, that really is going to come back to bite me, huh?”

Jason frowned. “What? What’s going on?”

“Basically, we have a rule that says kids aren’t allowed to kill,” said Adrien, sending his wife a tired glare.

She gave him a tense smile in return. “Killing people messes you up, so we’re trying to keep you guys away from it.”

Jason hesitated a little bit. “I’ve kinda… already…”

The three others’ eyes widened and they gave each other nervous glances. Jason couldn’t seem to finish, and they didn’t ask him to. They could guess what he was trying to get at.

And they didn’t know how to respond. Their problem had been with introducing kids to murder, because they knew that it was something you never really came back from… but he’d already done it...

They figured that, from the way he said it, he had probably had no choice in the matter and was regretting doing it…

“I guess… we let him kill if he wants?” Said Adrien slowly.

Dick scratched his head. “I guess?”

The three of them shrugged at each other. It was probably -- no, definitely -- not the right decision but they really didn’t know what to do.

“I think he’d look cute with pistols,” said Marinette after a few minutes of silence.

Adrien, who was the only other person who had seen the turtle miraculous’s suit, nodded his agreement.

Jason transformed for the first time.

Dick nodded as well. “Pistols would be cute.”

Adrien smiled as he watched Jason mess around with his new powers.

There wasn’t much to them. They created a force field around an item or person of your choosing that held for as long as you stayed awake…

Still, he was proud of him. Baby’s first powers and all.

The three older vigilantes were casually throwing things and hitting the forcefield in an attempt to break it, and Jason was holding up surprisingly well.

“So, what’re you going to call yourself?” Adrien asked as he drummed his staff on it.

Jason thought for a minute and then smiled. “How about… Green Helmet?”

Marinette hit the force field too hard and the cane came back to hit her in the head, which could not be helping her growing headache.

She pursed her lips tightly as she lowered herself down into a chair. “You… you have a hood.”

“I disagree.”

“You can’t -- I’m literally a designer! My word is law! That’s a hood!”

“Nope.”

“Chaton! Tell him that’s a hood!”

Adrien sighed. “It’s a hood,” he agreed.

Everyone looked at Dick, who was beginning to look like he’d rather be anywhere else. He eyed the door out of the corner of his eyes as if wondering whether he could get away before they caught him.

He must have come to the conclusion that he couldn’t get there in time, because he gave his answer:

“It… could be a helmet if he wants it to be…”

Adrien rolled his eyes as the family erupted into an argument over what constitutes a hood versus what constitutes a helmet.

Marinette hummed lightly as she made brownies (she had faith, okay? No one was helping this time so it should work). Jason was sitting in a chair nearby, head resting on the back of it as he watched her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” She asked. It was normal for Jason to watch her cook, he liked to keep his eye on food when he could, but he seemed almost… anxious. She could hear the gentle clinking of his rings as he messed with them.

“I… I want to buy something,” he said.

She dropped her bag of sugar into the bowl and hissed a string of curses as she looked at the now definitely ruined batter. Sure, she could technically go through and try to fix the ratios by adding more of everything else, but that would make enough brownies to feed a whole army --.

Wait a minute, what had he said?

Her eyes flicked to Jason. “Sorry? You want to buy something?”

He nodded with a tiny smile. “It’s a little expensive, I’m sorry, but… could we?”

Marinette was willing to buy a car if this kid asked, because he was ASKING HER TO BUY SOMETHING OH MY GOD, but she played it cool with a tiny nod.

“Sure, sweetie, let me just see how much it costs.”

He pulled up a picture on his phone and showed it to her.

It was a hardcover copy of an illustrated version of a book he liked. For forty dollars.

Okay, so he wasn’t asking for much, but it was still something! An improvement!

She smiled. “Sure, sweetie, I’ll get it next time I head out, okay?”

Jason beamed.

Adrien rolled his eyes when Dick flung himself across the couch dramatically.

“This isn’t faaaaiiiiir,” he whined.

He looked at his wife pleadingly and she clicked her tongue before lifting Dick’s head so she could sit down. She ran her fingers through her kid’s hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“He already knew a bit of self-defense when we met him so that was fine and we even gave extra time on training in his powers and with guns. We literally have no excuses for bringing him on at this point.”

“But I had to train for three years! He only had to do one!”

Jason grinned. “Maybe I’m just better.”

“Jay,” said Adrien exhaustedly.

“Or the favorite,” he added, his grin somehow growing.

“Jay!”

It was a good thing that Marinette had had a hold on Dick, because if she hadn’t he probably would have launched himself at his brother.

“You weren’t of age, he is,” she reminded him. “If you’d been old enough a year in then we would have let you do crime fighting, too.”

This was a lie, Dick had not been at all prepared after a year of training, but it made the kid smile so at least that was good.

Adrien stretched out from his spot in the window. “Right, we let Dick choose his first mission, what do you want to do first?”

Jason broke into a wide grin.

“There were some people who gave all the homeless kids trouble…”

They’d tracked the gang’s activities to a warehouse and had filed inside.

Adrien had helped Marinette carry their kids to the trusses above them (neither of their weapons had an easy way up, though they made mental notes to get them some kind of… grappling hook, maybe? It was a work in progress idea).

Dick shrouded them in shadows and muted the squeaking of their boots on the metal as they slowly made their way to the gang.

Adrien stretched his shoulders a little bit and then dangled his legs over to prepare himself for the jump down. Marinette and Dick copied his stance.

They looked at Jason, who gulped a little before copying the stance.

They hopped down as a family…

Because nothing says family bonding like murdering a bunch of gang members.

“Hey?”

Adrien looked up and frowned, alarm bells ringing in his ears. Jason was shuffling from foot to foot anxiously from his spot in the doorway. An anxious kid? This couldn’t be good...

“Yes, Jay?”

Jason messed with his rings.

“Since I’m going to be… here for a while, can we take the car to pick up my stuff?”

Adrien would have pinched himself to check if this was a dream if any of his dreams were ever this nice.

He dropped the book he was reading onto the bed and pushed himself up. “I -- wow! Okay! Of course!”

Jason gave an awkward smile.

Adrien tried not to smile too much as he followed the kid’s directions.

Mainly because this might dredge up bad memories for Jason, and he didn’t want to be too caught up in his euphoria of the kid genuinely accepting being part of the family to notice that he was shutting down.

But, to his surprise, Jason actually seemed just as excited.

They pulled up to a mostly abandoned looking greenhouse and Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly.

“What? I could grow myself food! It was good,” Jason defended himself.

He gave a smile, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, I was just trying to imagine you eating vegetables.”

Jason huffed a little bit and then held up a hand for Adrien to wait. He crouched down and then, after a bit of pushing, popped a pane of glass out of place. He set it down and then crawled through.

There was a bit of rustling inside and then the door swung open.

“Behold! My humble abode!”

Adrien raised his eyebrows as he stepped inside. ‘Humble’ was definitely the word for it…

His eyes scanned around and he had to hold back a frown at how little Jason had. There were a few plants. A bunch of vines and leaves had been piled together to make a makeshift ‘bed’ with a few blankets thrown overtop. A few random clothes were strewn about, all in varying states of shabbiness.

(There was also a bucket in the corner. Adrien was deciding to believe that it was for washing clothes.)

The only thing that Jason had really ‘had’ was the entire nook dedicated to books.

Adrien and Jason grabbed everything of importance to him and put it in the back of the car.

And then they started on their way home.

~~~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladythugs @moonlightstar64

#maribat #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin

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janeykath318 · 4 years ago

Text

Prompt Fic: Skinny! Steve (Romanogers)

For @marshunter06

5 times Natasha thought Steve was adorable and one time he was downright irresistible

1.The first time Natasha Romanoff met Steve Rogers was when she was teaching firearm techniques to the group of newbie shield agents, which included the scrawny blonde man. She didn’t expect much from him, but he was very polite and attentive, and quickly picked up in her instructions. A lot of his fellow IT people were quite literally very gunshy and required much patient handling, but surprisingly Steve, who was the nerdiest looking of them all, turned out to be by far the best learner. (His only fault was he said “ma’am” too much.)

The glee on his face when he succeeded in hitting the target was the cutest thing she’d seen all day. Maybe she wouldn’t kill Clint for shoving the training on her.

2. The second time she met Steve was when she and Clint and James were going out to celebrate a very successful mission and James asked if he could bring his good friend and fellow Shield employee along.

“Kid never gets out much. He needs some socializing and a break from his computer screen.”

Clint of course agreed right away, the big softie, and it didn’t take Natasha long to be convinced. She trusted James.

Her eyebrows rose into her hairline when James’s friend turned out to be Steve from Cyber. He looked very out of his element and she wondered if the guy had ever been in a bar before.

“Steve, this is Agent Natasha Romanoff, one of the best in the business,” James introduced. “Natasha, this punk here is Steve Rogers, my best friend and skilled computer geek.”

“We meet again, Steve,” Natasha said, smiling at the flushed looking Steve. She noticed he had very pretty, soulful blue eyes and striking cheekbones in his thin face.

“It’s a pleasure, ma’am,” Steve blurted out awkwardly as he shook her hand. He looked so cute when his face went all red.

3. “Rogers! What happened to you?” Natasha asked in astonishment, seeing a bloody faced Steve being hauled down to medical by an exasperated looking Barnes.

“Yes, tell her, Steve,” Barnes said, earning himself an annoyed look.

“One of the guys from Alpha made a gross sexist comment and I called him out on it,” Steve mumbled through a bloody nose, eyes fixed on the floor.

“And….” Barnes prompted.

“And he wouldn’t apologize, so I punched him,” Steve muttered, giving his friend another glare.

“Oh, Steve, you precious idiot,” she sighed, shaking her head. “He could have snapped you in half. Report him to HR instead. We’d much prefer having you in one piece.”

“I’ve tried that before,” Steve sighed. “They’re always likely to take the big badass agent’s word over hers or mine.”

Now Bucky was frowning as well.

“Sounds like HR needs investigating too,” he said.

“They do,” Natasha confirmed. “I’ll mention it to Hill today. Those guys from Alpha need attitude adjustments.”

Later, when she was watching tape of the incident with Hill, she saw the look of pure rage on Steve’s face as he clocked the offending agent who was twice his size and her heart melted a little inside. He may be reckless, but his heart was in the right place.

4. Natasha returned from a mission in Russia in a very dark place emotionally. All of Clint’s attempts to comfort fell flat and and as soon as the grueling debriefing was over, she high-tailed it to the comfort of her apartment. She’d told Fury she was taking the next few days off and for once he understood.

She’d worked so hard to move beyond her past, but sometimes it smacked her right in the face, bringing back the old traumas she’d hoped she’d left behind years ago. The faces of her targets and trainers swam unendingly through her mind, and not even alcohol was working.

On day two post mission, she collected her mail, noticing it was pretty much all junk, except for a brown manilla envelope that had Rogers in the return address.

Curious, she opened it up and pulled out a thick piece of paper and a smaller one with writing on it.

“Agent Romanoff,

I heard you had a rough mission and thought this might make you smile.

Steve”

The other piece of paper had several very good sketches on it, one of which portrayed Natasha knocking Steve on his ass, above which he’d written, “You and me if we ever sparred.” That DID make her smile.

Another showed a heavily muscled, taller version of Steve beating up Rollins from Alpha and he’d captioned this one: “If Only.”

The Third was a drawing of Natasha, Clint, and James in full gear, ready for a mission.

“Badass Trio” was what Steve had titled it.

The final sketch was Natasha by herself, giving her trademark half smile. Her breath caught at the detail and skill of the art. She’d seen him doodling at his desk before, but had had no idea how good of an artist he really was.

She looked at the sketches for a long time, then picked up her phone to call James and ask for Steve’s number. It was high time she got to know him better.

5. Steve’s first time being in the field for a mission was a momentous occasion. He was going to be decoding and interpreting data that Natasha, Clint, and James were “borrowing” from a probable Hydra cell. Holed up in the back of an inconspicuous van across the street, Steve could hear and communicate with the main team as he worked on his computer.

Tense as the mission was, it went ten times faster than it would have done without Steve there. Natasha overheard him through the comms muttering things like, “Got Ya, Sons of bitches!” and “You’ll rue the day you joined a Nazi group, pal.”

Clint’s eyes raised when he heard it and he whispered to James “Is he always like this?”

James nodded, a fond grin on his face.

“Yep. Don’t let his innocent looks fool ya. Steve is one hundred percent ready to throw down with evildoers at all times. He’s fueled by coffee and rage.”

“Accurate,” Natasha agreed, smiling as Steve swore again over the comms. She’d developed quite a fondness for the feisty fellow and was contemplating asking him out on a date.

+1 “You want to go out with m-me?”

Steve’s blue eyes were round as saucers as he processed the question Natasha had just asked him.

“Yes, Steve, I do,” she told him, lounging against his desk.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You really LIKE me like me?”

“Yes,” she confirmed again. “And I strongly suspect the feeling is mutual.”

Steve blushed bright red and smiled rather shyly.

“I was content to admire from afar,” he admitted. “I’m in this league,” he held his palm very low, “and you’re in this league,” he raised his hand above his head. “So I was pretty happy that you would even be friends with me.”

“The world might see it that way, but, Steve, you are a good man with a big heart who is honest and sincere and hates bullies and Nazis and is an incredibly talented agent. Oh, did I mention your pretty eyes and handsome face?”

Steve’s blush deepened and he was speechless for several moments, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What do you say, Rogers? Friday night work for you?”

The shyness melted away and A slow grin spread across his face, the type of grin Natasha had never seen on him before, but it DID things to her. Normal Steve’s smile was adorable. Flirty Steve’s smile? Irresistible.

“Abso-freaking-lutely.” He declared.

#Romanogers #prompt fic #skinny! Steve Rogers #modern Brooklyn boys #natasha romanoff

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roman-writing · 4 years ago

Text

no great revelation (4/8)

Fandom(s): The Haunting of Bly Manor / Star Wars

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,057

Summary: Jamie just wants to enjoy a drink after a hard day’s work on the Telosian Restoration Project. The last thing she needs is to get herself caught up in a mysterious woman with a lightsabre at the local bar.

Aurthor’s notes: Please don’t expect anything from this story. I’m just doodling in between writing ch11 and ch12 of ‘bring home a haunting.’

read it below or read it here on AO3

IV:

—

“I owe you a favour?” Rebecca said, and her voice sounded amused. “Is that how we’re remembering it?”

“Yup. After that fiasco you put me through in that club on Nar Shaddaa.”

The sound of an incredulous huff of laughter came through the cracked speakers of the transceiver in a staticky burst. “What is it this time?”

“Nothing special,” said Jamie. “In fact, it’s even a little boring.”

“You? Boring?”

“I like boring.”

“Pull the other one.”

“More boring than last time, then.”

“Last time you had me move three hundred freed Twi’lek slaves from Hutt space and back to their home planets.”

“And they’ve been singing your praises ever since. I know that for a fact, because one family sent me a holo-card which showed that party you went to where they made you godmother of their newborn child.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Rebecca said, sounding suddenly excited. “Do you want to see the latest pictures of the kid? He’s four and adorable.”

“That had better be a rhetorical question,” Jamie drawled.

“So, that’s a no?”

“Shut up and send me the pictures to my personal transceiver when I see you.”

Rebecca’s laugh was infectious. Always had been. A smile pulled at the corner of Jamie’s mouth in spite of herself. The Jawas had crowded off to the other end of the tiny room, talking amongst themselves while Jamie used their transceiver. On the other hand Dani drifted closer, hovering just out of range of the transceiver’s camera, which — along with the microphone and speakers — seemed to be the only thing about it that actually functioned properly.

“It’s been too long,” Rebecca was saying. “I’ve missed talking to you.”

“So, you’ll do me the favour?”

“You know I hate moving people,” Rebecca sighed. “Pressurising the cargo hold is so expensive.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“Always is with you.”

"It's not like that."

"Sure it isn't." Rebecca said, then groaned. "Why can't you ever ask me to run something normal? Like food? Or weapons?"

"I asked you to run those emergency rations to Taris that one time."

"The planet was being blockaded by the Empire!"

"And you snuck through like a ghost," Jamie said. "I've never seen anything like it in all my years."

"Flatterer."

"Fuckin' right I am. Is it working?"

A sigh down the other line. "All right. How many people is it this time?"

Jamie opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak Dani came into frame and sat beside Jamie with a wave towards the camera.

"Hi," she said with as much false cheer as she could muster. "Just me. Dani Clayton. Nice to meet you."

Silence on the other end. Jamie really wished this piece of crap transceiver had a working screen of its own so she could gauge Rebecca's reaction. As it was: the silence didn't seem like a good start.

“I see,” Rebecca said slowly. “Jamie, you always did have a soft spot for a pretty face.”

Heat flushed all the way up to Jamie’s hairline. “That’s not -!” she said, then turned to Dani and insisted, “It’s not.”

Dani did not answer. Her own cheeks were pink and she was studiously avoiding Jamie’s gaze, watching the broken monitor instead where Rebecca’s face should have been displayed.

Rebecca — damn her — was the one who spoke next. "And where are you from, Dani?"

"Alderaan," Dani said at the same time Jamie hissed, "Don't answer that."

Dani shot Jamie a puzzled look and lowered her voice, “I thought you two were friends.”

“We are, but -”

“No whispering,” said Rebecca through the crackling speakers in a sing-song voice. “If you’re talking about me, at least let me hear the juicy gossip.”

Rather than continue down that vein, Jamie corrected course. “We need to get to Tython. We’re on a transport through the Hydian Way to Coruscant, but we’ve got some undesirables on our tail. Think you can help?”

Rebecca gave a thoughtful hum. “You know I’m not a Core World girl. Not my speciality.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate.”

“Next time,” Rebecca said in a dry tone, “just call me for drinks and a laugh.”

“First round’s on me,” Jamie promised with a grin.

The sound of tapping down the line and a series of beeps as Rebecca did something with her ship’s computer. “I’m picking up your signal from hyperspace just past Bandomeer. I won’t be able to meet up with your transport until you come out of hyperspace for a stop over at Corsin tomorrow afternoon. Think you can survive that long?”

Leaning back, Jamie exhaled a long relieved breath, her shoulders slumping. “It’ll have to do. Thanks, Becs. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.”

And just like that, the call ended. No fanfare. No goodbyes. That’s how it always was with her — touch and go. Probably why the two of them got along so well, Jamie thought. Not many people could go without exchanging a single word for four years and then pick up where they’d left off as if no time had passed at all.

Jamie pushed the transceiver away. Dani was watching her with a curious tilt of her head so that a lock of her hair was curled along the column of her neck in a way that made Jamie want to reach out and card her fingers through her hair.

“She seems nice,” Dani said.

“It’s complicated.”

Understanding lit up in Dani’s mismatched eyes. “Ah.”

“Not like that,” Jamie said quickly. “We never - I just meant that she’s complicated. For a smuggler like Rebecca, trust is its own currency. And now I owe her a very big favour.”

Dani nodded but didn’t comment further. She had turned her attention back to the huddle of Jawas, listening to them quibble and murmur together. “As much as I like them,” she said, “I don’t think we can hide here for a full day without imposing.”

That and Jamie could not imagine trying to sleep in a pile with a bunch of Jawas. She made a face at the very thought. It was cramped with two people in one of these rooms. Let alone eleven. Even if the other nine were less than a meter in height and smelled of damp womprat.

“Please tell me the alternative doesn’t involve the garbage chute,” Dani said.

The alternative only partially involved the garbage chute. And even then, they only had to use it once to ferry their way up to the mid decks when their transport dropped out of hyperspace and docked at Corsin. Jamie kept checking over her shoulder for sign of the Jedi and the Troopers as she and Dani snuck off the transport with a crowd of others. She did not relax even as they stepped free of the transport and into the hangar bays of Corsin.

The arched transparisteel ceiling was a void of star-speckled ink viewing out into space, and far below the planet was a marble of blue oceans and green islands, white tufts of cloud drifting across its surface.

“It looks beautiful,” said Dani, pausing to wistfully admire the planet below.

“It looks unaffordable,” Jamie replied, not sparing it a glance and instead standing up on her toes, craning her neck to get a better look around the hangar.

“Reminds me of Alderaan.”

It was said almost softly enough that Jamie couldn’t hear it. Jamie stopped her search and turned back to Dani, who was still staring longingly out the windows. Hesitating for a second, Jamie curled her fingers around Dani’s hand. Startled, Dani blinked at her.

Jamie offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “C’mon,” she said, and gave Dani’s hand a tug.

Dani did not pull her hand away as Jamie pulled her along further into the hangar in search of their ticket out of this mess. She linked their fingers together and held on tight, her hand cold; Dani was always cold. Jamie needed to think about buying her a set of thermals.

Pushing through the crowd, they made their way from various bay to various bay. Other passengers who knew their destinations went straight to the cruiser that would ferry them down to the planet below. Most of them wore enough Ottegan silk to last Jamie a year if she sold it on the black market, no questions asked. This was not a planet for people like them, and a few security droids around the place had started to take notice of that fact. Jamie was constructing an elaborate lie in her head about how they were janitorial staff, when she finally saw her.

Rebecca was standing before a side bay with her hand resting easily on the holster of her blaster pistol. She looked just as Jamie remembered. All in smart and durable beige and black, the cut of her clothes fashionable in a rakish sort of way but unafraid of hard labour. Her dark hair was longer and was bound in a long plait over one shoulder. And her dark skin was slightly darker, too — she must have been visiting a sunny planet lately. Letting go of Dani’s hand and striding forward with a broad smile, Jamie caught her in a fierce warm hug.

“God, but it’s good to see you again,” Jamie said.

Only one of Rebecca’s hands came up to rest against Jamie’s back to return the hug. When she pulled back slightly her smile had an oddly sad slant, and she murmured, “I really am sorry for this, Jamie.”

Jamie blinked, her face falling. “What -?”

Before she could move, Rebecca’s other hand came up and pressed something to Jamie’s flank. A flash of something like fire rippled through Jamie’s body, and then she slumped forwards into Rebecca’s arms, the world spinning and going dark.

When Jamie came to, she had a splitting headache and her side felt like it had been kicked by a very large very angry animal. She winced and slowly sat up with a groan. Blinking muzzily, she took inventory of her surroundings. Just a small room sheathed in dark metal panels from floor to ceiling, complete with the only door blocked by yellow plasma beam bars, and a Czerka logo stamped into one of the panels on the hallway outside.

And worst of all: no Dani in sight.

Great. Alone in the brig of a Czerka ship. And given her shit luck, Jamie had an inkling of exactly whose ship this belonged to as well.

“Fuck,” she said, lingering emphatically over every aspect of the word.

She had been placed along a bench in the cell, and now she dragged her sorry carcass into the corner so that she could prop her legs atop the bench and lean her head back against the wall. When the world finally stopped trying to tilt with every sluggish beat of her heart, Jamie patted herself down.

No mining laser, of course. That would’ve been the first thing they stripped off of her. No credit chits in her pocket. No multitools that she always kept on her person in case she ever needed to disassemble some machinery at work. The dogtags were still around her neck at least. At least if she died, whoever found her would be able to identify her body and return it to Tython or wherever the fuck nobodies like her in The Order went after death. Small miracles.

Nothing for it, then. She staggered upright and went to use the loo. When she’d finished, she returned to her place on the bench and thought about how fucked she was.

She’d been in plenty of bad scrapes in her time, but this was taking the coveted position of ‘Worst Hole Ever Dug by Jamie Taylor — May the Force Be With Her.’

A door opened in the near distance, then another, followed by quick footsteps. Jamie frowned at the hallway, waiting for some Czerka pillock to come take her away and shove her out an airlock. Instead Rebecca came into swift view.

"Here," she said, sliding Jamie's handheld mining laser along the floor through the bars, then began trying to pry a section of the wall away from the hallway in order to reveal a nest of wires leading to the control panel. "I've disabled the alarms and cameras for the brig, but we don't have much time. There's a cruiser docked in bay three. It has a hyperdrive and enough rations to get you to wherever you need to go. The Czerka fleet won't fire upon it so long as you're quick and you don't let them figure out it's you."

Jamie did not move. Teeth clenched, she crossed her arms and glowered at the opposite wall.

"Jamie -"

"Nope," Jamie said, jaw taut, refusing to even look in her direction.

"Listen to me," Rebecca gave up on hacking the control panel. She tried to move into Jamie's line of sight but Jamie kept turning her head aside. "There is more to this than what it appears. I know about the infiltration of House Thul. I know about the -"

"I don't care about what you know,” Jamie cut her off. "If you think I'll listen to another word out of your mouth, then you've got another thing coming."

"I'm trying to make sure I can get you out of here alive, you thick-headed Rim-Rat!" Rebecca snapped.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!”

With a bitter laugh, Rebecca leaned against the frame of the cell, careful to not touch the plasma beam bars. “That’s rich, knowing your history. I’ve never met a person who gets into more trouble than you.”

Jamie put on her best sneer and asked, "What's Quint got over you this time, then? Eh?"

Rebecca shook her head and looked away with an incredulous noise, hands on her hips. "It's not like that."

"Like hell it's not," Jamie growled. "All that time you spent outwitting the Empire, and now this? He is Imperial through and through."

"I know exactly what Peter is."

"Yeah. A piece of shit, who'd sell his mother if it means saving his own sorry hide."

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rebecca said and her voice was low. She darted her eyes down the hall, as if watching for any potential eavesdroppers. “And you are in far deeper shit than you could possibly understand. That woman you’re with -”

Sitting up straighter, Jamie swung her legs over the side of the bench and onto the ground, suddenly alert. “Where is she?”

Rebecca fixed her with a serious expression. Rather than answer, she said, “She’s dangerous.”

“She’s scared,” Jamie corrected.

“Which is quite possibly the worst thing for her to be.”

Rising to her feet, Jamie glowered through the plasma bars. Her voice was pure venom. “If you had just helped me get her to Tython, then I could’ve gotten her proper training.”

“The Order won’t take her.”

Jamie had to stop herself from striking out at the bars, even knowing they would give her burns all across her skin. “You know fuck all about The Order!” she snarled, pointing at Rebecca’s infuriatingly calm face through the bars.

In the distance a door opened with a hiss of pressurized air. Both Jamie and Rebecca tensed and looked over in that direction. Or, well, Jamie tried to look but the view from the cell was pretty limited, all things considered. She'd had better views from the brigs of far less fancy ships than this.

Footsteps approached. Turning back, Rebecca lowered her voice and said in a rush, "Jamie, listen to me for once in your life. You are my friend, and I am going to get you out of this, but you have to do what I say."

Jamie shook her head. "No. Not without her."

Swearing fluently under her breath, Rebecca slammed the section of wall back into place to hide her attempted tampering. She’d only just managed to get everything in place and turn around, when no less than four Czerka guards in green and gold livery marched into sight. All of them were holding blaster rifles and were armoured to boot. They weren’t walking military-grade arsenals like the Republic Troopers from the transport, but they still weren’t people Jamie wanted to fuck with unless she had some serious firepower at her back. Hastily Jamie hid her mining laser in one of her bulky pockets, praying they wouldn’t pat her down.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” one of them said to Rebecca.

Rebecca pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “I noticed the cameras were down and came to investigate in case the prisoner managed to escape.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, then stomped past her to key in a code into the control panel leading to Jamie’s cell. “Next time, alert one of us instead.”

The plasma bars fizzed out of existence. The leader of this particular pillock squad made a sharp motion to the others, and two of them marched forward, grabbed Jamie by the shoulders, and hauled her upright.

“Easy does it, lads,” Jamie grumbled. “Could’ve just asked.”

One of them clipped her on the back of the head with his gauntleted fist. “Quiet.”

After they yanked her hands behind her back and clipped a set of handcuffs around her wrists, they marched her out of the cell. Jamie gave Rebecca the dirtiest glare she possibly could, and Rebecca just rolled her eyes in response, trailing after the group. Two sets of hands remained firm around Jamie’s upper arms as they walked, guiding her further into the depths of the ship.

When they all crowded into an elevator together, doors sliding shut behind them, a cheerful cantina tune began to play.

“So,” Jamie ventured. “Don’t suppose anyone’s got a light?”

No answer. From the corner of her vision, Jamie could just make out Rebecca biting back an ill-timed smile in the back of the elevator. Or maybe she was trying to stop herself from screaming in frustration. Difficult to tell from this angle.

“Just trying to be neighbourly,” Jamie grumbled.

“Shut up,” said one of the guards whose fingers dug into her arm.

A light dinged, the music stopped, and the elevator doors opened with a hiss. Jamie couldn’t see beyond the massive frame of the two guards standing in front of her, but soon the four of them were flanking her as they all moved forward, leading her onto the bridge of what appeared to be Peter Quint’s flagship.

Or at least, that was what Jamie assumed. And given that Peter Quint was standing at the head of the bridge, she reckoned she wasn’t too far off the mark.

His hands were clasped behind his back and he faced away, looking out through the transparisteel windows at the sleek fore of the ship pointing into space, surrounded by a veritable fleet of other vessels that looked like they were on direct loan from the Empire. The long hems of Peter’s dark coat brushed his ankles, but he did not turn around or indeed take any notice of the new arrivals. In fact, he seemed engaged in deep conversation with someone whom Jamie could not see. The light glinted off one of his hands, the metal dark of his cybernetic limb dark. If Jamie hadn’t been looking for it, she might have mistaken it for a glove of some sort.

The bridge split into three segments, the centre being command ending in a . Two of the guards veered off to the left, while another marched straight forward to address Peter. The last kept a firm hold of Jamie’s arm and hauled her off to the right, circling around while Rebecca trailed behind them, silent. As they went, Jamie got a better view of exactly who Peter was talking to, and she started.

“Dani -”

The guard yanked at Jamie’s arm to keep her on course, and the three of them stopped at the head of the right wing, separated from command by a pit sunk into the floor, where engineers and pilots and God only knows who else toiled away pressing buttons or something. Jamie had no idea what was required to run a ship this size. Armed men, apparently, for that constituted the majority of people on the bridge. Guards at the doors. Guards at the helm. Guards along the walls.

Dani’s wrists weren’t bound with handcuffs, but she was kneeling on the ground as if she’d fallen there, and her cheek bore a bruise that was already starting to go purple. Her shoulders were hunched around her ears, and she was leaning away from Peter. When Jamie had spoken, Dani’s eyes flicked in her direction then widened. She opened her mouth as if to answer, but snapped it shut once more, wringing her hands together in her lap. She was not wearing the lightsabre anywhere on her person.

Peter had tilted his head to listen to whatever report the guard was delivering to him. He nodded and the guard went away with a sharp salute. And then he turned to look at Jamie.

“Jamie,” he said, “It’s been a minute.”

“Yeah, not nearly enough,” Jamie muttered.

The guard cuffed her again. Not enough to bruise, but enough to sting. On the other side of her, Jamie saw Rebecca’s hand tighten into a fist.

If Peter seemed at all troubled by this exchange, he did not show it. “You’ve led us on a bit of a merry chase, you know. Could’ve saved me the trouble and just let me have her back on Telos IV.”

Nodding towards Dani, Jamie said, "Since when do you care about dead Jedi? Or bounties for that matter? You’re rolling in credits."

Peter let out a bark of laughter. "About - what?" He looked down at Dani, saw the stricken expression on her face, and then he smiled that sickly sweet smile of his. "Oh, I see."

Dani did not move. She did not speak.

When Peter continued speaking, it was not to Jamie. “No, it’s not credits I’m after. Or Jedi. But you know that. Don’t you, darling?” He crouched down before Dani, who shrank back from him. His voice was soft when he said, "You know what I want. Just give it back, love, and you can be on your way. I'll even give you your own personal escort back to Alderaan with enough credits to drown yourself in. How does that sound?"

Dani blinked up at him in surprise. Then her eyes darted in Jamie's direction.

Peter followed her gaze, and Jamie wanted to burn the smirk off his smug fucking face. "Ah, no," he said, turning back to Dani. "I'm afraid that one stays with me."

Dani licked at her lips and straightened her shoulders. "You let her go, or I won’t give it to you."

From this angle Jamie couldn't see the expression on Peter's face. His broad shoulders held a barely restrained tension, as though on the cusp of explosive movement. And when he spoke, even the gentle softness of his voice was a lie, "Very well. You have my word."

Don't, Jamie wanted to shout in warning. Don't do it.

Slowly, Dani reached into her cloak and unpicked a section of the lining, revealing a makeshift hidden pocket. She rummaged around then pulled something out and set it on the floor. Jamie strained to get a better look. Her captor kneed her roughly in the back for her trouble, and she would've gone face first into the ground if not for the hand in her hair yanking her back so that she remained upright.

It didn't stop her from catching a glimpse of what was being exchanged, however. Shards of metal, black gold. All in pieces, like a disassembled puzzle.

Peter was silent. He stared down at the pieces Dani had placed at his feet. Then in a smooth motion he stood, pushing himself upright to loom over her.

"Do you think this is funny?" he asked in that too quiet, too dangerous tone.

Eyes wide, Dani shook her head. "No, I -"

Peter kicked the pieces away with a vicious swipe of his foot, and Dani flinched back with a startled cry. He darted forward and seized a handful of her cloak.

"Where is it?" he snarled.

"That's - That's all I have! The box fell apart after I touched it, I swear!"

Peter's hand tightened around the fabric, pulling up so that Dani was held slightly off the ground by the scruff of her neck, her feet scrambling for purchase on the metal flooring. "Box?" he repeated. "I'm not asking about a fucking toy box! Where is the holocron?"

"The -? The what?"

With a vicious curse, he threw her back onto the ground. Dani caught herself on her hands with a hiss of pain, and she flinched back when Peter began to circle her.

"Don't play dumb," he said. "You know what I'm after."

"I don't -"

"You think I'm fucking blind? You think a piece of shit nobody from a backwater in Alderaan can kill a Jedi? You think you just woke up one day with powers?" He stalked around her, his expression a mask of fury. "You are nothing. You are nobody. You're not Force sensitive. You're a puppet. Just a piece of meat to house something greater, and you don't even fucking know it!"

The deck fell silent but for the beep of electronics, the rustle of fabric as pilots kept the ship on course. Jamie darted a look towards Rebecca, but her face was carefully blank and guarded, her thumb hooked through the belt of her blaster pistol in a way that Jamie knew meant she was actually nervous about something. None of which boded well.

“I was so close,” Peter was saying, and he didn’t even seem to be talking to Dani anymore. His words were a ranting mutter, wrathful and desperate. The metal of his robotic arm clicked in a menacing fashion every time he clenched his hand into a rhythmic fist. “This was it. This was my last run. The last deed I’d ever have to do for those evil cocksuckers on Dromund Kaas. Plant a holocron and be done with it. Be free of the Empire forever. Until you -”

His voice trailed off and his steps slowed to a halt. In the muddy light of the bridge, he was a faceless silhouette. He clenched his metal fist so tightly that it creaked and sparked. Dani shivered on the ground at his feet, her shoulders hunched, as though she were trying to make herself small enough to disappear.

“You went snooping. You took something that didn’t belong to you. And I need it back. No matter the price.” In a swift movement, Peter crouched down on his haunches again. Dani flinched back, but Peter merely watched her for a long and uncomfortable moment before he continued, “So, what’s it going to be?”

From where she stood, Jamie could just make out the defiant set of Dani’s jaw.

Sighing, Peter reached out and tucked a stray curl of hair behind Dani’s ear, while Dani sat, frozen in place. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like hurting people,” he said. “Always the worst way of going about it. And, you know, it just doesn’t work as well as you’d think. So, tell me. What’s your price? Hmm? What do I have to do to get you to talk?”

When again Dani did not answer, Peter withdrew his hand. “Normally I’m a patient man, but as we live and breathe, there’s a Dark Lord of the Sith coming our way. If you don’t deal with me, then you’ll be dealing with him. And I assure you: you want to be dealing with me instead.”

Licking her lips, Dani said, “I already told you everything I know.”

“Well, that is disappointing.”

Jamie tried to shift her feet slightly so she could get a better angle on the rest of the bridge, but the guard behind her kicked her in the back of the knee. When she went down with a grunt of pain, her knee slamming into the ground, the guard then yanked her back up by the handcuffs behind her with enough force she felt her arm sockets complain.

“Get up,” the guard growled, and Jamie shot him a look that should have dropped him on the spot.

The brief commotion drew Peter and Dani’s attention back in this direction. Peter pushed himself upright and turned, while Dani’s panicked gaze moved from him to Jamie and back again.

“Or maybe I’m going about this the wrong way,” Peter murmured. He walked slowly across the bridge towards Jamie.

“Even if I did know something, you and I both know I’d rather cut out my own tongue than tell you,” Jamie spat. The guard tightened his hold on her handcuffs, but she pinned him in place with a fierce glare and said, “Touch me again, and I’ll end you, mate.”

Peter held up his hand before the guard could react. When Jamie faced him once more, Peter was close enough that she could see the thin scar on his cheek. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been the one to give it to him. She didn’t know where in his sordid past he’d gotten it.

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile that never touched his eyes. “Oh, Jamie. I never thought you actually knew something. You’re much too simple to get sensible answers before leaping to a lost cause.”

In spite of herself, Jamie’s gaze darted to Dani who was watching their interaction with naked dread.

Peter followed her gaze and grinned. “Aye,” he said. “That’s the one.”

And without further ado, he drew his blaster pistol, pointed it at Jamie, and shot her. The smell of burnt flesh was an afterthought to the blinding pain that sent her vision white. Jamie staggered, keeling slowly over the charred wound low in her abdomen just above her hip. Something cold was pressed against her face, and it was with a blurred realisation that Jamie found herself lying on the floor. She blinked through the muzzy borders of her vision, trying to move and only managing to gurgle weakly.

Right. Bad idea, that.

At least blaster fire didn’t allow for my bleeding. Mass internal burn trauma, yes, but she wasn’t about to bleed out on the floor. Every breath was a sharp lance through Jamie’s stomach. She pushed herself into a crouch on all fours, registering the commotion around her as if experiencing it through water.

“ - Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare -!”

“Peter, killing her gets you nothing. You should -”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Becs! I won’t be taking orders ever again! Not from you, and especially not from the Empire!”

“Then get what you need, but Jamie doesn’t have it. And neither, it seems, does she.”

Three sets of boots surrounded her. The guard beside her, and Rebecca standing between her and Peter. As Jamie tilted her head up, Peter started to stalk away. His footsteps were loud against the metal grating of the floor, and he dropped heavily into the captain’s chair at the head of the bridge. He had holstered his pistol and now he reached down to pick up something that had been propped up against the base of the chair.

He pressed a button, and the lightsabre leapt to life. The blue light scattered across his face. “The holocron isn’t on Alderaan,” Peter said. “We did a very thorough check. Which means you -” he pointed the lightsabre at Dani, who was now standing at the centre of the bridge facing him, “- must have left it somewhere between there and Telos IV.”

Dani’s expression was dark, her hands were trembling fists at her side.

With a sigh, Peter sheathed the lightsabre and set it on the arm of his chair. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs so that his ankle was propped on his opposite knee. Addressing the guard beside Jamie, he said, “Rebecca’s right Jamie doesn’t know anything of use. Take her to the lower decks and throw her out the airlock.”

The guard did not even say an affirmative. He simply hauled Jamie to her feet, and began dragging her back towards the exit despite Rebecca’s protests.

“Leave her alone.”

There was something wrong with Dani’s voice. An odd burr, a hard quality that did not suit her. She still had her gaze fixed upon Peter, but something in the way she spoke made every person in the room tense. The guard shoving Jamie along froze, looking back towards Peter for further instruction.

There was an internal pressure building in Jamie’s chest, something like desperation, like the acrid aftertaste of gunmetal and blasterfire. All around them, the wall panels groaned. A few crumpled beneath the strain. Rupture of pipe and control panels, and with a screech of metal on metal all the lights on the bridge went out. Steam from the burst pipes billowed along the floor. Every guard in the room — even Jamie’s — raised their weapon towards Dani, glancing nervously around. Moments later, the emergency lighting flickered to life, illuminating the deck with a faint glow.

Quint’s face was cast from below. Unlike the others, he had not moved, remaining slouched on his captain’s chair like a low-slung throne. He smiled at Dani. “Was that supposed to impress anyone?”

Dani reached out her hand and the sabre that had been resting on the arm of Peter’s chair was in Dani’s grasp before Jamie could even blink, as though it had leapt into place there. With a press of her thumb, the blade extended, slicing a blue line through the gloom. The air was cold, so cold that Jamie could see her own breath misting in a cloud, and the icy fear that had twisted in her chest was a thing now slicked with darkness. A treachery of black ice beneath every step.

She watched, handcuffed and helpless, as Dani gripped the sabre so tightly that her hands shook. One of Dani’s eyes gleamed gold and bright, unblinking, fixed upon Peter, and from the hilt a crimson light peeled down the length of the blade, a slow and burning bleed of kyber, until the sabre was completely engulfed in a light as red as a dying star.

“Open fire,” Peter said, voice trembling, face pale, staring at her with wide eyes. He jabbed his finger in Dani’s direction and repeated in a shout to the room at large, “Open fucking fire!”

Over a dozen guardsmen sighted down their blaster rifles and began shooting. The lightsabre was a living thing in Dani’s hands. It moved in ways Jamie had only ever seen in training manuals, in the hands of Knights and Masters. No motion wasted. Every angle of the blade made with surety of purpose.

Four guards were dead by their own reflected blaster fire before they could even manage to pull the trigger a second time. Dani reached out, and four others had their rifles ripped from their hands, the weapons warping into useless hunks of metal and cast aside. One of the guards stationed at the exit raced forward, pulling out a long knife that had been strapped to his thigh. Dani did not even pause in deflecting incoming blaster fire; she swept the lightsabre behind her, passing the hilt between her hands and bringing it back around. Half of the guard’s severed body went careening into the control pit, where the pilots and engineers cowered with hands over their heads. The other half skidded to a halt on the floor, dead weight.

Jamie’s mouth hung open. Blaster fire continued to fly through the air in streaks of red. The guard who had been assigned to her was torn between trying to shoot Dani and trying to keep a hand on his charge. Then Rebecca stepped forward, pressed the muzzle of her pistol to the side of his head, and pulled the trigger. He crumpled into a heap on the ground, and Jamie swore loudly.

Crouching down, Rebecca grabbed something off the guard’s body and used it to unlock Jamie’s handcuffs. “Don’t just stand there!” Rebecca yelled over the din, and she circled an arm around Jamie’s waist to help her along. “Let’s go!”

The two of them lurched towards the exit. A deflected shot struck the ground beside them, and they ducked down. Smoke and steam filled the air. The smell of blaster fire and burnt flesh was thick enough to make Jamie gag. Cursing under her breath all the while, Rebecca pulled Jamie to the exit, where a guardsman was sprawled, dead on the floor with a hole the size of a fist burnt through his chest. Rebecca had to let go of Jamie for a second to haul the guard closer so she could use his hand to unlock the biosecurity lock on the exit. The panel flashed green, and Rebecca dropped the guard in favour of Jamie again.

The elevator was eleven floors down and slowly started to ascend.

“Come on,” Rebecca was muttering under her breath to herself. “Come on, come on, come on -”

Behind them, the blaster fire dwindled to a halt. There was the sound of something heavy and wet falling to the ground. With a thrill of sickening fear gripping her stomach, Jamie turned and felt Rebecca do the same.

The walls were scarred and pitted. A shower of sparks fell from the ceiling where a wall panel had been shot loose. Through the haze of smoke, Jamie could make out the shape of bodies scattered across the floor, and at the very centre of it all Dani stood.

Her back was to them. She faced the captain’s chair, the lightsabre burning red through the acrid smoke. For a moment it seemed Peter was standing to his feet, but then Jamie realised he was being lifted up. He grasped at his throat with both hands, heels lashing out at the air, making wordless strangled noises, gasping. Then his head snapped to one side with a sickening crack, and he went still. Dani looked up at him and with an almost lazy gesture, tossed him aside. His body slammed into a far wall and fell to the ground in a heap.

Jamie’s pulse skyrocketed when Dani turned around and looked at them. And when Dani started to stalk in their direction, adrenaline coursed through Jamie; every nerve in her body was screaming for her to flee, to hide in some small dark place until this danger had passed over the land like the shadow of night.

Dani’s cold gaze fell upon Rebecca, and she raised the lightsabre once more.

“Woah!” Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe it was the pain doing funny things to her head, but Jamie leapt in front of Rebecca, hands trembling and lifted as though in surrender. “No, no! I mean, yeah, I’m also mad at her, but I don’t want her to die!”

“Thanks,” muttered Rebecca behind her.

“Shut up,” Jamie muttered back.

Dani had gone still, but the weapon was still a gleaming line of bloody crimson held overhead.

“She can get us a cruiser with a hyperdrive,” Jamie said. “We can get out of here. Just - put down the lightsabre? Please?”

The elevator made a bright ding behind them and the doors slid open. Dani leveled the lightsabre and for a brief terrifying moment Jamie thought she was going to cut it straight through her from shoulder to hip. The blade stopped, pointing at Rebecca just over Jamie’s shoulder, and she made a sharp little gesture with the tip that Jamie could hear burning up the air right next to her ear.

"Move," Dani ordered softly, and her voice sounded odd. As though there was more than one person speaking in unison.

Rebecca moved, backing slowly into the elevator. Lowering her hands, Jamie followed. Dani watched them with the fixedness of a predator, the air around her cold enough that Jamie shivered when Dani stepped into the small enclosed space with them. The lightsabre still seared in Dani’s fist, pointed towards the ground. Rebecca hit a button for hangar bay three, and the doors of the elevator shut with a hiss.

The elevator started its descent. If this had been any other time, Jamie might have been tempted to reach out, gently grasp Dani’s wrist and urge her to put the lightsabre away. But this was not any other time, and there was nothing of the woman Jamie had grown to know over the last week in Dani’s face now. She stared blankly at the shut elevator doors, never blinking.

They arrived at hangar bay three and Rebecca immediately rushed over to the console that controlled access to the ship docked just beyond the hangar doors. She hooked something into the base of the console, making the screen flicker before giving her full admin privileges. As she started keying in the right commands, Jamie walked up beside her.

Dani drifted behind her, blade in hand, completely silent. It felt like being followed by a mute ghost.

Whatever Rebecca did worked. The hangar doors unlatched, turned, then slowly opened to reveal the sleek polished interior of a luxury cruiser yacht. Jamie stepped into the yacht’s entryway and looked around at the gleaming walls. Finally, Dani hit the button to sheathe the lightsabre and brushed past Jamie without a glance in her direction, vanishing around a corner of the cruiser. The brief contact made Jamie shiver.

“Right. Okay,” said Jamie, hand pressing on the wound at her abdomen, still jittery from that feeling of being prey in the sights of something with very big teeth. She turned to Rebecca. “Fuck you, I guess?”

From behind the console, Rebecca smiled weakly at her. “I suppose I deserve that. Does this mean I owe you a favour?”

“The biggest favour,” Jamie said gravely. “Like - seriously huge.”

“Until next time, then. Oh, and Jamie?” Rebecca said, and Jamie paused to glance back at her. “Don’t die.”

Swallowing thickly, Jamie nodded, then Rebecca hit the button to shut the doors.

Easier said than done.

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #star wars #roman writes #no great revelation #damie #dani clayton/jamie

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ghosttotheparty · 4 years ago

Text

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

6. I can’t even leave my room so I keep pouring AO3

And I've been looking for someone to put up with my bullshit I can't even leave my bedroom so I keep pouring And I ain't seen a light of day since, well, that's not important It's been long - Feeling Whitney // Post Malone

Lucas actually wakes up this morning.

It’s nice. Much better than laying against his wall all through the night, his eyes stuck on his laptop, watching Netflix or Youtube, or on his sketchbook, watching his pencil or pen or paint trailing across the page, leaving lines and smudges in its wake. And then looking up blearily when he realises he can see across his dark room because the sun is peeking through his blinds.

Today he wakes up when his phone starts buzzing and chiming next to his head, half under his pillow. It startles him, and he gasps as his eyes fly open, sitting up and muttering, “Jesus…” as he shuts off his alarm and tosses it to the floor next to him. It clatters against the wood and he winces, looking up at his door and running a hand through his hair.

He grabs food from the kitchen and eats it during his first class, scribbling the homework on a piece of paper he finds on the floor and doodling flowers and eyes as he forgets to pay attention. The teacher's voice turns into white noise.

- - -

He drifts off again in another class, and wakes up to a chorus of voices saying “Thank you,” and “Goodbye.” He doesn’t bother joining them, instead just clicking the hang up button and dropping his head to his arm, sighing and closing his eyes for a second before pushing himself up and groaning.

It’s the third red button he’s pressed just today.

He thinks about how many he presses a day.

Five classes, five red buttons.

Five days a week.

For weeks and weeks.

And weeks.

Christ.

Lucas huffs and pushes himself to sit cross-legged in front of the computer. He pushes it out of his mind, the remembrance that this is… it. All he has. This and a few texts from Kes and Jayden, usually about school or other kids from school, often complaining. Usually complaining. Sometimes he gets texts from Isa, silly selfies or pictures of birds. She knows he likes birds. Sometimes he gets texts from Noah, pictures of his art, drawings and paintings and doodles, or texts from Janna, which are never expected but always make him laugh. Sometimes Liv texts him just to check in.

It.

Homework and classes and red buttons and once-in-a-while texts from people he doesn’t see anymore.

And Jens, he remembers as his phone buzzes. And he smiles, but he really shouldn’t, so he pushes it away as he reaches to the floor and grabs the phone, reading.

guess what i’m making… 🥚🍳👨🏻🍳

He lets the smile push its way back onto his face (there’s no one to see anyway) as he shakes his head.

you didn’t give me time to guess, dummy

He lays on his back and holds his phone above his head, sighing as the bubble appears on his screen.

i’m impatient

Lucas scoffs, shaking his head again.

anyway good morning 😌, Jens texts a few seconds later.

good morning 🌞, Lucas responds even though it’s not really that sunny out. how are you today

well i woke up to my sisters arm hitting me in the face and i just burned an egg so that’s just kind of how it’s going so far you?

Lucas smiles again.

pretty dry so far but who knows

Like it’s a trigger, Lucas’s door swings open loudly and he tilts his head back, looking at his father upside down.

“...Yes?”

“You have to do the dishes, yeah?” he says flatly.

“But I did them last night,” Lucas says, still holding his phone above his head. He doesn’t look at it, even as it gives a short buzz with Jens’s response.

“And I brought dinner for you.”

“You brought chicken home and I cooked it.”

It’s true. Lucas had to Google how to do it, and it was the blandest, driest chicken he’s ever had, but it sufficed. There was nothing else in the kitchen he could have made. Back home, there’s usually things in the cupboard to micwave.

“Lucas—” His dad pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, huffing. Exasperated, like Lucas is the issue here. “Just do it.”

“Fine, whatever,” Lucas mutters, looking at his phone, but he doesn’t get to read the message before his dad snaps at him.

“Don’t whatever me,” he says sharply.

“Fine,” Lucas says, stopping him. “Yes. I will.”

He leaves without shutting Lucas’s door.

Lucas takes a second, huffing at the open hallway. He hates him. And he knows he Shouldn’t, because He’s His Father, but he can’t not. It’s his face. Even before Lucas knew about how much of a dick he is, his face told Lucas everything. Always angry, disappointed. Always bitter, like he tried to sue the universe and lost. His eyes always look pinched. Especially when he looks at Lucas.

He doesn’t know why, honestly. It’s not like he even really knows Lucas. Anything about Lucas that’s actually important. Not that Lucas would tell him anything important.

(He has a list of things he doesn’t ever plan on telling him. His being gay is the top one. He’s never heard his father talk about queer people, but he doesn’t have to to know that he’s probably a bigot. His art is another thing. He doesn’t want to listen to his father talk about how it’s not a Viable Career Option, or how it’s a Waste of Time.)

He looks at his phone after a second.

😔 boring days suck wanna call later and do hw together?

Lucas exhales, trying to sigh away his frustration.

yes ofc you said you can do math right?

He shuts the door (quietly) while he waits for Jens’s answer.

i’m a math genius call me fuckin newton

Lucas scoffs, shaking his head as he sits back on his mattress, leaning back so his head falls off the edge, upside down.

great so that means you’ll do my hw for me

Lucas bites his lip, trying to suppress the smile that appears in anticipation as Jens types.

hmmmm what’s in it for me?🤔

uhhhhh moral support

Lucas grins as you amaze me appears on his screen, followed by oh i can teach you math, which promptly makes him roll his eyes and reply with an exaggerated uuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhh.

Jens replies with oop i gotta go, and then, as Lucas prepares to send the eye-rolling emoji, see you after school🙃.

Lucas sends the emoji anyway, along with you’re the worst.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzes with love you too <3 , and his lingering smile falters. He sits up, swallowing and setting the phone down.

Because the pause in him, the skipped beat of his heart, the way the words tug at him even as he reads and rereads and rereads them, even as his brain knows the irony, the playfulness, the mindlessness in Jens’s saying it, can only mean one thing, and he hates himself for it.

Lucas is fucked.

- - -

So he ignores it, of course. It can’t be happening. It can’t. He’s known Jens for a few days. There’s no reason for his stomach to flutter the way it does when he gets a text from him, or when his name lights up his computer screen on Google Meets.

“He-ey,” Jens sings when Lucas answers, and a smile flickers across Lucas’s face involuntarily.

“Hey.”

“How you doing?”

“Fine,” Lucas answers, neglecting to mention the rest of his day, which was absolutely not fine. The door slams are still ringing in his head. “You?”

“Eh.”

“Hm,” Lucas chuckles. “Hey, who's your maths teacher?”

“Clark,” Jens says, looking at Lucas with his pixelated eyes. Even glitchy and blurry, Lucas can see that he’s beautiful.

“Great,” he says, ignoring it. “Have you done homework for lesson seven?”

“I absolutely have not,” Jens chirps. “I can do it and show you how to solve the problems.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mhmm.” Jens puckers his lips, nodding and furrowing his brows. “Mhmm, mhmm. Well. I could do it and send you the answers.”

“That sounds great,” Lucas says, sarcastically sweet.

Jens snickers, reaching past his laptop, and Lucas watches as the collar of his shirt falls, a section of his skin exposed before he sits back, pulling a messy notebook, loose papers hanging out of it, and calculator with him.

“Wanna read while I work?” Jens asks, oblivious to the heat in Lucas's chest.

“Oh, yeah, I can do that.”

Lucas barely even processes the words he reads to Jens, his brain somehow paying more attention to the quiet, hushed murmurs of numbers coming from Jens.

He hears Jens mutter, “Divide by six…” and click his tongue in thought a few times just as Lucas reads, “‘...like moths against the whispering and the champagne and the stars.’”

He listens to Jens intently, even though half (or maybe just a quarter) of his mind is on the book, and even though he only catches every few words. Some words, sixty, sixteen, seventy seven, are sharp and cut right through their connection. His murmurs are nearly completely unintelligible, but Lucas listens like he’s actually trying to learn something.

It’s not until Jens says, “Lu?” softly, that Lucas realises he’s stopped reading completely, the book fallen shut in his lap with his index finger holding the page loosely, and he startles, looking directly into Jens’s eyes. His face burns up at the nickname, and at the fact that he had been so enraptured by Jens muttering maths to himself that he had forgotten completely to read.

“I— Yeah, sorry,” he says, looking away and opening the book, hoping Jens can’t see how hot his face is.

“Why’d you stop?” A smile is spread across Jens’s face. Like he knows.

“I—” Lucas stutters again. “You seemed to focussed, I didn’t wanna distract you.”

“Aw.” Jens tilts his head. “That’s sweet.” There’s a pause, and he looks down, flipping a paper that’s out of Lucases sight, before he says, “I’m almost done, I can send you pictures after so do this one.”

“Yeah,” Lucas says, trying not to let out another stammer. His face burns again. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been listening.

Jens clicks his tongue as he thinks again, and Lucas hears the clicking of his calculator and the scratch of his pencil on paper.

“Add on both sides,” he says quietly, and then, “Oh, that’s not right,” flipping his pencil over to erase it.

Lucas snickers.

“Don’t you laugh at me,” Jens says, a smile playing at his lips. “You know you can’t do better.”

“You’re not wrong.”

When Jens finally finishes the problem (he has to try again two more times; he’d skipped the problem to leave it for the end when he’d started) he texts pictures of it to Lucas, and Lucas closes the book, folding the corner of the page.

He can feel Jens watching him as he copies down the answers.

“Number four is seventy three?” he says, zooming in on the photo.

“Thirteen,” Jens says, his voice softer than Lucas expected.

“Oh, that makes more sense.” Lucas writes it. “Why the hell do your ones look like sevens?”

“I don’t know,” Jen says defensively, making a face. “It’s never been a problem before.”

“It’s weird.” He’s met with silence. “If you’re making a face at me, I can’t see it.”

Jens lets out a laugh, and Lucas grins. If sunshine made a sound, it would be Jens’s laughter.

“How do you know me so well?” Jens asks, still laughing.

Lucas giggles, snorting and shaking his head as he looks up to see Jens’s face brightening even more.

“That was so cute,” Jens says lightly, and Lucas feels like he’s on fire.

“Shut up. What’s number seven? It’s cut off in the picture.”

“Oh, shit, sorry. That’s…” Jens’s brows furrow. “Six, four… one—”

“You thought it was a seven, didn’t you?”

“Shut up. One point three two.”

“Thank you-u-u.”

Jens is quiet as Lucas copies the rest of the answers. He shakes his head at how messy Jens’s work is, shocked and honestly impressed with how his brian works, numbers and lines scattered across the page, the answers in neat, little boxes.

“Do any new drawings?” Jens asks abruptly as Lucas copies the last one.

“Huh?”

“Have you drawn anything new?”

“Uh..” Lucas finishes writing the final answer and boxing it like Jens’s. “Yes?”

“Oh?” When he looks up, Jens is resting his chin on his hands, smiling. “Tell me.”

Lucas pauses, biting his lip. He’s only done one, and it’s ripped and crumpled and shredded in the corner of his room in a plastic bin.

“I did one, but it was shit, so it’s in the trash—”

“What was it?”

“Uh, that’s not important.”

“...Okay.” He says it softly. Lucas is grateful. “Can you show me a drawing? Or like a sketch, or…”

Lucas smiles. Jens is clearly out of his element. But he’s trying.

“I might have a picture,” he says, moving the maths homework away. “Most of my sketchbooks are still in boxes.”

“You haven’t unpacked yet?” Jens asks as Lucas scrolls though his camera roll, photos of Utrecht mainly, with a few of homework and screenshots of messages from the guys scattered in there.

“No,” he says simply.

“Why?”

“Eh.” Lucas finds one of a drawing and looks at it, contemplating. It’s a sketch of Noah that he did a little after moving. He’d meant to send it to him, even considered mailing it with a little letter and some Antwerp souvenirs like a post card or something, but he never did. He sends it to Jens. “I don’t really plan on staying here that long, just until this summer.”

“Oh. Oh, woah.”

Lucas beams without wanting to, watching Jens’s head duck as he looks at his phone.

“That’s so good, Lucas.”

“Thank you,” Lucas responds, his voice small. He shifts in his seat on the mattress, fidgeting as Jens looks up at him.

“That’s so good.”

“Who is it?” Jens looks back down, moving his fingers across the screen, and Lucas can tell he’s zooming in on the photo.

“My friend from Utrecht, he’s an artist too.”

“Oh!” Jens looks up again. “Speaking of artists. I have a friend I think you’ll like.”

“You think I’ll like him because he’s an artist?”

Jens drops his phone.

“I think you’ll like him because he’s a cool guy, and you already have something in common.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You wanna meet him?” Jens asks, almost excitedly.

Lucas stares at him, tilting his head.

“Not in person,” Jens says. “Obviously.” He makes a face. “Sometimes we have, like, a group Zoom call with the guys, do you wanna join sometime?”

Lucas pauses, hoping Jens can see the despair in his face.

The guys.

“Uh— Yeah, why not?”

Jens beams.

It makes the screen glow brighter.

#hes in looooooove #:')#remember to drink water yall #and eat something #and take your meds #stretch your wrists and neck #i love you #<3 #wtfock #skam nl #wtfock fic #skam nl fic #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #vds #van der stoffels #while the world ends around us

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mikemoon · 4 years ago

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( choi yeonjun, cis man ) have you seen MICHAEL “MIKE” MOON ? i heard HE is a COMPUTER SCIENCE MAJOR at SAN VERTO COLLEGE and an EMPLOYEE at HALL OF FILM. they’re 22 years old and they’ve been living in san verto for 6 YEARS. they tend to be CARE-FREE & ADVENTUROUS, but rumor has it they can also be GRUMPY & CLUMSY. [ tally, 25, gmt+4, she/her ] @foolsstarters

tw // mentions of depression, cheating, divorce, underage drinking and smoking

michael moon, born myungjun moon –– choi yeonjun fc

birthday: september 9, 1998 - 22 yrs old ; virgo

cis man, he/him, bisexual

born and raised in philadelphia, pennsylvania

mike grew up being an only child, and always around the company of his mother in their house. his father was always traveling back and forth from south korea to the states for work. his parents have met at work on one of his father’s trips to the states, and they fell in love. his mother being american-born, she couldn’t really leave philadelphia. she loved it there. so they decided to keep it a long distance relationship.

sometime during those fleeting meetings, she had gotten pregnant with michael. and of course, his father spoiled them both, giving them everything they wanted. he never left them to fend for themselves. when the boy was born, his father named him myungjun, and his mother decided to name him michael for his english name. the nicknames jun, mike, and sometimes junnie were often heard whenever his parents or childhood friends called him.

up until mike was five years old in 2004, he’s lived with his mother, while his father was leaving and coming back for a week or two. but that year, he’s finally moved to the states and stayed with them for longer nights. he even finally married michael’s mother. of course, he still disappeared for a few days or weeks on end for work.

but that was also the year michael’s mother found out that her husband was with another woman. michael has never seen his mother break down like that before. sadly, the young boy was peering into the room when the fight happened and witnessed everything. his mother made her partner choose between the two women, and he eventually told her that he was going to divorce his first wife for her, and appeared to have gone through with his promise. because after that incident, he’s been around more often.

by early 2015, when michael had just turned 16, his mother had gotten a teaching job in ashdown academy, which resulted in their move to san verto, california. meaning, new school and new friends for mike. meanwhile, his dad was still traveling a lot for business and coming back whenever he could.

michael has grown up as a cheerful and energetic child. his friends at any school he went to would tell you how much of a great friend he is, how trustworthy and caring he is. it was so easy for him to make friends anywhere. he was the type of friend who would smile at you and listen to you talk on and on about whatever you liked, and the type who would cheer you on with anything you want to achieve. he wanted everyone to feel included and loved.

so it wasn’t that hard for him to get along with new people once he moved to town. he was a very social person.

he was also the type of teenager who was out there doing things he wasn’t supposed to. he missed his old friends and his old home, but he wanted to have fun with all the new kids he was befriending. that simply resulted in him going to house parties as an underaged teen to ‘have fun’. his mother didn’t approve of him coming home very late at night, clearly smelling like smoke and alcohol.

internally he was a depressed mess. of course, no one is completely happy as they grow up. his family was a mess, even if it appeared as fine to everyone else. his family life affected him so much while growing up. mike sometimes could disappear for a few days in his room, and it was always during some of his bad spells.

what made it worse was the day he found out the truth.

it was 2017 when michael walked into his father’s office in their house, looking for him to ask him about something. and instead of finding the man, he found a stack of papers poking from underneath his father’s laptop. upon closer look, they appeared to be divorce papers. michael’s heart sunk, thinking his parents were breaking it off.

michael is a curious kid, he couldn’t help but close the door and read the papers. but what he saw wasn’t his mother’s name, it was another woman. his heart raced, as he put things back where they were and immediately left the room. michael had found out one of his father’s many secrets. he never divorced his first wife all those years ago. he lied and somehow stayed with both women without suspicion... well, until now. clearly the other woman was breaking it off for a reason.

michael couldn’t help his curiosity. he came back to the room later that night and snapped as many pictures as he could of evidence he could find. he even found his father’s phone (which was easy to figure out the password of) and found a plethora of pictures of the man with a different family, different kids and a different partner. he airdropped the pictures to himself to avoid leaving any traces behind and quickly left again.

a quick search on facebook, and he managed to find the first wife. it was easy with the name and pictures he had. if anything, michael prided himself on being a good internet detective... or stalker. he spent everyday trying to find the rest of the family on the internet. he found the woman’s young daughter on instagram and twitter, along with her older son’s accounts as well. it felt weird. it was a constant “now what?” for michael. he’s found them. what was he going to do now? he couldn’t just message them and tell them everything. and he couldn’t break his mother’s heart by letting her know.

except he had to let her know. he could never live with the fact that he knew his father was betraying her this entire time. and so michael told her everything, and after comforting her all night when she broke down yet again, she immediately ended things and asked for a divorce. now it was just michael and his mother, all alone. and for once, having to get by on their own.

thankfully they were safe, with his mother’s amazing money management skills, and the job she got at the academy, they managed to live their regular lives despite the heavy feeling of a broken family looming around them. the two just wanted to be happy again.

michael spent the next few years trying to lead a normal life. his mental health had gotten worse after everything he’s found out. he went to college, and he continued trying to do well in school. he really wasn’t the best when it came to grades, but he was trying his best.

and truthfully, he couldn’t help but make a few spare accounts on some social medias to follow his father’s other family.

but he eventually decided to just let it go, assuming they definitely knew about his mother and himself, which would explain the first divorce. so he decided to put it in the past and move on.

his mother has moved on as well. she found herself someone who actually cares about her so much (mike’s stupid ass has done a secret background check to make sure this dude wasn’t another cheater lmaoo) and now mike isn’t an only child anymore. it’s been 2 years since his little sister yuna was born, and he loves her so much. he still isn’t used to the idea of a new fatherly figure in his life, but he’s.... getting there.

little dumb hcs

mike majors in computer science at san verto college, with a concentration in game development and design

hes a lil gamer boy,,, u KNOW he’s that annoying dude with a gamer chair that has a sound system in it khjkh

he posted a few videos on youtube but rly just ditched the channel after like a month. he still posts whenever he feels like it tho and it’s usually just.... messy gaming videos or opinions no one asked for

his dad’s dumb ass still doesn’t know it was mike who exposed him to his mother. he thinks she found the divorce papers on her own. therefore.... mike still gets money from his dad on a monthly basis and gets to keep the car he bought him for his 18th birthday lmaooooo a win

you probably heard me say this before but.... theres a hc that mike is allergic to eggs. simply bc the idea of him shopping in the vegan section is funny to me

this boy has a love for frogs ? idk where the obsession came from but you bet you’re gonna see a cute lil frog sticker on everything he owns. he doodles them on everything too ? it’s a habit at this point. he also knows random little facts about them and tells them to anyone who didnt ask for them

. embarrassing but.. this dude... omg.... a big sana stan.... he has a photocard collection.... he went to a twice concert like 5 times.... dont be surprised if you see a feel special sana photocard in his phonecase.... im embarrassed of him

he also has a hyunjin mcdonalds hashbrown photocard framed that a friend gave to him for christmas bc.. it’s a rare card,,, and you can see it on a table by the door when you walk into his apartment 😭

mike also has a habit of buying things he doesn’t need ?? he has a plushie collection that has been growing since he was young, and now is getting bigger with the rise of squishmallows

there’s this random hc where he drunk bought a cardboard cutout of john cena ,,,, don’t ask,,, it’s currently guarding his room back at his mom’s house djfhdj

can you tell mike is my most embarrassing , most chaotic character,,

also he moved out after graduating school and when he started to attend college,,,, gimme some roomies pls

connection ideas ??

michael’s childhood friends; could’ve gone to the same school back in philly before he moved away ??

friends he made when he moved to town?? mike is very social and was... kinda popular in school, i’d say. he made friends with basically anyone he found interesting

michael’s ex; they could’ve ended on a bad note, or even on a good one and ended up being friends. im really up for plotting anything.

michael’s best friend; PLEASE i love wholesome best friend plots. it doesn’t matter if they met in san verto or philly

roomies pls !!! i would love it if he could have some roommates who have to deal with his very . peculiar decorating habits

co workers ?? customers ? regulars ? he works at hall of film !

like this to plot or hmu !

#foolsintro #this got SO LONG #i didnt proof read and im sure i missed something

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nsheetee · 5 years ago

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Wifi

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: Roommate AU || Fluff, slightly crack-ish Length: 2k Warning: one mention of an adult theme, implied female reader Summary: You and Renjun have been rooming together for a while, not knowing of your hidden feelings for each other. Surprisingly, it’s the bad wifi connection in your room that brings you together.

〈〈〈━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━〉〉〉

You sigh for what seems like the umpteenth time that evening, your fingers angrily keyboard smashing on your laptop when the wifi bars at the top of the screen show only one small, weak bar barely hanging on.

Ever since you moved in with your new roommate Renjun, you’ve noticed how every once in a while around 11pm, the wifi in your room goes weak. Being a creature of the night that always gets their homework done during this time, it frustrates you that you have to take small breaks every few minutes for your computer to catch up with the internet connection.

Finally fed up with waiting for your computer to load, you pick up your supplies and march over to Renjun’s room, which is the closest room to the apartment’s wifi router. You knock on the door and after hearing an affirmative, you walk into the room. Renjun is buried under a pile of blankets on his bed with his hoodie pulled up to his lips and the hood over his forehead. The only light in the room is coming from his laptop and he hisses when you turn on the room light.

“Good God, turn that off before you blind me. What do you need?” You turn the light back off and instead turn on Renjun’s desk light, setting your stuff down on top of his abandoned homework.

“Can I finish my homework in here?”

“What’s wrong with your room?”

“The internet’s being dodgy again.” You explain and Renjun silently nods, shutting his laptop and putting his airpods into his ears as he looks through his phone. You sit at his “organized mess” of a desk, open your computer, and sigh contently when the wifi works smoothly.

Renjun peers over his phone to look at you. You’re concentrating hard on whatever paper you’re writing; your pajama shirt is so big that it covers your shorts and your hair is only held in it’s messy bun by a couple of pencils. He can’t see your face, but admiration pools in his chest.

He’s been lovesick for you ever since you interviewed to be his roommate. When you introduced yourself and answered all of his questions in your own quirky way, Renjun just about handed over the lease for you to sign then and there and called off all the other interviews he had that day. Since then, his small crush has grown bigger, but seems to be unnoticed by you. Renjun, instead of doing the obvious thing and confessing, decided to help you find out about his feelings “by yourself.”

Renjun found out that he can manually decrease the bandwidth of the apartment’s wifi just by logging into his internet service provider account online. So, he began to weaken the wifi every few nights around 11pm, when he knew you were doing your homework. Like clockwork, he’d hear your groans of frustration for a few moments before your feet pad over to his room and knock on the door, asking to do your homework in his room.

Was Renjun being ridiculous? Maybe… Was he going to stop this game he has you unknowingly playing? Not until you realize he has feelings for you or he gets enough guts to confess. Renjun sighs dejectedly when he thinks about the likeness of either of those events happening anytime soon. He sinks down further into his nest of blankets in an attempt to stop the feelings from taking over his chest, but to no avail.

Renjun has a total, major, embarrassing crush on his roommate.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You knock on Renjun’s door once again, sighing when he tells you to enter from inside. You walk in with your books and pens in your hands, your computer haphazardly balanced on top of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Renjun asks from his spot on the floor. His project for his biology class is spread out on the floor; some sort of visual presentation that involves a lot of paper cut outs and glue.

“Internet’s bad.” You look over his work, “Are you actually doing your homework? I didn’t know that was possible.” Renjun glaces up from gluing paper to his presentation, a blank stare on his face. He didn’t manually decrease the bandwidth of the wifi tonight. Are the internet gods smiling down on him and bringing you to him through their own will? He hopes so.

“Those are bold words for someone who needs internet and the only place to get it is in my room.” It’s your turn to give Renjun a blank stare as you drop off your supplies on his desk. “Come here.” He commands. You sit down criss-cross applesauce across from him and he hands you a thick permanent marker.

“Write this here.” He points to a small passage in his notebook and a blank space on the presentation board before moving to glue a different piece of paper.

“Why? I’m not going to do your homework for you in return for wifi. I live here, I pay with this wifi.” You point the marker tip at him but he ignores you, too focused on gluing a piece of paper to the cardboard.

“Once again, this is my room.” You sigh at his stubbornness, deciding to help him just this once. You take time to look around; although you’ve been rooming together for a few weeks now, this is the first time you’ve casually been in his room. The wall above his bed particularly catches your eye; his drawings, the quick doodles that he seems to be proud of, are hanging over his bed. Some are of people he’s seen at the coffee shop he usually hangs out in, some are of your house plants that you bought for the window sill in the kitchen.

Your heart softens when you look back at Renjun; he seems to be hyperfixed on gluing a particular piece of paper to the cardboard, his lips open in concentration and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You feel courage build up in your chest and your gut fill with fearlessness. This is it. You’re going to confess your feelings for your roommate right here and right now.

“Nice drawings.” You mumble out instead, cursing to yourself in your head when the courage fades.

“Really?” Renjun asks, looking over his shoulder to the drawings. “They’re just doodles…” He tries to sound humble, but you can see the tilt of one side of his lips as he tries to hide his smile.

“Yeah, golden hands, they’re good.” You roll your eyes, deciding to feed his ego. It distracts him long enough to allow you to stand up and escape to Renjun’s desk chair. You start your own homework, a yawn leaving your lips. Maybe tonight isn’t the time to confess your crush on your roommate, but you hope he’ll be able to see the little hints you give of your feelings.

Renjun once again can’t help but stare at your back as you work, not minding that you’re not helping him anymore. He hates that your small, seemingly insignificant comment about his artwork makes his heart pound. He wishes the wifi could stop working by itself more often so he could see you naturally, like he did tonight.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You don’t knock this time as you enter Renjun’s room, throwing up a peace sign as you close the door behind you and walk to his desk.

“Hey,” He raises his voice. “I get you have homework to do and the internet is weird, but at least knock. What if I was… masterbating in here or something.” He mumbles the last part and you snort.

“I still need to use the internet. So if you’re gonna masterbate anytime soon, please go do it somewhere else.”

“This is my room.” Renjun whines, throwing the drawing pad he was using before you barged in next to him and flopping onto his bed.

“Or so you keep saying.” You tease some more, setting down your supplies on his desk.

Renjun hasn’t touched the wifi bandwidth in weeks for fear that his meddling has caused the wifi to actually turn bad in your apartment. His wish came true: the wifi kept breaking and messing up in your room, all by itself. Now, you were constantly in Renjun’s room doing your homework and although Renjun likes you (literally), he doesn’t like how you welcome yourself in.

You surprise him by laying down next to him; you’re both facing the ceiling, hands on your stomachs and sighs escaping your lips every few seconds. Renjun can’t tell what you’re thinking, he’s too afraid to look at your face for the fear of not being able to quit looking. He doesn’t know if you’re as affected as him by your arm meeting his every time you breath, or if you can sense his thoughts racing at 1,000 miles an hour in his head. He tries to breathe evenly when he catches a whiff of your moisturizer, the one he said he liked a few weeks ago and that you’ve been using everyday since.

“Aren’t you here to do your homework? Why are you laying down?”

“No.” You gulp at the words that are about to leave your lips. “I’m here… for you.” You hold your breath after you finish talking.

“What.”

“The wifi has been working fine for weeks. I’ve been coming here to spend time… with you.” You can’t imagine how Renjun was dense enough to believe that the wifi has been poor almost every night for the past 2 months, but you hope it has something to do with him liking spending time with you. You got tired of waiting for Renjun to pick up your hints and stopped waiting for the wifi to cut out in your room to join him in his-- it’s not like he would ever know if the wifi is actually being dodgy on your side of the apartment.

You’re still nervously waiting for Renjun to say something or to tease you and kick you out of his room and tell you to find a different place to stay and then you’re going to be homeless and then you’ll definitely never have good wifi and then…

Renjun sits up and you don’t let your eyes meet, instead pulling your hood over your head and tightening the strings to hide away from your indirect confession. Renjun untightens the strings and pulls the hood off of you; he looks like he’s about to laugh at you and it makes you nervous.

“You’re a fool. I was the one that was cutting out your wifi.” His words make you sit up straight. Your jaw unhinges as embarrassment floods you. You thought you were only going to confess your feelings tonight, not the fact that you’ve been sneakingly lying to Renjun to hang out with him every night.

Renjun starts laughing and in your flustered state, you pick up his forgotten drawing pad and hit him with it. Renjun only laughs harder at your reaction, clutching his shoulder. He’s partially laughing because of the dumb situation you got yourselves in, but also out of joy because you just confessed your feelings to him.

“You! Do you know how angry you made me? I couldn’t get any of my work done for weeks.” You yell. You’re sure the neighbors could probably hear your mixed voices, but you don’t care. “Why did you purposefully cut out the wifi?” You groan.

“Because I knew you would come to my room if I did.” Renjun confesses, leaning back on his bed with his hands. Your heart soars at his words; it’s what you’ve wanted him to say to you for so long. You raise the drawing pad to hit him again but he catches it, fingers covering yours as he stops your second attack. You let him pry the pad out of your hands and he drops it to a different corner of the bed.

“C’mere, dummy.”

“Who are you calling a dummy?”

“You. Now get over here so I can finally kiss you senseless.”

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svtntntn · 5 years ago

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breaking news

superhero!au x co-workers!au

inspo: superman and lois lane, the flash, supergirl, superheroes:)

a/n: this is the epitome of ‘why can’t I write shorter fics’ and ‘I take so long to write’

——

"Another day saved by Helios, the golden man with a plan! The city can rest easy knowing that Helios has put away yet another villainous creature threatening the safety of our blooming metropolis. And now, we bring you today's weather forecast!"

You glare at the wide-set monitor in the center of the office, the banner at the bottom proudly presenting the name 'HELIOS' in bold letters, the newscaster's smile beaming through the pixelated screen. "Soonyoung, can you change the channel? It's literally running the same news everyday."

"It might be the same news, but it's a different story everyday, (y/n). It's Helios! The golden man with a plan, the golden savior of our city, the man with the golden smile! Fighting crime every week, thwarting their plan and keeping the city safe as always."

"Tell me something I don't know Soonyoung," you roll your eyes at his blockbuster summary of the week by week.

"You're just like this because you're one of the few people who don't think Helios is handsome, don't you?" Soonyoung pouts. "And you of all people! You're the one always assigned the Helios stories, you get paid to stare at him and write about him." Soonyoung gumbles as you walk with him over to the conference room, "Maybe I'll take the lead on one today."

"Go ahead, be my guest." You supportively nod to him, thanking him for opening the door for you. The writer's room begins to fill with all of your office mates either standing or taking a seat around the oval table centered in the room, the chair at the very top of the table remaining open for your editor in chief.

Soonyoung nudges your arm as he sits next to you, grinning at Seokmin sitting across from you, "Hey Seokmin, you want the Helio story? (y/n) said it's up for grabs."

You peek up at him from your notepad, noticing the way he greets everyone incoming with his charming eye smile, his head bobbing to all the staff walking in before he tuning into you and Soonyoung. Just him sitting there in a simple button-up with his staff lanyard makes your heart flutter and swoon over your long-time crush.

"You don't want Helios?" He raises his eyebrows in concern as you immediately shake your head. "You're tired of him already? Helios' isn't your speed anymore?"

"I never said that," you defend yourself, "you know I don't assign the stories here."

"Well good thing I do." Your editor-in-chief strides in and the room falls into a hush as she seats herself at the high end of the table, commanding all the attention with a single look. "Morning everyone," Lee Sunmi's smile reaches all corners of the room as she opens her agenda and runs by department by department.

"So for this week's headlines… Seokmin and Soonyoung, you two are covering the downtown dance festival this weekend. Seulgi, the children's center's re-opening on Wednesday. Seungkwan, any major idol or entertainment news. (y/n), you're on Helios this week, and... Joohyun, look at any political changes or campaigns on the rise, election season is coming up and I heard there's new blood in the race." Sunmi directs her attention to other writers in the room as Soonyoung pouts at you. You merely shrug and write out the superhero's name on the top of your pad and underline it with a sigh.

Another week with the golden man with a plan.

You look up from your notepad and catch Seokmin's gaze, who immediately shifts his eyes to his paper when he realizes you caught him. You stifle a giggle and doodle his name on the margins with your pen, circling his name over and over again.

"Helios this, Helios that. I'm about to go insane thinking about him." Your head is in your hands as you're buried under the paperwork of your research, your eyes bleary from staring at word after word after word.

"Thinking about who?" Seungkwan asks with a cunning smirk, popping up by the wall of your office, "Is he who I think it is?"

"Who else do you think?" You deadpan to him, gesturing to your screen and showing the numerous open tabs about the city's one and only golden hero along with the papers on your desk. "I'm at loss of what else I'm supposed to write about. I'm assigned to him every week and I feel like I've covered every inch of Helios."

"Not every inch," Seungkwan winks at you.

You gasp and chuck your pen at him, "We are not a gossip column, Boo Seungkwan!"

"Hey, you're the only one I can get flustered about Helios, might as well have fun with it." He pulls up a desk chair next to you and looks over your notes. "What are you stuck on?"

You explain how looking back on all the Helios nonsense, you don't want to repeat yourself and mimic past articles and tabloids about the famed hero, so you've been combing through all the pieces you've ever written for something original to pen this week.

Seungkwan doesn't tear his eyes away from your work as he calls out loudly in the office, "Seokmin! Lee Seokmin!" The lack of actual office walls separating your desks call for a lack of privacy on the floor, meaning that everyone can definitely hear Seungkwan's voice reverberate throughout the halls.

"Seungkwan, what are you doing?" You try to hush him as fast as you can, everyone's eyes now on you and him.

"What is it Seungkwan?" Seokmin hustles over without breaking a sweat, surprised to see you with him. "Oh, hi (y/n)."

Your co-worker slowly rises from the chair and keeps intently studying your papers, "Mind helping (y/n) for a minute, I think she's stuck on Helios… I would help her but I wouldn't even know where to start. Wait, see… look at this article right there," Seungkwan pushes Seokmin into the desk chair and smiles at the scene before him, "Good luck you two."

"Well, that wasn't subtle at all." You note out loud, ignoring the way your heart speeds up in Seokmin's presence. "So, want to help me?"

"Of course," he starts perusing through the same articles from before, reading over them and switching between your past works.

"Why not write about his armor or the extent of his strength?" Seokmin writes on your notepad, "Helios’ armor is composed of an otherworldly material that not only retains the same strength and opacity as regular metal sheets used in bulletproof vests, but is blended with breathable material and alloy to make it tailored to him specifically and his abilities. They're able to withstand the heat and cold as well as the earthly materials around us, and the everyday wear and tear." Seokmin rattles off, fondly smiling as you stare at him in awe.

"How do you know all that?"

Seokmin's pen falls out of his hand and as he bends down to pick it up, his head hits the underside of your desk, "F-from reports online! People make tons of theories and reports about Helios and I think someone who was rescued by him actually asked him and found out."

"I'll have to look into it, thanks Seokmin." You grin, starting a fresh document to begin your research.

"So, (y/n)..."

You can hear the wondering tone in his voice, but you don't look over from the computer screen. "Yes, Seokmin?" you say expectantly.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"

You're too busy proofreading your work to notice Seokmin nervously wringing his hands over and over, too focused to see him look up at Soonyoung and Seungkwan flashing him a thumbs up from across the pen. "Tomorrow night? Just planning to stay home, proofread and edit, eat leftover takeout, nothing special."

"Oh, well… would you want to get dinner with me? I'm sure I probably don't beat out the idea of leftover takeout, but I can try." He innocently beams at you.

"Okay, I wanna see you try." You muse with a flirtatious smile. Glancing at your watch, you note the time remaining till you're able to clock out of the office. "How about I meet you at 8?"

"Meet me at the diner on Fourth and West?"

The light atmosphere of the diner off Fourth and West brings a smile to your face, the casual restaurant known for its famed burgers and fries and milkshake combo making your mouth water.

Add in Lee Seokmin sitting across from you and it's a complete dream come true. "It's a date."

text message from seokmin

I'm about 10 mins away! See you soon!

Breaking News: Fire breaks out at Kim Technologies Headquarters in Downtown, please proceed with caution and evacuate Fourth Street

text message from sunmi (must answer at all times!!)

(y/n), find out what's going on!

Helios could be there!

text message from seokmin

Hey (y/n), sorry! I can't make it to dinner, Soonyoung needs me to get his car, it's stranded downtown and it's an emergency

Could we reschedule?

I'm sorry:(

The hands on the clock read half past ten as you wave goodnight to Joohyun and Seulgi, their figures disappearing out of the office as you lazily drop your head down in your hands. Your computer screen was opened to a draft of your newest story and yet it only had the main headline and your name at the top.

You blindly reach for your coffee mug and find it empty, your mind slowly throbbing from the lack of motivation and caffeine. You poke your head above your pen and see the entire office empty as well, stretching your limbs and groaning in pain loudly before yawning. You take your coffee cup and weave your way through the offices to the break room, stopping by a particular desk that's been empty the entire day and just so happened to belong to someone who may or may not have stood you up.

A tired sigh falls from your lips and you enter the break room in a huff, aggressively brewing a fresh pot of coffee. You're too into your thoughts as you pour yourself a fresh cup, when a loud knock erupting on the door and in surprise, you miss your mug and the brew spills over your hand and skirt, "Oh shi—"

"(y/n)! Oh, your hand!" Seokmin rushes over to you and takes the coffee pot from your hands, replacing it back into the brewer and taking a handful of paper towels for you. "Did I scare you? I didn't mean to, I just meant to surprise you, I thought you knew someone was here? What are you even doing here so late—wait, is your hand okay? Are you okay?"

The flurry of questions directed at you makes you chuckle when you notice his frantic smile trying to help you, "yes I'm okay. What are you doing here? Seungkwan told me you were sick."

"Oh, did he?" He coughs and clears his throat. "Yeah, my throat's been kinda sore… but Soonyoung had car issues again and he said he left his laptop here so I'm here to work on our piece from the dance festival." His hand rests over yours comfortingly as the heat and the pain subsides from your burned hand. "I'm sorry about our date. I didn't mean to cancel last minute, Soonyoung needed me to help him and—"

"It's fine…" You mumble quietly, trying to hide your disappointment. "I had to chase after Helios and the fire downtown, so it's okay… really."

There's a chill that travels from your fingertips and up your arm but it's gone the minute Seokmin removes his hand from yours, "Is your hand feeling any better?"

You cradle your hand and nod, "I can't say much for my clothes, though." The coffee is already seeping into your clothes as it stains the gray and white skirt and button-up you're wearing.

"I have some extra clothes at my desk if you want to borrow them? Unless you're planning to go home?"

The mind drifts to the unfinished draft on your computer, "Could I borrow? I'll wash them and return them to you tomorrow." You ramble, "I need to stay here to finish my draft for Sunmi, Helios' heroics just don't stop once I'm off the clock."

You notice a guilty look in Seokmin's eyes, but it's gone in a flash.

"Mind if I joined you? Writing, I mean. Sunmi's expecting a rough cut of it tomorrow too." Seokmin starts leaving the break room and you follow after him to his pen, where he pulls out a pair of gray sweats and an extra white button-up. "What? I'd give you my extra pants, but you'd have no belt for it."

"No it's perfect, thank you. I'll be right back." As you lock the restroom door, you take a moment and stare at your reflection in the mirror, looking at your flushed appearance and feeling the goosebumps along your arms.

Why did Seokmin have extra clothes at the office? It's not like he needed new clothes everyday to write.

But it was handy to have around, you thought to yourself as you buttoned his shirt together. The white button-up held the scent of fresh laundry and yet there was a hint of men's cologne lingering on, Seokmin's natural musk clinging on and making you blush at the idea of wearing his clothes.

You head back to your desk and find Seokmin already typing away at his laptop, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to find the right words to say. You circle around him and shove your ruined clothes into your purse, bringing yourself closer to your computer monitor, "Thank you again."

"No problem." He beams at you, "you look good in my clothes." There's a pause and you can't help but smile bashfully. "I-I mean.... uh, you just look good in everything, in general."

"Another late night, (y/n)?" Seungkwan asks as you cross your legs in your desk chair.

"Yeah, I need to write about Helios' newest adventure in not only single handedly halting the production of the city's new bullet train but causing its collapse as well." You sigh, remembering the amount of destruction and commotion at the press announcement of a sprinter train weaved around the existing city buildings designed to be faster than any functioning taxi or bus.

The reason behind Helios' good natured destruction was pure considering the existence of a series of bombs hidden in the tracks by a rogue ex-employee and yet where was Helios helping in the aftermath?

Sure, he managed to evacuate the area and save the city mayor and his family and the flock of reporters and news media covering the event, including yourself.

But in the concrete and debris and construction material askew everywhere in his wake, where was he?

"Helios' probably fighting off other bad guys or something. You know, dealing with them and the police or government or whoever." Soonyoung answers for you, standing behind Seungkwan with a shrug. "He has his own life as well."

Goddamn it, thinking out loud.

"It wouldn't hurt to help out the people he protects every once in a while, you know. Manual labor doesn't seem so difficult for a man of his strength." You scoff at his lack of consideration for others as Soonyoung and Seungkwan shake their heads. "We give him all this press and spotlight in the news and yet he doesn't want to get his hands dirty helping the public? Okay, sure yeah he saves the day, but c'mon."

"If you were a superhero, wouldn't saving the day take a lot out of you?" Soonyoung volleys back, his smile turning into a smirk when he notices a familiar face in the office, "Seokmin! Come over here! If you were Helios, wouldn't saving the day tire you out? You'd have to recharge your energy or battery or whatever you are—if you were Helios?"

Seokmin humors his best friends with a dubious chuckle, "Sure yeah, if I was Helios, I'd be too tired to do anything if I was busy saving the day." He notices your sour face at your response and looks at his best friends, "... but not too tired to be helping innocent people with my reckless actions? Right?"

"If you saw the destruction that Helios left in his wake, you'd understand." You mutter under your breath, knowing very well you and Joohyun were the only journalists from your paper to witness the catastrophe firsthand. "Being a hero doesn't just end with saving the day and locking up the villain. It’s dealing with the aftermath of it all—the good, the bad, the ugly."

"Right… well, hopefully you can tell Helios that, (y/n)." Soonyoung jokingly claps a hand on Seokmin's shoulder as he grins. "Good night, you two!"

You wave a good night to Seungkwan and Soonyoung as Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. "You're staying in another night?"

You hum a 'yes' as once again present the massive amount of papers and reports you have to transcribe for your article as he frowns at you. "I'll join you again, let me get my computer."

Seokmin sits by you once again as you both crank out drafts of your assignments, occasionally asking each other how your sentences sound and for words to use rather than the everyday, common tenses and verbiage. You hear your stomach growl and call for a lunch break between you two, the clocks almost hitting midnight as you take out your lunch bag.

He copies your actions with his own bag, taking out an array of containers within his small lunchbox. "What are you eating?" He hums in curiosity, leaning closer to you for a look at your food as your face immediately blushes at how close he gets.

You pull your container closer to your chest as you raise an eyebrow, "My food? Why do you wanna know?"

"In case I want to trade with you." He quips with a boyish smile.

You can't help but laugh at his innocence, "Are we in grade school? You wanna trade snacks with me?"

"Oh come on, (y/n). Live a little," he reaches over for a piece of your chicken but you hold your container out of reach from him, making him stretch over your body to fight over it. A surprised shriek escapes your lips as you shut one eye and hold your container as high as you can without it tipping out of the tray, actively trying to hold off Seokmin with your elbow.

You grin at your tactics as Seokmin's head comes close to your own, the smell of his hair filling your senses with fresh mint and the faint smell of concrete and debris. You falter for a moment as you stretch above, your mind traveling back to the scene of the ruined construction site from earlier that day but Seokmin simply reaches up and skewers a piece off your container and into his mouth, "mhmm, delicious!"

You come to your senses and shake out the coincidence as he mocks you, "Hey! If you take one of mine, then I have a right to yours," you quickly steal a bite of his food and consume it with a wink, playing up how good it is to him. "Mhmm, so good."

"You wanna switch?" Seokmin offers, holding up his plate to you. You reach for it but he pulls it further away from you with a smirk. "I'm kidding, here."

He switches your containers and takes a couple bites from your food as you do the same, both in content silence. The office is quiet save for the sounds outside the skyscraper, the honks of taxis and cars ringing from the ground and the changing of stop lights softly painting the office walls in different hues.

You're too caught up in daydreaming out the window when you realize Seokmin's been calling your name, "(y/n)?"

"Huh, yes?"

Your eyes lock on him and he lets out an apprehensive smile, "I want to take you out, like on a real date outside of the office. Properly, I mean."

"We were going to do that." You point out to him, taking a bite of his meal—technically, your plate—with a purse of your lips. Seokmin sulks in agreement and you decide to let up, "You actually promise to show up this time?"

"Hey, you told me too it was fine since you were chasing after Helios."

"Technically, you cancelled on me first." You wave off playfully, nudging your shoulder with his with a coy smile. "So yes or no on a redo date?"

"Hey I asked you first!" He cries out begrudgingly, "and you already know my answer."

text message from joohyun

good luck on your date today!

Breaking News: Bank Robbery commencing Downtown, please avoid First and West Avenue.

text message from sunmi (must answer at all times!!)

(y/n), get down to First and West

see what's happening

Breaking News: HELIOS intervening at Downtown Bank Robbery! Avoid First and West Ave for your safety!

text message from seungkwan

DID YOU HEAR THE NEWS?

I'm down by the barricade by First, come down here!

Breaking News: HELIOS rescues endangered hostages, safely apprehends the robbers, takes them into police custody

Breaking News: HELIOS promising to help restore Seoul City Bank, Seoul City's Train Transit and more! More news and information tonight at 9PM

"Isn't that the type of news you like to hear? Helios promising to help restore what's ruined in the city?" Joohyun notes, the broadcast of the golden hero streaming over and over again on the overhead monitors. The flash of the cameras ricochet off his shimmering armor and the mask that protects his identity, making him shine even more as the humble golden boy of the city.

"I'm surprised to see him taking such initiative, but it doesn't impress me. It's what he should have been doing in the first place." You snort, a sharp edge cutting through your voice as Joohyun studies you carefully.

She knew you were stressed following your private meeting with Sunmi and when you were stressed about work, it showed in your quiet demeanor—a clear 'don't talk to me' sign etched on your forehead after an evil glare.

But keeping your head down in busy work you could be passing to the interns?

Definitely not about work.

"So how did your date go?" You hesitate before carefully switching tasks and keeping your head lowered over your paper.

"It never happened, again." You mumble, marking your draft with your red pen.

"What? What do you mean it never happened?" Joohyun nearly spits out her tea and coughs when some of it catches in her throat.

"Seokmin never showed up," you uneasily shrug, picking up your papers and walking to the intern's conference room, passing your papers off to one of the many bored interns sitting about.

Joohyun eagerly trails after you with her eyebrows furrowed together, "What? What do you mean? Never showed up? How long were you waiting for?" You shake your head as you pass by Seulgi's pen and she turns around at the sight of you and Joohyun.

Seulgi pipes in, "Waiting for what?"

"(y/n) had a lunch date with Seokmin again yesterday, but he stood her up again." Joohyun sullenly quips to her as you speed walk faster away from prying ears and eyes. "(y/n)!"

"It doesn't matter how long I was waiting for." Joohyun gives you a pointed look that lasts for the longest minute till you cave in. "Fine… an hour… or two?" you pick at your nails nervously as Joohyun gasps in shock. "It's okay, I got a good meal out of it."

"Alone! You ate at a nice restaurant by yourself! Did he even send you a text he wasn't going to make it or anything?" You shake your head again as she sets her mug on your desk before scanning the floor, "I'm going to go talk to him, why would he stand you up? And for a second time? Who does he think he is?"

"It's fine, Joohyun!" You pull her arm to get her to back down, checking if Seokmin or Soonyoung or Seungkwan heard any of your conversation. "I can handle it, I'll talk to him. I'll talk to him and make it clear I won't continue to go through any of this."

You stand your ground and she accepts your statement, stalking off to her desk with a proud smile as you sigh and relax your solid form the moment you're out of her view. To say confrontation was your strong suit was an understatement, and the fact you were meant to confront Seokmin of all people made you want to avoid the situation as much as possible.

Speak of the devil, you groan as you notice him walk in from the elevators, his chivalrous demeanor making your heart swoon and his golden smile making you melt in despair, nearly overlooking that fact he was late to work. You quickly duck behind the walls of your cubicle before he can notice you but you can already hear footsteps approaching your desk.

"Um, hey (y/n)." He gently knocks on the wall of your office, meekly clearing his throat, "do you have a moment? I wanted to talk to you about—"

"I actually have to help the interns with something right now, but let's talk later, yeah? See you!" The lie is believable had you not just gone to the intern's office moments ago, but you excuse yourself anyways, not wanting to break your heart and Seokmin's at the same time.

"Sunmi, I'm at the building right now and there is no one here. The tip's probably some kind of teenager looking for a quick buck, a claim to fame for his social media." You roam the empty building and you can't help the chills that crawl up your arms. The wind howls through the unfinished architecture, the unfamiliar sounds making you look over your shoulder every other second.

The deserted hub for the halted bullet train was the perfect place to stage something—a drug hand-off, shady business deals, gang shoot-outs, rival matches—anything and everything goes here and that thought wouldn't leave your mind.

Especially considering the catastrophe that just happened that shut down construction there indefinitely? It was bound to be crawling with bad seeds lurking in the shadows.

She insists, "No (y/n), I know who gave us the tip, it's reliable. Trust me."

Trusting Sunmi was easy, but trusting the person who tipped off Sunmi? Never.

"Who told you?" You ask, "Wouldn't they tell the police about this if it involves drug trafficking? Or the local police if this was gang violence? Or wait—does this have to do with Helios?" You hear hesitation on the phone. "Sunmi, why didn't you tell me?"

"(y/n), it doesn't concern you. You know any and all tips are anonymous."

"Yes it does if it's about Helios!" You yell into the mouth of your phone, getting frustrated about being kept in the dark. "Sunmi, you could at least give me a hint, please. They could help me with—hello?"

Your pleading goes on deaf ears as Sunmi hangs up on you and you squint through the darkness with the careful use of your phone light. Voices whisper and shout just around the empty shells of the bullet trains, the cars stationed at Gate 1 of the supposed transit.

You position yourself behind a stack of abandoned construction equipment as you hear someone run out of the train's car, this footsteps heavy against the rocky earth as they shout into a radio. When the coast is clear, you rise from your hiding spot and quickly make your way to the inside of the car, finding a large machine beeping in the center of the car.

The timer on the machine counts down as you realize what exactly the machine is, dialing the number for the police on your phone, "Hello? I'm at the Seoul City Train Station—yes the abandoned one! There's a bomb counting down in one of the train cars, what should I—oh, um—there's ten minutes counting on this."

"Y-you're right, I will leave the premises as fast as I can." You calmly hang up the phone and back out of the train car, briskly running to where you entered but finding it completely blocked. "What the…?"

You begin shouting as loud as you can, sprinting all over the building for some way to get out of the station, but the only open section you can see are the unfinished train tracks leading outside of the hub and into the city—or into part of the city.

You start running down the tracks but it gets more and more narrow as you go along, your feet nearly slipping on the raised platform built high in the air. The metal rods end and you frantically look behind you, waiting for the building to erupt into flames, into something—when you lose your footing.

You can feel the wind rush past you and your heart drops, your eyes closing on instinct and bracing for whatever's to come till you hear a voice,"(y/n)!"

You brace for the impact of meeting the solid ground, but there's nothing.

No hard surface against your back, no painful slam into the concrete. You open your eyes slowly and find you're hovering in mid-air, your body flying above the ground and in the hold of a man in golden armor.

His eyes are covered by a matching golden mask and he breathes a sigh of relief, "Oh thank God, you're—"

Chills run up your neck and you cut him off as fear sets into your system, the feeling of floating mid-air making you extremely scared. You start scrambling to hold on to any part of the superhero for purchase, "Oh my god! Put me down! P-put me down!" You wrap your arms around his neck and shut your eyes again, the feeling of descending down to the ground fluttering about you.

You're pushing yourself off of the hero and onto the solid ground the moment he lands on the rooftop of the building, your hands pressing into solid, firm muscle as well. "O-ow! You're safe, you're safe, I promise!"

All the blood rushes to your face as you realize who the very person who saved you is, "Y-you're Helios." You stare at him in shock as he winces from your punches.

"Yes, that's me." He stands up straighter than before and clears his throat, his voice becoming deeper, "I'm Helios."

"What—how did you?" Your mind is spinning as you point back to the train station's main hub, "You knew I was there?"

"Of course, I always have a feeling when someone is in danger." Helios bravely nods, "especially beautiful women like yourself." You snort once you hear the compliment, a laugh bubbling up from your stomach before you suppress your laughter, "What's your name?"

"I'm (y/n)," you can't explain it, but you feel shy when he asks for your name, goosebumps arising when he repeats your name for the first time.

"Wait, aren't you that reporter from the Chronicles? You write about me, don't you?" He tilts his head and the moonlight reflects off his eye mask, specs of gold and white twinkling alongside his dark eyes.

"I-I do, actually yes. You know who I am?"

He shrugs, "It's only right to remember the name of the person writing about me in the paper—good or bad, I remember every name."

"Oh, well. Is it good or bad? Or both?"

Helios smiles, "Good, of course. You're a skilled writer, and you should believe that." He notices a leaf in your windblown hair and picks it out for you, "So what were you doing down at the Train Station? I can't imagine you're the one blowing it up."

"I was following a lead on something, but I think I found it—or him."

"You shouldn't be risking your life just to see me, that's pretty reckless of you."

You almost laugh in his face, "Oh don't kid yourself, I was at the original press conference of the train station that you evacuated and subsequently ruined and my boss heard something might have been going on there, so I went and investigated it myself. Finding you was just a bonus."

A little white lie didn't hurt in the presence of the almighty hero of the city, even if his strong sense of justice was equal to his handsomeness.

"This might be too much to ask, but can I see you again?"

He turns his back on you, levitating off the rooftop. "I don't do interviews, sorry."

Your eyes narrow at his back, running to the end of the rooftop, "But you're willing to get in front of the press to declare you're fixing the city? Restoring what's broken in the wake of your destruction?" He continues higher and higher till you shout at him, "Why? Why go through all that trouble of restoring everything when you could just do nothing!"

Helios stops and appears in front of you in the blink of an eye, his face obscenely close to yours, "Someone told me that being a hero doesn't stop with just defeating the bad guy, it's about dealing with the aftermath—the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. And if it includes getting on the good side of beautiful reporters like yourself, it's not so bad after all."

He winks at you and off he goes into the night, his armor shimmering in the dense, yellow moonlight as you stare at him going farther and farther.

"Who are you exactly?"

"Of all people! I thought meeting an actual superhero in person would change your perspective about them." Seokmin notes to you as he helps carry archived prints onto the dusty desk at the end of the hall. "I mean, Helios actually saved you—and you still think he's the bad guy?"

"Okay, fine. He's not a bad guy, but a chance encounter with him doesn't change anything," you mutter as you filter through the archived prints in the building's basement with a groan. You'd be doing this task with anyone but Seokmin but given your obvious avoidance of him and Joohyun making sure Seulgi, Soonyoung and Seungkwan did not volunteer to help you downstairs in the archives, here you were.

Stuck with him, aka your crush—or your not-crush considering he did stand you up multiple times despite showing clear interest in you.

If he really was your not-crush, then why was your heart beating so fast around him still?

"But ever since the whole 'getting saved by Helios' happened, there's one thing that I can't stop thinking about."

"What? Is it the fact that you met him in person? That he likes your articles? That he's as handsome as everyone says?" Seokmin chuckles, fast forwarding through the news station's footage of Helios' past fights.

You look up from the prints and smack Seokmin's shoulder, "Stop right there! That frame right there." The video pauses and once again Helios' face is covered, the camera's focus blurred by his arm rising to protect himself from a villain's punch. "Nevermind—and no."

"So he is handsome?"

"Yes—no wait, can we put that aside for a moment? Right before Helios saved me, right when the station blew up, I heard someone shout my name before Helios saved me." You start carefully. "No one else was in the building or around but me… I mean, I was on the phone with Sunmi but she hung up on me before Helios even was there."

"Maybe it was Helios who said your name." Seokmin hypothesizes, his shoulders rising in curiosity.

"But if it was him, how did he know my name? I only told him my name after he saved me, not before." You breathe out, the cacophony of the news broadcasts drowning out your thinking. "I mean, I don't think I know who he is… but talking to him… it felt like I knew him, like I've talked to him before."

"As crazy as that sounds," you shake your head, hearing yourself already sounding crazy.

"It's not." Seokmin turns to you, a twinkle in his eyes as his eyes lock on yours. You swear in the moment his eyes dart down to your lips and back up but he clears his throat, "I-I mean, having covered him for so long, maybe it feels like he's an old friend."

You nod and continue looking through the prints, trying to find the original articles of when Helios first came about.

"You know, I can't help but think why does Sunmi want me to cover the Helios stories all the time?" You wonder, "I don't even like covering him, even if it gets me a front page column."

"Because," Seokmin starts off with certainty, "she knows you're the best writer here and she wants someone doing Helios justice on the press."

"I am not the best writer here," you deny earnestly, running a hand through your hair tiredly. You sit on the desk next to him and rewind the footage to play back the scene of Helios' fight, watching the way he moves with ease around the villain.

"Yeah you are," he volleys back, taking the controller out of your hand and pausing it. "You write honestly, you write the facts without being too dry, you write with emotion without over exaggerating it all." Seokmin hesitates, "you know the gravity of your words and you're not careless about it."

You wordlessly nod, unsure how to respond to such a compliment as you throw your hands up, "If I'm so great, then why can't my brain work right now?"

"You just need a break from staring at the screen." He sets the remote aside and takes your hand in his, "Come with me."

Seokmin leads you through the rows of the archived material, entering a hallway leading to the personal archives organized by every journalist ever employed under the Chronicles. He stops in front of his personal cabinet, tugging it open and meticulously threading through his past works till he pulls a stack of papers from the very back, all brought together with a heavy duty clip.

"Do you remember the entertainment scandal that broke last year but was swept under the rugs by the heads of those companies? Involving women and those nightclubs?"

"Of course, I remember. Sunmi assigned that whole expose to me."

"Well, I wanted to work on it as well, but she told me no." He holds out the stack to you, "So instead I wrote this whole piece on it anyways."

"You wrote this?"

"Oh yeah," Seokmin nods as you peruse the unpublished first draft, "I was going to submit it to Sunmi but since she assigned the expose piece to you, there wasn't much I could do." You remember the headline articles you penned that week, the week where you literally went four days with no sleep to finish the damn thing. "But I didn't let that stop me from writing, I didn't let that get to my head that she chose you over me, so I saved it all and rewrote this whole thing at the start of this year and I'm happy with my progress."

He pulls out another set of papers, thicker than the previous one and cleaner with only several red marks marring the pages. "Looking back, I think I would have butchered that piece if Sunmi gave me the opportunity to write it instead of you. Everything happens for a reason, and it's brought us here." He gestures all around you, "I mean, not to the dark basements of the archives, but to where you shine doing what you love, what you're good at."

"You shouldn't doubt what you write because it's going to be good regardless of what you think. You're amazing, (y/n). Don't doubt that."

Your eyes travel all over the papers and back to him, his eyes locked on yours as you stand speechless before him, "Seokmin, I—"

You decide to take the plunge and cross the empty space to stand directly in front of Seokmin, tugging him by the collar and pressing your lips to his. Disbelief sets into him, his eyes going wide but slowly closing and melting into you as his hands wrap around you.

You're the first to pull away from the kiss, your eyes still closed and heart racing a thousand beats per minute as you realize what you just did. "I-I—uh, I don't know what came over me."

"(y/n)..."

He's about to pull you in for another kiss, and you can't help but feel a familiar chill in his arms as your hands rest on his chest, his heartbeat racing in under your palms till the ringer of someone's phone goes off—interrupting the bubble between you too.

Seokmin's hands immediately go to his phone and he grits his teeth, "I'm sorry (y/n), but I need to go."

The dire tone in his voice makes you worry, "What? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, uh. It's… something." He taps out a quick text before rushing out of the room, leaving you in a flustered mess. "I have it under control, I just have to leave right now. I'm sorry."

Without another word, Seokmin's gone in the blink of an eye and your hand balls into a fist at the situation in front of you. The ringer of your phone goes off this time and it's another text from Sunmi.

text message from sunmi (must answer at all times!!)

(y/n), there's a villain loose from the Seoul City Jail and witnesses say he's looking for Helios

Keep your distance and get the story

He's by the Seoul City River

You glare at your phone, "Why are you literally ruining everything?"

"Sunmi, can I talk to you for a moment?" You knock on the panel of her door and she naturally waves you into her office, placing down the newspaper and shifting her complete attention to you.

"Yes?"

You take in a deep breath before asking your question, "Why am I always assigned Helios?" Your voice is rushed and hurried which makes Sunmi make you repeat it again before she raises an eyebrow.

"That's what… you came to talk about?" She deadpans sternly.

"I know there's plenty of people who can write about Helios and yet, every week you assign him to me. As much I thank you for the opportunity to cover him, I don't believe I'm the best person for the job. At all." You nervously twist the papers in your hands behind your back. "If Seokmin is all-knowing of Helios and his every move—why doesn't he cover Helios?"

"Because you’re the better writer," Sunmi answers for you, her gaze shifting to her glowing tablet. "Seokmin’s good, but you’re better."

"That’s complete BS," you argue back, slapping down printed papers with Seokmin's name at the bottom. "I’ve read Seokmin’s work, it’s frontpage quality! I read his reworked piece on last year's entertainment scandal, the big one involving those idols and those nightclubs? He didn't want to submit it to you but it's good! His writing shouldn’t be page two or three or five—he deserves the front page, he deserves the Helios stories."

"It doesn't concern you, (y/n)."

"Yes it does, considering I'm the one who's following Helios every month, every week, every day!" You yell back, contempt in your voice.

Your boss stands up and purses her lips, "I’ve already offered it to him—countless times," Sunmi reveals off-handedly, "and everytime I try to give him the story, he declines and passes it to you."

You're completely caught off-guard as you try to process what she just said, "H-he what?"

"And when I tried to assign him Helios for the—I don't know—millionth time, he threatened to stop the tips about Helios and to quit and work for the Metro. I can't have one of my top ranking writers work for the Metro." She shakes her head as she stalks over to you, leaning against the corner of her desk.

You try to piece the story together slowly, "What, why would he do that? Why pass it to me of all people?"

"He never told me." She muddles her tea in her hands before setting it back down. "I thought he was doing it to get into your good graces, because word around the office is that you and him are…?" Sunmi singles out her two index fingers and puts them side by side, hinting as to if you and Seokmin are a couple.

"O-oh no no no!" You shake your head, "Him and I—nope, we're not a thing, I mean… He asked me out a couple of times, but he's stood me up those times—but we stay late at the offices from time to time and eat together and—"

"(y/n), I adore you, but you need to take a major hint." Sunmi chuckles, rolling her eyes at the young love in front of her. "You two aren't the only ones to stay behind working hours."

Your mouth is gaping at the situation in front of you, your hands getting unnecessarily clammy and sweaty. "Fraternization in terms of workplace relationships in the office is not frowned upon if you two do decide to pursue that, just please keep it professional during business hours." She sits back at her desk and gives you a small smile. "If you don't have any other questions, you're free to go."

You enter the main floor and walk over to your desk, throwing Seokmin's article on the counter and releasing a tired sigh up into the air. Your hands go to your hips as you watch the widescreen television monitor run the story of Helios saving the day, spotlighting his built figure in the sky.

You glare at him, "Why are you always making everything so confusing?"

Your morning could not be going any better. Nearly everything and everything was going wrong or malfunctioning on you and with the entire office stressed about the Metro opening up their new headquarters across the plaza, everyone was running around like headless chickens.

And to make things even worse, the one person you wanted to talk to was out of the office the entire day, citing emergency after emergency to Sunmi and clearly avoiding your texts and calls.

If anything, you're more confused now than ever and the only person who seems to be making any sense is the one person you're writing about twenty-four/seven: Helios.

His plan to transform the city for the better had you following him around all day, watching him help the youth and the elderly as well as aid the construction workers in rebuilding the train station and other buildings he damaged during his past fights. Women, men and children alike were all enamored by kindness and were incredibly flustered over his perfectly white smile and charming manners.

You sit at your desk watching the footage from Helios' foray into the city's park, helping grow patches of trees and flowers by flying through the air and spreading them through the park.

"How long have you been watching that footage?" Joohyun chimes in from above you, her head perched on her hands on the top of the office walls. "Watch out Seokmin, I think Helios has taken your heart now."

"Oh shut up." You groan, pausing the clip. "He has not taken my heart, just… seeing him actually keep his word to make the city better has made me see him in a whole new light. That's it."

"A man of his word," she wistfully remarks, "I wonder where they come from."

"Not from here." You mutter under breath as you notice Seokmin walking your way. You minimize Helios' video and pull up your draft for this week, pretending to type a sentence or two till you hear a certain someone clear his throat.

"Hi Joohyun, (y/n)." He greets you both with a smile before turning to you, "Would you have a moment, (y/n)? To talk?"

You silently nod and march over to the break room in front of Seokmin, asking the interns tiredly sitting about to give you two the room as you chew on your bottom lip. You take in Seokmin's entire demeanor, noticing the way he looks unusually fatigued, like he had been up all day and night with no sleep, how he yawns as if it was past midnight and not eight in the morning.

"(y/n), I—"

The minute the door shuts, you run your hands through your hair frustratedly, "So now you want to talk?"

"Seokmin, what is there to talk about? I don't understand you, you're helping me with my research and flirting with me and acting all interested in me one day and then you're standing me up on our dates with flimsy excuses, and I'm tired of it! If you just want to be friends, then I understand. You don't have to keep leading me on and playing with my feelings like this."

"And another thing… why?"

He genuinely looks confused and you elaborate on your initial question. "Why pass Helios to me? All the opportunities to write about him—you said it yourself that your writing has grown since you first came to the Chronicles and yet you tell Sunmi to give Helios to me every time."

Seokmin bites his lips nervously, "Don't pretend, I know it's you who tips off Sunmi about Helios in the first place, too. I know she's tried giving you this assignment week after week and you keep saying no."

You can't help the tears that start to well up in your eyes as he stands there in tense silence, "On top of that, you know way more about Helios than I do, so why skip out on this big opportunity? You could even find out who he is or whatnot!"

"And you better not give me some excuse that I write better than you because that's not true."

The air is heated and quiet between you too as you stare at him, trying to figure out what Seokmin's playing at, but he doesn't attempt to open his mouth at all. His eyes are cast down, obviously avoiding your gaze.

Seokmin looks guilty but you can't quite figure out why, "I-I can't tell you, (y/n). You have to trust me when I say that it's better if you don't know."

You remark sadly, "How can I even trust you if you don't even keep your word?"

Seokmin opens his mouth as if to say something but nothing comes out, prompting you to start walking out of the break room, "(y/n), please. You have to believe me."

"I don't know what to believe anymore with you."

Days pass since your confrontation with Seokmin and since then, it's been quieter to say the least. You notice that he doesn't sit across from you during morning meetings, preferring to come in last and stand in the back next to Seungkwan. He keeps his eyes cast down around you, only briefly making eye contact with you before directing his attention elsewhere or excusing himself from the situation.

You've tried to not let it affect you but knowing you're somewhat the cause of the entire situation starts a pang of guilt in your chest.

"(y/n)! Are you leaving the office anytime soon?" Seungkwan knocks on the wall of your pen, rocking on the balls of his feet as he waits for your answer.

"No, I'm staying behind again." You focus on your laptop screen again, wiping the tired fog out of your eyes. "Should Helios' good deeds go unnoticed by the Chronicles, I don't think I'll hear the end of it from Sunmi, so I'm staying behind to categorize them for the article… are you done for the night?"

"Mhmm, Seokmin and I finished our piece on the Kim Technologies' charity gala earlier today so I'm heading out early." Seungkwan yawns tiredly as you nod in acknowledgement, a lost look in your eyes that he instantly recognizes. "But what about Seokmin you ask?" Your co-worker smirks but blinks any trace of deviance away. "He might still be around tonight, but why? You're finally going to talk to him after nearly a week of avoiding him?"

"He's the one avoiding me." You angrily mutter, your face feeling hot at the true accusation. "He can talk to me when he wants to reveal his dirty little secret."

You notice Soonyoung's eyes go wide and he gulps timidly, coming closer to your desk, "(y/n)... do you know… about Seokmin?"

"Do I know what about Seokmin?" You carefully repeat, watching his features contort in awareness of what you just repeated. "He's hiding something, isn't he?"

"No no no! Nothing, it's nothing! I thought you knew that Seokmin… uh, that his… birthday is coming up! And we're planning a party for him!"

"Wasn't his birthday in February? It's almost September." You reason, looking at the paper calendar on your desk and flipping through to months before.

"Oh would you look at the time!" Seungkwan glances at the imaginary clock on his wrist and starts rushing towards the elevator doors. "Good night, (y/n)!"

You shake your head in dismay as you watch him exit the building, turning back to your reports throughout the week of Helios' grandiose gestures to restore the city. The clips posted by innocent bystanders all over the city becomes a blackhole of you watching nothing but videos of the handsome hero soaring through the air and helping those in need. The next video that plays is new to you, the title reading 'WHO IS HELIOS? AN IN-DEPTH ANALYSIS!' in bold, black writing and a cutout photo of Helios grinning as the preview clip.

The video launches into a full scale investigation of who or what Helios' real identity could be, seeing as he physically appeared human—flesh and all—but retained superhuman powers and abilities. Sketchy videos with the quality of a cell phone were interlaced into the short film's evidence, zooming in on the superhero's face during battles and measuring his height and build in comparison to the people and buildings around him.

A deeper analysis appeared in the form of your posted articles from the Chronicle and from other tabloids that reported Helios-centric 'discoveries' and 'theories,' the creator mentioning how Helios' true identity must have been employed within media or the press as they've never explicitly covered who he could be under the mask as well as keeping a tight lid on information on the inside.

You found yourself glued to the analysis, playing along into the madness and thinking of who the culprit could be.

It had to be someone with access to people and places all over the city and working for the press, or under a major newspaper corporation, did just that. Not only did that help with getting around, but the media was always guaranteed a spot at major public events that common villains did target.

And there were few men who did fit Helios' proposed height and build in the industry, but did they fit his moral compass of good over evil? Did they have his boyish charm and strong sense of justice as much as Helios did? Did they change their point of view and own up to their mistakes in light of noticing their own faults? Did they match his bright smile and heavenly voice? Did they give you chills everytime he held you in his arms? Did they live selflessly and humbly in the spotlight despite the number of critics and bashers—as you were before—examining his every move and choice?

There was only one person to come to mind that fit your description perfectly: Lee Seok—

You're woken from your daydreaming as your phone rings loudly, a slew of incoming texts from the one and only Lee Sunmi.

text from sunmi (must answer at all times!!)

(y/n), this is an emergency

I need you to go to the rooftop of our building ASAP

No questions asked

You quickly rise from your desk and shove on your jacket, rushing through the empty offices to the elevator doors, nearly jamming the button to the rooftop stuck as time shifts forward a minute.

The stairs to the roof are slippery from the lack of use, save for the occasional times you know Sunmi goes to be picked up from her personal helicopter, which is rare in itself. There's a brisk wind that surrounds you, your breath evident in the cold temperatures as you reach for your phone to text Sunmi.

text to sunmi (must answer at all times!!)

I'm on the rooftop, what is it?

text from sunmi (must answer at all times!!)

No questions asked, remember?

Stay there and do not leave

You shove your phone back into your pocket and start walking around the rooftop, goosebumps creeping on your skin through your jacket as you notice a faint figure standing by the ledge of the rooftop.

The closer you get, the more the figure looks more familiar to you, your lips pursing together when you realize who it is, you turn on your heel to walk away but you remember Sunmi's instructions.

"Seokmin? What are you doing here on the roof? I thought you left hours ago."

You can see he's somewhat nervous as he sits on the edge of the building, pulling out a bouquet of flowers for you when you step close to him, "(y/n)—I-I, uh, there's something important I need to tell you, and I don't know exactly how to tell you. But you shouldn't hear it from me."

"What are you talking about?" You look at him confusedly. "What's going on now?"

"I'll be right back." Seokmin stands up and casually falls off the edge of the building and you scream, immediately rushing to the ledge and peering down below but the darkness doesn't give you much to see. A gust of wind shoots by in front of you and you pull your eyes away, shielding your vision with your hands till the wind settles. Again, there's nothing on the side of the building as you look left and right until you hear a cough behind you.

And there he is.

Lee Seokmin casually defying gravity before your very eyes as he lands on the tarmac with a soft step. "Surprise?"

"What the—Lee Seokmin! I hate you!" You smack his arm repeatedly in shock with the flowers he gave you minutes before, the flowers' petals falling to the floor in waves. "You're not allowed to scare me like that!"

"Sorry! I didn't think it through!"

You groan again and shake your head, "So that was you telling me you’re Helios? By falling off the roof of a skyscraper and giving me a heart attack?"

Seokmin winces from how bad it sounds when said aloud and instantly agrees, "Ok ok, it could have been explained better."

"Oh you think?" You hit him again with the bouquet and now when you look at it, the flowers are in shambles, desolate-looking with half-full petals. You sit down on the inner ledge of the rooftop as you pout at him.

He looks incredibly remorseful, "(y/n), I'm sorry. I-I should have explained it to you better and I know you're in shock from finding out—"

"In shock from finding out?" You shout in disbelief. "I already figured out you were Helios!" Seokmin sputters out incoherent babble as you grin madly, "all the clues were right in front of me: working with the press and always having the inside scoop, having extra clothes in the office, your knowledge and tips to Sunmi about Helios, your hair smelling like the aftermath of construction site, leaving when Helios is needed—even if it's all in bad timing. It's always been you."

"You're not shocked? Or mad?"

"I mean, I won't lie… I was mad at you before, but now I understand why you do what you choose to do. I can't be mad at someone choosing to save hundreds of people over spending dinner with me. I get it, I'm a bit of handful," you chuckle humorously to lighten the mood. You bite your lip, "I'm sorry for what I said before—about Helios, to Helios, to you. I can't imagine the chaotic double life you must live in order to keep your job as a boring city journalist and a superhero protecting all that is good."

"Hey," Seokmin nudges your arm as he plops down next to you, pollen and flower stains streaking his white shirt. "Being a city journalist isn't boring. It's the highlight of my day."

You scoff at the sentiment, "What? Typing and editing reports and interviews verbatim really do it for you?"

"No, but seeing you does." He winks, but he becomes flustered when he realizes the tail end of your sentence, "I mean—you make my day! Seeing you is the highlight of my day! God, this was way easier behind my mask."

"Don't worry, Helios. You still got it." You stand up with the bewildered bouquet of flowers in your arms, offering Seokmin your hand, "But you could make it up to me with dinner? I have a bountiful amount of food packed in my lunch bag."

His warm hand in yours sends a jolt of lightning up your arm, his smile making you melt on the inside, "I would love to—"

Suddenly, a phone chimes and rings with one text after the other, Seokmin's phone constantly vibrating with messages.

text message from soonyoung, seungkwan (group chat)

SEOKMIN! there's a break-in at the seoul city museum! cameras and wires were tripped 2 minutes ago [soonyoung]

the robbers look to be professional, carrying all sorts of gear and disabling the systems [soonyoung]

are you done making up with (y/n)?? I know you asked sunmi to help you talk to her, but she still seemed pretty mad at you when I left the office [seungkwan]

did you get her flowers like I told you so LOL [soonyoung]

yes he got her flowers, he chose the first bouquet HA [seungkwan]

I liked the second one better:(( [soonyoung]

HELLO SEOKMIN?? THE BREAK-IN [soonyoung]

Seokmin shakes his head and shoves his phone back into his pocket, his lips pulling into a regretful frown, "Uh, duty calls?"

"Fine, go." You nod in understanding, basically shooing him off the tarmac, "Be safe."

"Always." He kisses the back of your hand before running off the roof and diving into the night, shooting up from the shallows in his gold armor and threading his way around the city like a shooting star.

You hug yourself for warmth as you inhale the brisk city air, not a single shred of doubt in your system that he would return safely, knowing that full well that Seokmin was a man of his word, forever and always.

#Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #seokmin scenarios #lee seokmin scenarios #lee seokmin imagines #seokmin au #seokmin fluff #dk scenarios #my work

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #408

“tied to the rat race / a big bird in a small cage”

Who, whether a person or company, emails you the most? I really don't check my email enough to even know. If you were given an assignment to draw anything besides stick figures or just doodles, what would you draw? A meerkat of course, ha ha. Do you play the games on MySpace/Facebook? I never did. Well no, I did play "Dragons of Atlantis" when Facebook bought it or whatever, but now that it's a mobile game, I don't play anything on there. When was the last time you were sunburnt? Ha, actually now. It's from riding an hour to and an hour back from the TMS office every weekday; the sun coming in through the window got my arm. Who all do you live with? My mom and my two pets. Has a guy ever let you wear his jacket? Yeah. It was so comforting when Jason gave me his leather jacket to wear if I was cold; it was pretty big on me at that time and just really cozy. Thanks survey, now I feel like crying. :^) How many friends do you have of the opposite sex? Like, one. Do you have bird feeders hanging up outside? What about any hanging plants? No. Does your house have sliding glass doors? No. Was the last food item you ate part of a meal or a snack? A snack. What color is your hair brush? I don't use a brush, but a white comb. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy? I think I prefer sunny for the sake of helping keep my depression at bay, but sometimes I really do enjoy some nice steady rainfall at the window. Who’s the last person that you hugged, not family? I have no idea. What will your next piercing be? Probably getting my nostril re-pierced. How many people have you kissed, that you can HONESTLY say you loved? Two. Can you recall the last time you liked someone a lot? uhhhhhhhhhh now What’s scarier: spiders or worms? Worms gross me out, but a spider is more likely to actually scare me, but at the same time fascinate me. Do you play poker for real money? No. If you were pregnant, how long would you wait to tell the dad? I'd tell him immediately. Would you ever date out of your own race? I have in the past, and I would again. Do you still watch movies intended for children? Yeah. Hell, more than half the time they're better than "grown up" movies. What’s your favorite movie trilogy? Uhhhh does TLK count? ha ha What would you like to take lessons in? German. Whose Facebook password do you have? Just my own. Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school? No. Have you ever crawled through a window? Yes. Are you too forgiving? Yuuuup. Ever have a sleepover with the opposite sex? Well, we were dating. Have you ever gotten someone suspended? No. Have you ever wanted to be a teacher? No. Would you live with someone without marrying them? Yes; I believe you really probably should before getting married so you see if you "fit" as far as household habits and such go. Have you ever wanted to strip naked in front of someone? Yeah no. I'd feel way too awkward. What are you listening to? A John Wolfe video. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? My mom. Did anyone watch you the last time you kissed someone? I mean possibly, it was a public place, and some people are definitely caught off-guard by seeing two girls kiss. Do either of your parents have any tattoos or piercings? No. Mom wants a tattoo, though, dedicated to all of us kids and her grandkids. Are you desperate for anyone’s approval, in particular? -_- Would you ever stalk a celebrity? Um, no???? You don't stalk ANYBODY. It's a violation of space, privacy, basic respect... Do you have any National Geographic magazines lying around? No. Have you ever been mistaken for the opposite gender? No. Do you use liquid foundation, mousse, or just powder? None. Have you ever picked out a song to listen to on a juke box? Maybe? I don't remember. Have you ever eaten 3 meals from 3 different fast food places in one day? Oh god, I hope not. I don't remember ever having done that. Have you ever ridden in a limo? No. I always wanted to as a kid. Have you ever tried to put a huge puzzle together? Yeah, I have. I used to like to do that with my mom especially. Ever wake up early on Saturdays to go garage sale shopping? Yes, actually. My family used to love to do that. Do you keep magazines by your toilet? No. Ya better just bring your phone. What did you last take a picture of with your camera? On my actual camera, a hydrangea bush. On the camera on my phone, I believe my cat. Are you proud of who you are? Not... really. If you were a waiter/waitress, would you make good tips? Nope. I'm too awkward and I would NEVER write the orders down quickly enough. I write so slow. What are the best kind of Girl Scout cookies? The chocolate and peanut butter ones. If you hit an animal while driving, would you stop to see if it was okay? Well I doubt it's okay, but I would absolutely stop to move it away from the road and sob my eyes out. I'd probably try to find some flowers to rest on it. What's your favorite kind of pasta? Spaghetti. Have you ever played computer solitaire for hours on end? I don't even know how to play solitaire. What's the dumbest thing you've heard of that supposedly causes cancer? Who the hell knows, everything does apparently. If you saw wet cement, would you place your handprint in it? No. Can you honestly tell the difference between DiGiorno and delivery pizza? Absolutely. Do you own a lava lamp? No, but I would looove one. What charity or cause would you donate $1,000 to if possible? Off the top of my head, the Trevor Project. I'd probably research before actually donating, though. What would you say is your greatest strength? I guess that I care a lot about people. What's one food that you find too disgusting to eat? Things like clams, es cargot, sashimi... just ew. What's something that will never bore you? Uhhhh good question. Pizza Hut or Domino's? Domino's, by a long shot. What's something that always, no matter what, makes you laugh? Stupid Vines, lol. Have you ever been in a canoe? No. How many vehicles does your family own? Just one, my mom's. Are you generally afraid of taking risks? Yes. Have you ever caught/swatted a fly in/with your hand? Ew, no. Would you ever dye your hair bubblegum pink? Yeah. What was the last thing to happen that you really weren't expecting? The woman whose wedding I shot TWO YEARS ago finally reaching out to me about buying some pictures. What does it mean when you start eating less? What does it mean when you start eating more? If I'm eating less, odds are I'm extremely serious about losing weight. If I'm eating more than usual, high odds are I'm depressed or bored. Or I'm on my period. What’s the strangest named pet you’ve ever had? Harry Potter, ha ha. He was a guinea pig. What are some defense mechanisms you find yourself using when in an argument with someone? I'm very likely to just metaphorically flee from it because I fear confrontation so much. Do you know if there is anyone who was once important to you that you will never talk to again, even though you could? If I have any say in it, I'm never talking to Colleen again. List the initials of every person you have ever kissed, from first kiss to most recent kiss. (Put “?”s in the place of initials you don’t know.) I'm not listing their last initial, but anyway: J, T, G, S. Does your face break out right before your period? Not "break out," no. I'll just get a pimple or two. What did you dream about last night? All I remember was that it focused on Jason and his late mother. I miss her so much. I hope so much that whatever exists beyond death, she found the peace she was so worthy of. Do you think the United States health care system needs reform? FUCK yes I do. Our health care system is a disgusting fucking nightmare. Who was the last person you cried over? Jason. My PTSD has been doing quite well, but I had an emotional episode recently nonetheless. Do you prefer ceiling fans or fans that stand up on the floor and you plug in? I use both, but I think my preference is ceiling ones. What would you do if your son was at home, crying all alone on the bedroom floor because he’s hungry, and the only way to feed him was to sleep with a man for a little bit of money? Hypothetically, if I had a child, if I'm totally honest, I probably would. I would hate it, but I'm not letting my child starve to death if I can do something about it. Why do you think evolution is true/false? Because there is substantial evidence for it and imo is the most logical theory we've thought up. Some things about it seem kinda far-fetched, but I still have faith in it. I trust scientists and the evolution we see firsthand, such as caterpillars to cocoons, tadpoles to frogs, etc. Who came through for you at a time when you really, really needed it? Colleen. She let me live with her when I was technically homeless. What turned out better than you thought? Good question. What object did you used to, or do you still, keep hidden? My drawings. I've flipped my shit when Mom's found them in the past, even though she went on and on about how "amazing" they were. I don't draw anything "bad" at all, but still, I don't like people seeing my creativity. Who can’t you figure out? My damn self. What are you hoping for? The most recent thing would be hoping Shonda buys a lot, if not all, the wedding photos I took. I desperately want to use the money along with what I have left from Christmas to buy Venus' terrarium and proper supplies all by myself. What’s the best physical object that you kept from a previous relationship? Idk, there's a few things. What is the most socially unacceptable thing that you have no problem with? Maybe women not shaving. Like I couldn't care less. What have you done that you surprised yourself by doing? *shrug* What used to be a secret about you? Hm. Anything that used to be a secret probably still is one. What is the most stalky thing you’ve ever done? Just Facebook digging, and that's not something I've done a lot off. What did you wind up liking that you didn’t want anything to do with at first? The only thing that comes to mind at the moment is something sexual, so let's not go into that. Who do you owe your life that you can never pay back? Mom and Jason have both saved me from what would've been suicide attempts.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''monkey tree'' by mother mother

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itzagothamcitysiren · 5 years ago

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Welcome to the Family

I’ve always struggled finding someone who I think would make a good Damian. I love the voice actor from the DCAU, and even the kid who did the voice in the Harley show lol, but live action wise I’ve never really settled on a kid I’d think would do a really good job. I’d love to know everyone’s own fan casting and who they would think would make a good Damian. :)

Mother’s Day pt.2

Damian couldn’t stop himself from watching the whole scene play out in front of him, cursing Drake as he knew that this was his plan all along. Drake wanted to rub it in his face no matter how hard he would deny it when Damian confronted him on it later. The bitter taste of the sweat was all Damian could taste as he slowly began to peel off his costume after a long and tiring night of patrolling Gotham City. His eyes darted from person to person, trying to keep the sudden annoyance down in the pit of his stomach.

His father stood off near the batcomputer, slowly getting ready to call it a night, overlooking some files. His father had his cowl off, the tiredness of a long night out in the city showing on his face. A little ways away stood his sister, politely excepting the water bottle Alfred was now handing out to each of them. He started to head towards the pair to retrieve his own but halted. Drake approached them, clearly hiding something behind his back, underneath his cape. He turned around, simmering but kept listening as Drake began to speak.

“Hey, staying the night?” Tim cleared his throat as he approached Halley, a hint of hopefulness reaching his voice.

The girl chugged her water bottle, capping it off with a sigh. The cold liquid felt good running down her throat. Placing the near empty bottle on a nearby desk she turned to give Tim her full attention. With a smile, she leaned up against the desk, her muscles sore. “Nah, I have to head to the library first thing tomorrow, finish up my term paper.”

“I can help you. Use the library here,” Tim frowned, offering his help. He hadn’t seen his sister as much as he’d like over the past few months. She’d been busy with her last year of college and the internship she started this year at the Gotham Gazette.

He did get to see her two weeks ago but that didn’t really count. He’d never gotten to meet the Robin before him, Jason Todd, but Halley spoke very fondly of him. They had grew extremely close he learned and she was absolutely devastated when the Joker killed him six years ago. And for the last couple of years, Tim would accompany with her to visit Jason’s grave on his death day because she could never bring herself to handle going alone.

“As much as I would love that, it’s actually a study date.” She bit her lip, looking at her feet.

“Wow, like a date, date?” Tim was taken aback, almost looking proud at the older girl. All the years he’s known her, she’s never been one for dating or having interest in anyone.

“Yeah, we’re going to go to this café; the one on fifth, the one you said had really good coffee muffins.” She nodded, still timid about the date itself. She hadn’t been on a date in six years. It felt weird, but Dick told her it was time to start moving on and Dick had never led her astray before so, she was going to try. Jason would want her to anyway, she kept telling herself.

“Well, I hope you have a good time. And actually get some work done.” Tim chuckled. “Well since I won’t see you in the morning and it’s technically the tenth right now, here you go,” Tim said, pulling out what was hidden behind his back.

Halley looked down at the items that were being outreached to her, her eyes already getting watery. Tim really didn’t understand how much this stuff meant to her. Glazing over the card, seeing it goofily decorated with glitter and cute little doodles, Halley couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. She thought it was adorable. Opening it up, she read what he wrote inside, chuckling more at the little stick figures of Nightshade and Red Robin. Inside it read: A mother is the person you can always call to see how long chicken can last in the fridge.

Shaking her head at him she moved to the other item he handed her. It was a medium sized box wrapped in wrapping paper with little cute cartoon pugs and an oversized purple bow. Putting the card in between her armpit, in order to not drop it, she tore the wrapping paper apart, letting out a squeal, causing everyone to look at her in shock; it took a lot to make the former assassin to squeal in pure giddiness.

Damian was now almost fuming as Halley lunged herself into Tim, nearly tripping the boy over in her excitement. Her grip on him was tight, as was her grasp on the gift she still held in her hand, as if holding onto it for dear life. She couldn’t believe he got her this,

“How did you get this? It sold out in seconds!” She pulled away, now hugging the object to her chest, “Tim you really didn’t have to do this, I totally didn’t realize the date, with school and-,”

“I knew how much you wanted it and were bummed when you had to go on that mission with the Titans when it went on sale and so I ordered it for you, so you didn’t miss out.” Tim cut off her rambling, shrugging her off. “I was going to give it to you for Christmas, but it didn’t come in on time so I saved it for this.”

“I can’t wait to show Steph!” She excitedly held it up to look at the smooth and shiny new box, revealing it to everyone in the room the newest Jeffree Star and Shane Dawson palate. “You’re literally the best Tim.” She pulled him into another hug, this time a quick one, no one noticing how Damian was now practically steaming. “What are you doing Wednesday? I’m only at the Gazette until like noon, we should hang out, go to the movies or arcade or something once you’re out of school. I’ll pick you up.”

“I promised I’d help the Titans with something, it’s not an emergency though-” Tim frowned, hesitating, he could try and reschedule.

“No, no it’s okay. I know you’ve missed them, being busy with school and all,” She waved off, scrunching up her nose. “We’ll figure it out, but soon, we gotta at least go get burgers or something. It’s been too long.”

Damian watched as Halley began to start saying her goodbye, realizing that it was nearly five am at this point and wanted to try to get at least three or four hours of sleep before she had to be up for her date. She called out a goodbye to Bruce and Alfred, shooting Tim another thank you and smile before heading to the showers to change and grab her bag to head to her apartment in the city. On her way out, Damian felt his cheeks turn red as she nicely wished him goodnight, smiling wider than she did to Tim. Feeling a strange pang in his chest, he brushed her off, muttering a grumpy ‘night, before curtly turning to head up to the Manor.

He was unamused by the exchange between her and Drake. He was only under the impression that he was giving her that immature card, not a gift as well. She looked so happy that it almost appeared that Drake was indeed the favorite brother, which absolutely could not possibly be true. He was the blood brother, he reminded himself. He couldn’t let Drake outshine him like that. It wasn’t even because he cared that much, it was just unacceptable. If it had been Grayson it might sit a little easier with Damian but Drake?

Damian thought about it until the sun shined through his windows, making him even angrier. Why was he letting this get to him as badly as it was? It was just a stupid card and a box of colorful dirt. But that stupid card and box of colorful dirt still stood in his mind for the following days, making it nearly impossible for him to concentrate on anything else. His father asked him what was wrong during patrol the following nights, only to get a growl here and a grunt there in response. If Damian had to see Drake’s smug look one more time during these moments, he’d finally kill him, his father be damned.

Damian couldn’t believe how much he let this get to him. He tried to deny it; blame it on hormones or whatever Grayson called the cause of his mood swings. He didn’t even begin to consider admitting he was jealous of his sister’s close relationships with his so called brothers until he found himself standing in front of the Gotham Gazette at 1:50pm. Gritting his teeth, he walked straight in. Once he reached the front desk, he said he was here to see his sister. He was a Wayne, they knew who he was and the woman nervously pointed him to the way to the office his sister worked in.

The look of worry and shock his sister wore as he stood in front of her desk confirmed that this had indeed been a terrible idea. She had been head deep in her computer, typing away furiously, while on the phone, barking out questions and demands; something about needing to have some interview with some councilman rescheduled ASAP. Damian was impressed as she spoke. He was used to her stern voice from working with her on missions but this was different, she seemed so professional but scary; he almost felt bad for whoever she was talking to on the phone, but also felt proud by the way she was demanding things like an al Ghul would.

She must have thought that he was someone else who knocked on her door for when she slammed the phone down, she didn’t even look up at him, just outreached her hand waiting to be passed something. She was expecting someone. She was busy. This was a terrible idea, Damian thought to himself in a slight panic. Was that sweat starting to form on his brow? Grow up Damian, he spat to himself.

When her hand stood empty she shook it aggressively as if silently saying to hand her something. Damian raised an eyebrow at her and when she was still left empty handed, she whipped her head up, clearly irritated. She was tired from another all-nighter. She couldn’t even consider going on patrol last night, which was something she never missed up until the last couple of months. She was itching to be done with school already.

She had to stay up all night trying to make a backup plan for her final article and paper. She was writing about the coming election, making a strong article highlighting the past Mayor’s and city officials. It was a puff piece, but a damn good one. She wanted it to be perfect so that way when she graduated in June she’d hopefully get to stay at the Gazette permanently. But at the same time, she was also just trying to use her connection with the paper to weasel her way into an interview with councilman, Rupert Thorne.

Her paper had been her obsession since starting it; she was exposing the corruption of city hall and it was at the point where her grade didn’t matter, she just wanted it to be done so she could publish it. Everyone knew that Gotham was corrupt, but no one really talked about, just complained about the crazy, dressed up weirdos that tormented the city at night. People like Scarecrow, Riddler and the Joker make people overlook villains who in her opinion where just as bad. For example, Rupert Thorne

He had his nose deep in too many illegal operations running out of Gotham that Halley and even Bruce lost count. He had the audacity to run for mayor this election season, as being a councilman wasn’t enough for someone like Thorne. If he won this, Gotham was more screwed then it already was. Without at least speaking with him once her entire paper and grade would be ruined. And she couldn’t exactly go as her alter ego and force him to talk to her. That would raise too many questions. She didn’t even care as she named dropped Bruce, making sure they knew that she was Halley Wayne; she was desperate.

When she saw Damian though all thoughts about Thorne left her mind and her face softened before scrunching up again with concern. Damian never visited her before a she had been pretty sure he forgot that she interned here a couple days out of the week. Stopping her work, she looked up at him, looking around the room as her co-workers eyed them curiously. “Damian, is everything okay? What happened?”

“Tt.” He crossed his arms.

“Damian, is everything okay?” She pressed, seeing that look in his eyes when he looked stressed or in trouble.

“Nothing is wrong, I-,” He paused. He hadn’t figured out what to say. He didn’t prepare for this. Gulping down his anxiety, he took the seat that was across from her desk. He could see the bags underneath her eyes and the untouched food sitting at the other end of the desk. He also noted how the clock said that it was now a couple minutes past two. “Didn’t you tell Drake you were done with work at noon?”

Halley blinked a few times, now knowing that there was no emergency but instead was just thrown off. What was he talking about? Looking down at the time on her laptop it clicked. Her conversation with Tim in the cave, about possibly hanging out today. Oh right, she remembered. Looking back up at her younger brother she gave him an unsure look, she didn’t understand why he was here.

“Um, yeah, well I don’t have a concept of time when I’m in here.” She lightly chuckled, trying to get a vibe on why he was here. Rubbing the black beanie on her head, itching her head awkwardly, “Most times the janitor has to kick me out.”

She looked at him when he just nodded at her, still not stating why he was sitting in front of her. She was surprised he remembered her conversation with Tim, she hadn’t thought he had been listening and it was like they were talking that loudly for him to be forced to overhear him. She had taken note of Tim texting her about how unbearable he’s been since last Sunday though. She bit the inside of her cheek, was Damian jealous? She laughed to herself, there was no way. But when she have him another look over she saw his green eyes staring at her messy desk with a slight pout on his face. Oh he was totally jealous of Tim, she thought.

She looked at her untouched lunch, having totally losing herself in her work and forgetting it even existed. She then felt her stomach growl, seeing how Damian noticed it as well, raising his eyebrow higher, if that was even possible. Quickly saving the document she was working on, she slowly closed her laptop, letting what she was about to do sink in. Trying to contain her smile, not wanting to scare him off before she could even begin, she cleared her throat.

“So do you like Burgers?”

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Embers - Male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Five! (sfw)

So... this was supposed to go up on Friday but no one reminded me and I’m clearly not able to set a weekly reminder like an actual adult.

Hope you’re still enjoying this weekly series... Don’t forget to show me it some love if you are.

And I seem to have thrown my 'short chapters/800 words only' thing out of the window. This one is the longest so far, at 2455 words long. *rolls eyes at self*.

One, Two, Three, Four

An entire week passed without word from Mikaeïl. You had almost given up on the whole commission for this departmental murder mystery dinner, when one lunchtime your phone buzzed and you answered with barely a glance away from what you were doing. With a searingly important deadline looming for work, your stress levels were possibly at their highest since university finals, and you had been staring at the computer screen for what felt like days without a break.

“Yeah?” you barked, still tweaking the design while holding the phone with your other hand.

“It’s Mikaeïl,” came a surprisingly shy, male voice at the other end. “Is now a bad time?”

Your heart skipped a beat or two and you grinned despite the lingering frustration that the design wasn’t looking anywhere near ‘there’ yet. “No, not at all,” you smiled, “I’m at work, but I’d much rather talk to you.”

That seemed to fluster him a little, but he cleared his throat and said, “Well… I spoke with the department and showed them your preliminary design. They loved it and are very happy to commission you to do the posters for the event.”

“Fantastic!” you grinned, genuinely thrilled to have a more exiting project to work on than this steaming pile of minotaur shit currently sitting on your computer.

“I thought we might discuss it in more detail when you bring Celia over on Friday...” he said, his softly-articulated words doing odd things to your insides and heartbeat. You could imagine him standing amongst his hoard of plants, one arm folded protectively across his slim chest as he stood, ramrod straight, surveying the gardens beyond.

A second after that image had flashed through your mind, you realised that it wasn’t your turn to being Celia to her flute lesson that week. When you said as much, he sighed and said, “Never mind.”

“I mean... Celia doesn’t have to be my only reason to come over and see you, does she?” you asked playfully, doodling with the stylus on a new layer of the design. As you listened to him speak, his eyes began to stare out at you from the screen as you drew them, all distant and guarded, but glittering and somehow soft all the same.

“No,” he said slowly, the slight smile audible in his rich voice. “No, of course not. I’m rather busy with work this week, and I’m presenting a paper at a conference on Thursday, but if you’re alright to meet up in town instead during the week we could do that?”

“Stickybeaks?” you suggested, thinking of the cafe where you’d first met him.

He clearly along the same lines because he gave that sonorous chuckle that made your stomach churn pleasurably. “Perfect. What day suits you? I’m free most days after five, except this Thursday.”

“Friday?” you suggested. “I think Stickybeaks stays open til seven. We could have an early supper? That way you can tell me all about the conference too, if you like.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you,” he said reflexively.

“Oh, I think you’d have to work quite hard to bore me. I’m really quite a curious person...”

There was something melancholic about the tone of his clipped response. “If you say so,” was all he said. “Well, Friday works well for me. Shall I meet you there at half past five? That will give me enough time to walk over from the department.”

“Perfect. Looking forward to it.”

A beat too late, he said with a slight crack in his voice, “So am I.”

You rushed out of work that Friday and ended up getting to the cafe way too early, so you got out your A3 sketch pad and started to draw a number of variations on the same theme that you’d doodled back at Mikaeïl’s house. When he stepped through the doorway at precisely 5.29pm, Mikaeïl glanced around, the lenses of his round glasses glinting in the low light, and when he saw you, the hard line of his tense shoulders eased just a little.

Mikaeïl nodded politely at Lidaë, who was fluttering around behind the counter as usual despite the fact that there weren’t all that many customers in at that time, and then he strode over to your place in the back corner. The pathway through the sleek, modern tables gave you the opportunity to admire the slender form of his body and the effortless grace with which he moved, almost like a dancer. Today he wore a butterscotch coloured trench coat, belted tightly at his slim waist over black skinny jeans, and his autumn-red hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail again, with the shorter sections at the front falling down to mask the full intensity of his bright golden eyes.

“Hey,” you said, half standing.

“I hope you haven’t been here long,” he said by way of a greeting and staring at your drawings again with that odd expression again.

“No, not really,” you said, awkwardly sitting back down again. “I finished work a bit earlier than usual and came straight here. I roughed out a few more designs for the poster anyway.”

“You’ve been here long enough to have finished your drink,” he said pointedly. “Can I get you another?”

You eyed your empty cup and then glanced at your watch. “I just turned in a major project that’s been bugging me for weeks,” you grinned. “I think I earned a grown up drink…”

He cocked his head slightly and the corner of his pretty mouth twitched ever so slightly to show his amusement. “Congratulations. And I think I might join you in that.”

By the time he returned, you’d shunted the sketch book to one side and once he’d set your drink down, he took his coat off to hang it on the back of his chair. It was a real effort not to stare at the beauty of his figure. Perhaps it was the artist in you, but you really noticed the strong, straight lines of his waist and thighs, his body clearly tightly corded with extremely lean muscle, and the elegant movements of his fingers as he worked the buttons of his coat.

When he was finished, he sat and shyly drew his ponytail over one shoulder, twisting the end of it between his fingertips and blinked softly at you. “What?” he asked in a breathy murmur.

“I… Uh…” you blushed, and settled on a bashful, “Nothing. Have you come straight from teaching?”

He nodded.

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “Your students must love you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” he said bluntly.

“I wasn’t,” you said, feeling a heat creeping up your neck. Did he seriously not have any idea how attractive he was? “Don’t take this the wrong way then,” you said, sipping your drink and letting the warmth of the alcohol ignite a little courage in you, “But if you were my professor, I’m not sure I’d get much learning done…”

“Then I’d be failing in my duties as a teacher…”

Damn but he was hard work.

“Never mind,” you said. “How did the conference go?”

“Very well, to my surprise,” he said, holding the stem of his wine glass as if it were a rare specimen rose. He inhaled the scent of the wine before drinking, and closed his eyes briefly as he savoured it. His throat worked and you watched his sharp Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and that newly-kindled heat in your cheeks flared a little hotter while blood rushed south away from your brain to somewhere a little less articulate.

“What was your paper on?” you managed to rasp.

He cleared his throat and swirled his wine absentmindedly around his glass. “It’s… hardly a dinner time conversation,” he said.

“What, because you study bodies and death?”

His golden gaze flicked up to meet yours. “Most people find it repulsive.”

“You’re searching for answers,” you said. “I’m sure you’re respectful about the way you treat the remains. What’s repulsive about that?”

Mikaeïl blinked, and then his hard, wary expression flickered to something a little gentler, bordering on relief. “Well, alright. I was presenting my preliminary findings on the use of MRI and CT scans to determine the presence of necromantic activity in long-dead remains…”

“That stuff shows up? Even centuries later?” you asked, instantly intrigued.

He made a side to side shake of his head. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. X-ray has been used in the past, but because any damage caused post-mortem usually presents exactly the same whether the person in question was truly alive or undead, it’s not always particularly accurate… I want to explore the use of other technology to explore the effects that necromantic magic in particular has on the body after the heart has ceased beating.”

“That’s awesome,” you breathed, and he smiled again. “Was it well received?” you asked tentatively.

“Yes, for the most part. Non-invasive examination is always preferable, so there was a deal of interest from others in the field. I even had a lich in the audience who was willing to undergo some testing, which was encouraging.”

“Did you study medicine at the university here?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Quite some while ago though,” he said. “I worked as a medical examiner for a long time.”

You frowned, and he read your next question in your eyes.

“I’m not as youthful as I look,” he said. “My kind is long lived. And before you ask, I’m just over two hundred and sixty.”

“Whoa…” Honestly, it wasn’t actually that much of a surprise, given how… ‘remote’ he seemed at times. A moment later you added with a wry smile, “You must have enjoyed watching the leaps and bounds that science has made then in the last hundred or so years! I’d love to witness something like that…”

“That’s…” he faltered into silence.

“What?”

Mikaeïl steepled his long, fingers and rested his lips against his index and middle fingertips, elbows resting on the table. “That’s… honestly not a reaction I’ve had before.”

“I don’t understand?”

With a dry chuckle, he said, “Most people - though the number is admittedly few - discover I’m old enough to be their ancestor, and they start to act strangely. Friendships have been hard to initiate, and even tougher to maintain, though I’m sure that’s partly due to my own…” he swallowed, apparently unsure of the word before settling on, “‘Quirks’.”

You shrugged. “It sucks, I’m sure, but anyone who doesn’t at least try to understand or get to know you is missing out, and probably isn’t worth the effort anyway, at least in my limited experience. Can I ask you another question though?”

As his lips hitched up on one side, he nodded. “Of course.” And with that, he seemed to relax a little more in your presence.

“Is it super rude of me to ask what you are? I had thought you were at least part tiefling, but that was literally just from the horns and the eyes.”

“A common misconception,” he said over the rim of his wineglass before he took another sip. “And one I usually let slide. But no, I am not any part tiefling. I am… my family is… that is to say…” He set his wine down, took off his glasses, and cleaned them with a little cloth that he drew from his top pocket while he said quietly, “We are dragon shifters. Wyvern, technically.”

You blinked in silence for a stunned moment. Dragon shifters were exceptionally rare these days, having been hunted ruthlessly for sport, mostly by orcs but also by humans, about five hundred years ago. They’d been massacred in droves almost to the point of extinction. “No way,” you finally breathed.

He acknowledged the truth with a brief pursing of his lips, and returned his glasses to his face. Tersely, he added, “Please don’t ask me to prove it here. I won’t fit into this corner of the cafe, and besides, shifting is a huge inconvenience to say the very least.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said hastily. “I’m just… amazed? Surprised? Honoured?”

Mikaeïl deftly and promptly steered the conversation onto your drawings and drafts after that, and you allowed him to slide the limelight onto you. Clearly an intensely private individual, Mikaeïl had just honoured you with the truth about himself, and, curious as you were about what he might look like in his wyvern form, you respected his gift by focusing on the real reason you were there. This was not a date after all, no matter how much you wished it were.

Despite that fact, however, it was five minutes before closing time when Lidaë flitted over to you, her iridescent hummingbird’s plumage shimmering, and politely asked if you’d mind wrapping up so she could close up her cafe.

Mikaeïl startled from your conversation as if he’d suffered an electric shock. “I’m so sorry, Lidaë,” he said, standing abruptly and pushing his chair back with a decidedly ungraceful scrape on the wooden floorboards. “I had no idea it was so late.”

She patted his arm fondly and shook her head. “Never you mind, my lovely. I’m glad to see you having such a good evening.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his pale cheeks flushed and he glanced briefly at you before fumbling to pick up his coat. Once he’d slid it on, he fished out his wallet and insisted that he pay for everything.

Outside, with your bag packed and a design finalised, you looked up at him and he turned his deep, golden eyes on you. In the light from the street lamps overhead, his yellow eyes reflected the soft glow in a decidedly inhuman way, and you felt something stirring inside you again.

Feeling perhaps a little uncharacteristically bold, you reached for his shoulders, took them gently in your hands, and leaned in to kiss his smooth, cool cheek. As you withdrew, you saw that he’d gone rigid, his eyes wide with surprise. Allowing yourself a small giggle at his expense, you grinned at him.

“I’ll bring the finished design with me when I bring Celia over next Friday, if that’s ok.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed softly.

“Looking forward to it,” you said. “And thank you again for supper.”

“My pleasure,” he croaked, bowing his head. “Sincerely.”

Tossing a final grin and a wave his way, you walked off down the street, leaving him standing there, and when you glanced back, you saw that he was walking away in the opposite direction, his fingertips just brushing his cheek where your lips had kissed his skin.

To be continued next Friday! (don’t let me forget!)

—

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