#but like having a crisis because someone you treasure is hurt or missing

[avelera]

Things that can be simultaneously true:

1 ) Codependency that would be unhealthy in real life can be really sexy and appealing in fic, and in romance stories in general, because those aren’t real life. We want to see the excesses of that emotion so we can feel it vicariously as far removed as we are as readers by the barrier of the written word. Writing characters who are obsessively in love is an effective tool in that regard even if they shouldn’t serve as educational models of an ideal relationship (whatever that is).

2 ) Some of what y’all are labeling as “unhealthily codependent” (even if it’s praise of a story where y’all find the codependency appealing as part of the story!)… isn’t unhealthily codependent?? Sometimes people do just spend a lot of time together when they love each other and make one another their priority? Oftentimes, that’s the person that people choose to marry (or equivalent) and the whole point of that decision and arrangement is you become one another’s priority???

Like I’m just gonna throw this out there as a litmus test for fandom to try out but maybe (when it’s adult characters involved) just ask “is this unhealthily, clinically codependent, like these people can’t psychologically function without the other, OR would they just be really sad without the other because they’re effectively married and they’ve made one another a priority and they could, in fact, after they’ve grieved pull themselves together and continue to function, even if it’s not instantaneous??”

[purplellamanator]

So, I'm sorry I don't really know what to call this and did not give it a name- but, this is a product heavily inspired by these head-canon's created and posted by @detectivegeekshin! Please check them out if you haven't already! (if you're following me though you probably already did :D) This is insanely long though and I hope ya'll like it! Sorry @detectivegeekshin that it took me so long! I've been working on this for more than two months I think- so again, sorry!!! Thank you for allowing me to use your ideas to make, what was supposed to be a drabble, story and I hope I did your head-canon's justice! Please excuse my grammar mistakes! I tried my best to clean it up! Thank you again!

Read below the cut for the story :)

Stealing wasn't exactly the word he wanted to use. He didn't consider himself to be a thief. Was it really even stealing if he was taking it from someone it didn't actually belong to? Shinichi didn't think so.

And it wasn't about giving the wealth back to the poor. He wouldn't necessarily call himself Robin Hood either. It was about returning something to its rightful place; to the rightful owner.

It was wrong. All of it. It went against the very morals he himself created to follow when he first decided he'd be the greatest detective of the era. Stealing was wrong no matter if it was stealing something that was already stolen. It was the law and if the law was followed, then it would work out correctly in the end either way.

But that way of thinking wasn't always true. He realized that the longer he worked in this business and the more experience he gathered. It would be a nice world to live in when the law could fix everything. And unfortunately he wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that world existed anymore.

The first time he did it, it had gone against every fiber of his being. The mental crisis he thrusted his entire being into had sidelined him for weeks. So ashamed, Shinichi couldn't bring himself to work on another case. What right did he have? To expose criminals for killing? For kidnapping? For stealing?

He had no right. He was no better than those criminals. Because that was what he was now- a criminal.

The stress and just anxiety that this put him under- Shinichi considered dropping his dream of being a detective. His morals and guilt had been tearing him apart inside.

Until he turned on the news and remembered why he did what he did.

A woman was crying. They were tears of joy and happiness. And she was thankful. Thankful that the heirloom that had gone missing for decades had miraculously found its place back on her dresser. That she had no idea who or how it happened but she was grateful to whomever had given her this.

And that was when Shinichi was reminded of what finally pushed him to this. What made him crack.

He was a detective and he had done his job. He found the precious necklace that had eluded every private eye hired before him. He located it and all they had to do was retrieve it and return it back where it belonged.

But the police couldn't. They needed warrants and that took time. Time they did not have enough of. It would be sold once more on the black market and disappear likely for another decade before they were even served.

The adrenaline that had coursed through him when he finally decided what he would do. He had never felt more satisfied. There had been no disguises; no gimmicks. Just himself. His own face and his own brain. And they still hadn't caught him. It had been easy. So much easier than waiting on the courts.

After that day he saw the news, Shinichi had walked with his head held higher than any other day. He didn't know why exactly. It wasn't like anybody else besides him knew what he had done. No one but him was aware that the woman got that necklace back because of his own actions. Yet hearing people congratulate and whisper about how amazing the mystery was made him smug.

Shinichi told himself it would be a one time thing. Seeing that woman from before distraught and sobbing that her family's prized possession would likely never be returned in her lifetime- it had done something to him. It made him act. Even though he usually did so well detaching himself emotionally from his cases, that one alone had gotten to him. But he'd do better next time. Even if the outcome would be bittersweet and leave him feeling like he failed, he could not do it again. No matter who the victim was or if they cried.

But he didn't stick to that clearly because he did it again a month later, and then soon after that, and again after that.

His excuse each time- he had done so well not getting caught before. What could it hurt to do it again? It was easier. It was faster. With his genius he was sure he would get away with it no matter how many times he tried this. He couldn't be caught. He couldn't be beat. He was just too . . good at it.

Until he wasn't.

He had gotten too cocky; too arrogant. He should've stopped while he was ahead. He had gotten away with it so many times and yet he kept pushing it. And he pushed the boundaries each time. He got more and more careless than the last. And now he was stuck explaining to the last person he ever wanted to find out, why he was parading around as some law abiding detective when he was really a thief.

In the midst of his newly found hobby, Ran- one of his best friends, had realized he was not acting the same as usual. Shinichi didn't allow her to join him to certain cases anymore. He would be secretive about where he was going afterwards as well as if she had somehow already been there, he had even told her to straight up leave.

He should've known that Ran would notice something sooner. It wasn't like him to ever hide things from her and it definitely was not normal for him to tell her to leave a crime scene- unless it was a rather dangerous one. Cases that had to do with robbery didn't normally fall under that. Those were the cases he'd usually rather her witness. She didn't like anything with too much gore and like any normal person, she got scared if she even saw a corpse.

But each time he told her to leave or that she shouldn't follow him. Most of the time he did lie and say it was because he worried it would turn violent. Other times he didn't give a reason. And he definitely should've noticed her suspicion because he normally loved having her witness his cases and deductions. He liked impressing her.

Unfortunately, he didn't notice in time that he was actually worrying her. His sudden change was concerning to her and she ended up following him when he said the Inspector had called and asked for him to come by the station.

Shinichi never went to the station. There had never been a call. Instead, donning his change of clothes, he took a train almost a full hour out till he reached his actual destination.

When he said he had started pushing the boundaries, he had meant it. No longer did his thefts remain with cases within the Japanese Police. He started digging for unresolved cases in the black markets.

The entire time Ran had been tailing him. She had followed him the entire way and he hadn't noticed a single thing, which he didn't know if he should be annoyed by or impressed.

When he had almost been shot however and Ran's foot suddenly came down on the guards head, he settled on being impressed. Because though he was furious she had followed him into such a dangerous underground location, she had saved his ass. And it didn't help that Ran was aware of that fact.

She hadn't pressured him for an explanation. Shinichi thought she would yell at him and demand to know what he was doing and why. Ran hadn't done any of that. Instead, she took it upon herself to be his lookout as he finished what he originally set out to do.

Ran kept her thoughts to herself at first. It had made him nervous considering he was expecting her anger. When he hadn't gotten it, he didn't know what to expect now. Her moral compass was just as strong as his had been. When she realized what he was doing- and she definitely already had, he could only assume it'd upset her. Why wouldn't it? At this point he was no better than-

"Are you Kaito Kid?"

Kaito Kid. Obviously he knew who she was talking about. And it was actually insulting and ticked him off.

What he did took more skill. He wasn't some magic freak with a couple fog machines and pet doves. He had no disguise. If Shinichi wanted something, he walked in there and took it. With his own face.

With a stony expression, he denied the accusation. As far as he was concerned, he always thought of the Phantom Thief as, exactly that, a thief. Truthfully, he hadn't run into the magician too much after his new found discovery. And at the thought he realized that it must mean Kid wasn't after just any treasure. He must've been looking for something in particular which reminded him that he didn't know the guy's actual motive behind his crimes. Maybe like him, he realized, Kid might have a valid reason for turning to crime.

When he started sympathizing with a criminal however he noticed how far in his own crimes he actually was.

Ran took his denial in stride. She didn't seem all that surprised by his response. She clearly didn't actually think he was the Phantom Thief. But oddly enough, she didn't really ask for an explanation. If he wasn't doing this as Kid, then why was he doing it? She didn't claim to want to know.

Oddly enough, that annoyed him as well. It should be a good thing she wasn't drilling him for answers. She was just accepting what he was doing and not going to stop him.

"You're that vigilante thief they're talking about all over the news. . . aren't you? The Night Baron?"

Night Baron? Out of all the things, that's what they decided to go with? And though it was exactly what he was, the word vigilante left a bad taste in his mouth.

This accusation was different however. Unlike the Phantom Thief one, she uttered this one with confidence. If he denied this, Ran would not believe him. There was no point in trying anyway when she had literally caught him in the act.

It took him aback a little that she had caught on so easily. The Night Baron wasn't as common in the news. He hadn't been doing this nearly as long as the other well known thief. It made him question if she'd been contemplating this for awhile. How long had she suspected him? And how could she not say this without any ounce of anger?

"Well. . . I have faith in you, Shinichi," she finally said when he asked. "I know you and I know you wouldn't be doing this unless you had a good reason or you thought it was right."

"And what you're doing is right. The Night Baron helps people."

The amount of trust she put in his character made him feel warm inside. It was embarrassing but that sentiment made the corners of his eyes almost prickle. Shinichi hadn't realized how desperately he had wanted to hear those words. He thought he had come to terms with his guilt. But clearly he had not if hearing Ran say that almost made him get choked up.

Ran didn't think less of him for losing his morals. She didn't look at him in disgust. She approved of it. She encouraged him for doing it. No explanation given yet and she had already determined that what he did, he did for good. He had no desire or intention for personal gain. And he had never felt like someone had ever seen him so clearly before.

Again, she didn't push for his actual reasonings. Based off her earlier assumptions, she likely already knew them. But though it was clear she didn't think it, he didn't want to risk her assuming he was some mindless criminal. Without her prompting, he gave his explanation.

The law wasn't enough sometimes. And though it was sad and went against what he engrained in his own head, this was the best and more efficient option. After all, if you want something done correctly, do it yourself then, right?

Ran hadn't so much as flinched. And it was staggering.

"You're not upset?" He couldn't help the disbelieving tone he used. It was almost a little concerning she wasn't more opposed to this.

Ran shrugged. "I am a little. Clearly you've been doing this by yourself and lying to me when you could've just told me."

Tell her? Why would he want to tell her?

"Shinichi, you were almost shot. Clearly you need help doing this."

Absolutely not.

That had been his initial reaction. If he ever for some reason got caught, it would likely drag her down with him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

But after sleeping on it for a quite a few days, and also that he couldn't sneak off anymore once Ran realized what he was going, Shinichi began to see the possible perks to working with a partner. And not just any partner but Ran specifically.

She was smart. He was definitely the mastermind behind all of their plans but that was not to say Ran couldn't come up with a plan of her own. Her insight gave another perspective that sometimes, he never would've thought of. If she didn't like an idea, she said it. If she thought they should do something else, she told him. Shinichi wasn't perfect. He missed things sometimes. It was good to have her pair of eyes as well.

It was just as helpful to have her brute strength as well. He assumed most would find it somewhat emasculating to be physically weaker than their female counterpart. Shinichi didn't mind at all. He was strong as well but admittedly, there were things Ran could do that he could not. Like denting a wall with her bare fist.

With Ran added into the picture, it came with even more possibilities. And perks.

The one person he didn't want to have to lie to, he didn't have to anymore. And they worked close.

He liked that too.

Ran was a good asset and made his job a whole lot easier. He really took note of that fact when instead of climbing through an air duct to sneak into some party, Ran had somehow managed to get them clearance through the front door.

And that wasn't nearly all she was able to do.

Ran is gorgeous. It was the bitter sweet conclusion he came to when Ran easily had the host eating out of the palm of her hand. The guy probably would've just given her the painting they were after if she simply asked properly.

The thought annoyed him.

He always knew he had a thing for Ran. He was pretty sure everybody knew that fact besides the girl herself. He had known her for a long time now. They had been friends since the first year of college. Their friend group was also the same and their parents both had ties to the Japanese Police Force. And she was stunning to look at. He'd argue it would be impossible for him not to take a liking to his friend.

He never told her though. He didn't know if she felt the same and after this partnership they just started, he wasn't sure it was worth the risk. If he tried a move and it scared her off, he'd have to revert to working alone. And he didn't want to do that for more reasons than one.

Like he acknowledged before, Ran was beautiful. He was not alone in that belief. It made it all the more difficult to witness guys flaunt their wealth and good looks in her face. He didn't want to see that. They didn't actually know her. Ran was his friend for three years. They didn't deserve her especially when clearly all they wanted was to undress her. And they were arguably worse criminals than half the people he got locked up.

So it was all instinct when he finally cracked. Some guy whom they didn't know was trying to dance with Ran. And he wasn't just 'trying'. He was touching and caressing her arm. Gritting his teeth, Shinichi couldn't help himself when he wrapped an arm around Ran's waist and tugged her back into his chest.

"I thought the first dance was mine, wife."

It was stupid. He had no idea why he allowed that to slip out. If he didn't have better control of his emotions he probably would've turned flustered all the way to his toes.

Ran's eyes bulged. "W-wife?!"

Honestly, her surprise couldn't be helped. He had totally blindsided her. It was his fault. And he definitely didn't have a valid enough reason to interfere like he did.

Sensing something was off between the couple, the other guy raised a brow as he eyed the arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "You don't recognize your own husband?"

Shinichi wanted to bash his own head against the wall. This was why they weren't supposed to go against the plan. Posing as her husband had definitely not been part of what they discussed earlier. It caused too many questions that they did not prepare beforehand to answer-

A hand suddenly slid up and brushed against his cheek softly. "We're not married just yet, Shin-chan. Only engaged so it's a bit too soon to be saying that," she chastised with a giggle; her acting on point.

Beyond his control, he could feel a slight heat rise to his cheeks. The intimate way she touched his face wasn't helping either. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her eyes, meeting her softened gaze.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't see the ring."

The ring?

Ring?

A ring!

They didn't even have rings to back up their story-!

It was at that point Shinichi didn't know if the guy was actually apologetic for hitting on a married woman or suspicious that they weren't actually a couple that was engaged.

"No, it's our fault really," Ran said sheepishly. "This dummy here didn't get me the right ring size so it's sadly getting resized."

Shinichi was a little insulted. He would've most definitely did his research to get her the correct ring size before proposing.

After the guy walked away, they both found their way to the dance floor with all the other couples and joined in the slow sway. If asked why, he'd argue it was to back up their story even more. Deep down though, Shinichi knew better.

Ran was oddly silent however.

"Shin-chan?" He grumbled with forced annoyance. At the time it had completely caught him off guard. The nickname that his mother used for him. At the time he figured it was payback for the confusion he started. It didn't mean he hated the name any less.

But just as easily, she quipped back, "Wife?" She raised a brow as if to drive her point and he immediately shut his mouth.

It was definitely payback.

Ran never did question why he stepped in that night. They were on a job after all and he deduced that likely she had already forgotten what he'd done. Besides the little hiccup, every thing else went according to plan. Everything else stayed the same.

Until their next job. And the job after that. And the one after that.

Because that one night when they had taken the painting; it had started a trend of sorts. A trend where one or the either would claim to be in a relationship with the other. Before it had started with a dance which at the time, neither had been prepared for and both were too awkward to acknowledge properly. But the next time they are holding hands and eventually it becomes normal for Ran to hug his arm to her chest or for him to hold her waist.

Each time is a mystery to them. Neither have any idea what they'll be. It was a constant cycle of being married, to dating, to two already taken spouses in a very wanton and promiscuous love affair. And the stories they came up with on the spot were more extravagant and extra than the last. And they were never prepared before hand. Suddenly it was a game for them. How deep could they take this? What tale could they come up with this time? It was getting out hand. The stories were getting more detailed each time, he almost believed the lies himself.

Shinichi didn't usually snap back out of it until he saw her again in class the next day. They weren't childhood friends that had been together since preschool days. He hadn't dramatically confessed his love in London while the Big Ben chimed behind them. They hadn't shared a first kiss at Kiyomizu-dera on a school trip to Kyoto.

And it didn't stop there. If they weren't already talking to each other, they would always be touching in some form. Whether that was by a hand resting against his thigh or his fingers dragging dangerously low on her lower back.

It was a very small line they were tiptoeing against and the blatant flirting they joined in with was starting to toy with his emotions. It was one thing to elaborate or give false truths to further their disguises. It was another entirely to grope each other secretly. There was no witness to convince. Who were they showing off for other than each other?

It was getting increasingly more difficult to act like nothing was going on- or at least nothing was going on with his end. He was stressed and constantly filled with anxiety that at some point these lies would eventually bleed into their actual daily lives. Because when he once again had to suppress the urge to grab her hand as they walked from class, he was realizing once again who they actually were.

They were Shinichi and Ran. A Shinichi and Ran that had met three years ago in a shared psychology class. A Shinichi and Ran that were best friends and nothing more. A Shinichi that had been mooning after the same girl since he first met her. A Ran that as far as he could tell, didn't share that same sentiment.

This whole thing was a dangerous idea where his emotions were involved. And due to his argument that they didn't need to stop this 'charade' or whatever was the proper term to call it, it wasn't a matter of if this would affect their personal lives. It was a matter of when.

Surprisingly, it wasn't him that cracked.

It had been an honest mistake- one Shinichi didn't exactly mind. They had been in a study session with Sonoko and Nakamichi. It was a hot day and they had all taken refuge in the campus library. And to also help combat the heat, Shinichi had a water bottle that he was casually sipping on. One that Ran had easily grabbed from his hands to take a swig out of.

Shinichi didn't mind. He really didn't and truthfully, he probably wouldn't of even noticed if it weren't for the fact all their friends froze to gap at her incredulously. She had done this to him numerous times on a job. Asking for a sip of his champagne or simply stealing a bite of food off his plate. It had been a shock the first time but it in the moment he knew that was likely her intention to get a rise out of him. Now however, he was positive that she had fell into that act by mistake. She didn't mean anything by it, he was sure- not like she used to.

Nakamichi whom had been in the process of reading out his answer for one of the questions on the study guide had trailed off slowly, almost completely floored by what he had witnessed. Sonoko looked like she would fall out of her seat.

It was almost laughable that Ran didn't realize the stares that were being drilled into her. Attempting to keep his face neutral, he nudged his knee into hers gently and it was only at that she finally began to realize her mistake.

Features turning a scorching red, she quickly forced the water back into his hands. "I-I'm so sorry!" she burst. "I have no idea why I did that! I don't know what I was thinking," she sputtered. "I-it was just so hot and I-I-"

She was drowning; sinking further into her panic and he tried to save her.

"Ran, it's okay," he said calmly even though on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as she was. "It's hot outside and I've known you forever. We can share a water bottle." Shinichi was trying to play it cool. For the sake of their image with their friends.

Of course it wouldn't be enough to deter the teases they were sure to receive from their friends but what else could he do? He couldn't very well say she grabbed his by mistake. It had literally been in his hand. He had just drank out of it and been going to sip out of it again when she grabbed it. And he definitely couldn't say that she did this to him all the time when pretending to be his wife.

There was absolutely nothing they could say to excuse this. The whole scene had been way too casual even for the two of them. Sonoko, whom had made numerous jokes that they were actually a married couple, looked like this was too much for even her to comprehend. Because whether she knew he had a thing for Ran or not, anything she said before this had been harmless taunts.

"How long has then been going?!" Sonoko having determined that the study session was now over, pointed between them furiously. And that wasn't just an exaggeration. Sonoko looked irritated. Not because they were seemingly dating but because she had both missed and not been informed when it happened.

But there was nothing to tell. Nothing was going on- or rather nothing in the way she was thinking. No matter how many times they both told her that, the Suzuki heiress did not look convinced. Not even Nakamichi seemed to trust it but unlike the other girl, he thankfully kept his accusations shut till they were in private.

"Look- I'm not saying I'm mad or anything. It just sucks a little that you didn't tell me," his friend finally admitted when they left the two girls at the library.

Neither had been worried or surprised when Sonoko said they would catch up with them later. Shinichi felt bad for abandoning Ran but he knew that Sonoko would want to grill her for answers. It would've been more humiliating for both of them to be present for that.

Nakamichi wasn't nearly as difficult as Suzuki to deal with but Shinichi still found himself rolling his eyes. "I already told you," he said tiredly. "Ran and I are not dating." Shinichi wasn't sure how many more times he would have to say just that. He didn't even know if there was any other way to word what he was trying to get through his friend's apparently thick skull.

Suddenly his friend stopping walking, forcing him to do the same. For some reason his eyes were wide and a slight red was forming on his cheeks. "Oh."

Oh? Shinichi raised a confused brow. "What?"

"Well- I just never thought Ran-chan would ever. . . " Nakamichi trailed off, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. "She just doesn't seem the type, you know?"

Huh?

"Her . . type?"

And then suddenly his friend looked concerned, waving his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey- I'm not judging! Whatever you wanna call it- I support it!"

Suddenly Shinichi was freezing himself. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked aggravatedly.

"You and Ran-chan aren't dating but you're. . . you know," Nakamichi said pointedly. "You still could've told me though. I'm not going to tell anybody. Have some faith man. We've know each other since grade school."

Shinichi's eyes bulged and all the blood rushed to his face as understanding finally hit him.

"Ran and I aren't dating and we're not doing t-that either!" he exploded.

oOo

Without Ran even needing to tell him, Shinichi knew Sonoko must've given her a hard time afterwards. Nakamichi probably wasn't nearly as difficult to deal with but it still had been an uncomfortable conversation nonetheless.

His friend actually thought that he and Ran were having . . . sex on the side.

He wouldn't be so lucky.

Shinichi was flushing at the thought alone. It had been so humiliating.

But what made it worse however was when Ran actually apologized to him again in private. She reiterated once more that she couldn't understand what she had been thinking in the moment. She also suggested that maybe it would be best to stop pretending. It was mixing them up in real life and confusing for both of them.

A small part of him was crushed by her suggestion no matter how logical it was. It hurt.

Shinichi rejected the idea. He agreed that maybe they could tone it down some. They didn't need to be a couple every time they did a job. But he also argued that sometimes the act actually did make their job easier. And deep down there was another reason he didn't want to share.

Because if they gave up their little charade, then he knew what that would mean. There was no logical circumstance that would allow him to touch her and flirt with her like when they were on a job. And he desperately didn't want to lose that. Even if their act escalated each time.

But he knew Ran had a point.

Their next job was once again at another extravagant and fancy party. And this time, they both arrived alone. The two had snuck in separately and at different times as well. And throughout the entire night, neither acknowledged the other. They acted like perfect strangers.

This time the showcase was a pearl. A pearl that would surprisingly 'go missing' by the end of the night. And like every other job they did, he had a plan that they had gone over in detail numerous times. One that didn't work out at all considering the whole night had been derailed by the sudden appearance of the Phantom Thief.

The moment that magician's calling card appeared, Shinichi knew they'd have to make adjustments to their plan and they needed to do it now. If KID followed and stuck by the time on his announcement, then the pearl they were both after would be long gone by the time they got anywhere near it.

They had to improvise which was difficult without them even talking to each other. Besides that factor added in, throwing Kid into the mix only derailed everything further. If they wanted any hope of beating Kid, then they had to act right then.

To be honest, it wasn't very surprising they were almost caught. It hadn't been particularly smart of him to continue with his intentions of stealing the pearl. Just Kaito Kid being there caused too much of a scene. Any calling card that arrived meant it would soon be followed by police and a camera crew. The Phantom Thief brought media attention wherever he went. It was dumb of him to not just give the pearl to the thief. Especially cause-

Kaito Kid had mentioned the Night Baron in his calling card. He had made it clear he was aware that he wasn't the only thief present with their sights set on the pearl. And he had mentioned the other thief by name.

That gave a lot of insight Shinichi wasn't even sure Kid meant to give. That calling card told the detective that either Kid knew what types of jobs the Night Baron targeted or worse- that he knew the true identity of the Night Baron. And if the latter was correct, then it meant that someone had been watching him for a long time. Someone was probably watching him right now. And if that were the case, Kid knew his entire plan.

The right thing to do would be to pull back. To grab Ran and bail. The plans he had made were done without taking Kaito Kid into account. But if the other thief really had been watching him, then those plans could be tossed out a window. Nothing was worth getting both him and Ran caught and possibly arrested. The logical conclusion was to escape while they could.

Shinichi was too prideful for that. And stubborn. This wasn't his first run-in with the Moonlight Thief. Shinichi had dealt with him quite a few times when helping Inspector Nakamouri or Inspector Meguire. This would however be the first time he ran into the guy when he was on one of his own little side jobs.

And he was not prepared. Fighting against him as a detective had numerous resources. He had the Japanese Police Force at his disposal. As well as when he was working his real job- he did not need to hide his own face. Not only could he be recognized by the police, he had also made a name as a criminal. If somehow his face was linked to the scene of all those crimes- he was done for.

But like the idiot he was, he couldn't help but take this as a challenge. The fact Kaito Kid mentioned him by name in his calling card told him that the thief knew he was there and also he didn't really care nor was he stressed by that.

It wasn't like him to panic. But in the end, that was what he'd done. His actions had been panicked and rushed and honestly- thoughtless. Ran hadn't scolded him at all through the night; probably thinking now wasn't the time when they were running from police officers. Shinichi could just feel her disapproval however. He knew the moment they were out of here and alone at his house, he'd receive the yelling of a lifetime.

Getting an earful would be the least of his worries if they couldn't find a way out of this building. All of the usual exit points had been closed or cut off due to Kid's warning for his appearance. The guy was a showoff and frustrating. Shinichi knew it was all part of the guy's show to leave people wondering just how he made his escape.

Shinichi wanted to throttle him.

Because of that hack of a magician, he'd get caught. Because of him, Ran would get in trouble with him. The two of them had been running nonstop and even if they had the layout of the mansion memorized, it wouldn't help with guards standing at every single entrance and exit- which is what they had been doing the moment Shinichi triggered their alarm.

The panic and just straight anxiety that he felt in that moment, could not be paralleled to anything else in his life. He knew they were running out of options. Usually he was the one with all the plans but he couldn't even gather his thoughts to try to formulate one. All he could think was how much of a sad excuse for a thief, a detective, and a friend he was-

No. If there was one thing he would do, it was to save Ran. He got Ran involved in this and he would not allow her to go down with him. Already he had given up on finding escape. Now all he was trying to do was deduce just how he was going to explain Ran's side of things. He'd force her to pose as his hostage if he had to. He would not allow her to be ruined from this-

Abruptly his thoughts caught off when Ran very suddenly gripped his fingers tightly. When he glanced over in her direction, he found she was already looking at him. They were both running as fast as they could trying to put more and more distance between them and the heavy footfalls coming from behind them. Unlike him however, she did not appear scared or stressed. In fact, while he was internally having a meltdown, Ran shot him a quick but soft smile.

And suddenly she was pushing ahead of him; her fingers still clenching his tightly as she tugged him behind her.

She was taking them further in though, he noticed incredulously. In fact she was taking them towards the rooms. Shinichi had to stare into the back of her head, as if wondering if she'd lost her mind. There was no exit to the outside this far in. Nothing but windows which they already realized was not going to be an option. There would be officers outside each window waiting for them. They would not be able to get far.

Just when he had been about to reprimand her himself, he found himself being tugged to the side again. Ran's goal hadn't been the window. She had pulled him into one of the numerous bedrooms that lined the hall. Which he guessed would be nice for shock value but again, he found himself wanting to question her. Sure hiding in a room would be unexpected at first but he highly doubted they would fail to check these rooms. All it would do is buy them some time before they were eventually captured. And a simple search would prove that he was in possession of the pearl that was currently missing.

They had put quite a bit of distance between them and the task force that was chasing them. They would have a few minutes at most. And he knew exactly what he was going to do with those few minutes.

"Ran, what the hell?" he spun on her only for his eyes to grow bigger even more. He had turned to find her turning on the table lamp and he really thought she had lost it. They were trying to hide. They should be turning lights out, he wanted to yell as he watched her come back over to him. Anything he was meaning to say was gone when she was suddenly pulling him again and he only watched in confusion as she seemed to position him just in front of the table she had walked to.

His eyes bulged when she grabbed one of his hands and placed it around her ribs. And when she placed the other very firmly onto her rear, he turned into a sputtering mess.

"R-Ran . . . " The way he said her name this time was unlike before. It was smaller he knew but it was definitely nervous as well. By this point he was less concerned about the police chasing them than he was about his partner's behavior. He had given up on talking when suddenly she was pressing her palm flat against his chest. He followed the movement with his eyes until her other hand caressed his cheek forcing him to look directly at her.

She wasn't saying anything. And even if he wanted to, she didn't give him enough time to try. Palm on his chest scrunching into a fist, all he could do was gasp when suddenly he was tugged down into a kiss.

He froze. His eyes had bulged even more he was sure and he felt his features flood red- redder than they had been. It was hard for him to comprehend what exactly was happening right now. Ran hadn't given him a chance to process anything and the moment her lips touched his, his mind went blank. He was pretty sure he wasn't even breathing at this point.

She must've felt how frozen he was because suddenly she was pushing forward more, her mouth pressing insistently against his own. As if yelling at him to do something. And that was all he needed.

Taking notice that her eyes were shut, he did the same before he leaned into her willingly. His hand that she had pressed against her rear- that he had left there mostly out of shock, grabbed her and pressed her against him more firmly. The movement made her gasp and going off her response, his other hand rose to bury itself in her hair where he angled her face to fit more comfortably against his.

The kiss was slow but it didn't mean it was any less sensuous. Tongues were brushing against each other, their breath intermingling as it panted against the other's lips. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly why Ran felt the need to kiss him now, but as far as first kisses could go- he wasn't complaining. Was a reason really necessary?

No. He didn't think so.

Was he going to ask her why she was suddenly tugging his shirt from where it was neatly tucked into his pants?

Maybe later- definitely not now though. He didn't question it. He didn't question hearing what sounded like a door opening before being slammed shut. He didn't want to. If Ran wasn't, then why should he? All he knew in that moment was that something that he had been waiting for- something he had been wanting, was finally happening and he wasn't going to waste his time trying to get an explanation of why.

But even without wasting his time, it still wasn't enough. All too soon he felt Ran begin to pull away. Her hands released their tight grip on his shirt and hair and came to rest smoothly against his chest. Shinichi felt the retreat. She was moving away from him. And the realization made him panic.

No. He felt his mind shout. That wasn't enough. It's not enough.

Surging forward, just after their lips had completely separated, he found them slamming against hers once more. This time because of him. And when she gasped into his mouth he just couldn't help himself. Arms gripping her firmly, he turned to the side forcing her into the wall just beside the shelf she had him pressed against. His fingers had never left her hair and instead his fingers buried deeper into the long strands. If the grip was painful, Ran didn't say. If anything, it sounded like she liked it with the way she released a moan into his mouth.

Shinichi had her pressed into the wall, the hand that wasn't angling her face closer to his, gripping the bare skin of her thigh. In the moment, he didn't care to process or wonder just how his hand got through the slit of her dress. All he wanted to do was just get closer and closer and as close as he could get, he concluded as he forced her leg to stay raised against his hip. When it got to the point they needed a second to just breathe, he had his lips slanting across the smooth skin of her neck. From this position he could feel her panting heavily against his ear. He could feel her desperately trying to draw in air to her lungs. He also felt when she stiffened.

When he had practically picked her up, forcing her into the wall, Ran's hands had both slid to the front of his shirt. When she gripped the lapels of his suit coat she had used force to tug his mouth closer to her neck. Suddenly however, he felt that grip slacken.

"I t-think. . . I think they're gone now. . "

That was like a wake up call.

His own common sense kicking in, he remembered where they were. What they were doing. Who was chasing them. Gently, he released his hold of her thigh and set her to rest on her own feet. Taking a glance at her he noticed she was redder than he was.

"I-I'm sorry. I knew they would find us either way so I-I . . improvised. . . "

Improvised?

Improvised.

Still sort of stuck in some dazed haze, it took him longer than it should to understand what exactly she meant.

Improvised, he repeated again in his thoughts.

That was what she kissed him for? Shinichi could remember discreetly at some point the door opening and then slamming shut shortly after. At the time he hadn't really cared that much to question it. He had been way too focused and interested in something else.

Something else that she 'improvised'.

The bitter thought left the same taste is his mouth.

Frowning, and face turning a darker shade, he took a step back.

"Right . . . " he agreed swallowing hard.

Of course they couldn't stay there any longer than they already had. There was always the possibility that the police would realize their mistake and return. If they were smart, they shouldn't be here for if or when that happens. There was no time to just stand there awkwardly. Though that was what he proceeded to do.

The reminder she gave for why they had hid in this room in the first place, did nothing for him. He should've been like her; scrambling to fix their appearance to look somewhat normal. But he couldn't be bothered. Shinichi watched as she hurriedly straightened her dress and finally, began the process of cleaning himself up. His motions were slow and sluggish however compared to her quick and hastened ones. It was only after a few moments of him pulling his tie forward that he realized his shirt was untucked.

"Does my hair look okay?"

All at once he was distracted. Again. Pausing with his shirt, and glancing back at her. Did her hair look okay?

"Yes."

Belatedly he realized what she actually meant. Was her hair fixed? Did she look normal? And still looking at the hair that he knew she had styled meticulously beforehand, it was tangled and frizzed. The long strands were very obviously out of place.

He startled a little when suddenly Ran was just before him, brushing her fingers through his hair. He was taller than her so she was on her toes, stretching to reach his height. He acknowledged that but seemed to struggle to realize maybe he should lean down to make it easier for her. The thought didn't occur to him. Not at first anyway. Once the thought hit that maybe she was trying to kiss him again, he found himself bending down. Her face was close to his again and he caught the scent of whatever it was she was wearing.

The sudden movement clearly caught her off guard and his eyes that had apparently been focused on her mouth watched as she didn't pull away, but instead rested flat on her feet again. Her hands were still in his hear however and he had to take a moment to wonder if she was going to use that to grab him again.

"Shinichi! What are you doing?" she practically hissed the question; her movements still hurried. "You look like a mess. Hurry up!"

And with a blushing face he realized that no, she wasn't trying to kiss him again. She was trying to fix his hair because it looked ridiculous. And he was just standing there, taking his time. Like an idiot.

Hearing noises in the distance however, they had run out of time. Immediately whatever stupor he had been in, broke and not willing to use anymore time, they bolted.

Shinichi was sure they looked like quite the pair. There was no way people would look at them and think they hadn't done something. He guessed that meant the plan worked but it didn't make it any less humiliating having to push through snickering guests that 'just knew what they'd been up to'.

They hadn't been up to anything however. Just 'improvising'.

And all he had said in response was, 'right'.

Shinichi hated how that one word was all he said. It gave the impression that they were on the same page. And if that was all that kiss was to her, then clearly they weren't. In the moment he hadn't the brain to make the connection between her actions and the situation they had been stuck in.

He wasn't surprised he didn't get her intentions to begin with. Unlike her, it never crossed his mind to use that as a . . disguise? And the fact that they didn't think exactly alike is what saved them.

But he was still mad.

It was laughable and dramatic and infuriating. Because he couldn't do or say anything in response and he knew it. How could he be angry? How could he complain if her plan actually worked? Yeah, sure his pride was hurt and he was a little embarrassed when he realized they were not on the same page. But he could admit, hurt feelings were easier to deal with than jail time.

It didn't mean he couldn't feel the sting still.

Shinichi knew why it hurt so much. He knew the real reason. Because for once he actually believed that Ran saw him as he saw her. Not just best friends or partners in crime but maybe something . . . more.

They had met years prior in a shared class on psychology. And he didn't want to say it was love at first sight but- it was definitely a lasting first impression.

He knew from early on that he held interest there. An interest that was built upon by the constant joint study sessions and realization that they also held numerous moral similarities. They were just pursuing them in different ways. She wanted to be a lawyer and he wanted to be a detective. Quite often he'd make the joke that they'd be an unstoppable pair in law enforcement; jokes that deep down held a hint of seriousness that, at the time, he hoped she didn't notice.

The truth was much harder to swallow. It had come like a bucket of ice, cold water dumped over his head. It felt like a slap to his face. A stone, hard slap of reality. His subtly backfired or rather- his lack of action did. Because again, how could he be mad when he never made his desires known?

He was a real coward. He never could bring himself to confess no matter how often the thought occurred to him. The excuse being- Ran had never gave any indication that she felt the same. Shinichi didn't want to ruin the strong bond they already had; their friendship that they had built on for years. It just wasn't worth the risk when he couldn't be confident in her answer nor her reaction.

But then she kissed him. His whole mind had shut down. And when they separated, possibilities flooded him. He could confess or was a confession really necessary at this point? Ran liked him. Ran wanted him.

That's what he first thought. So he responded. He had kissed her back. And if that already wasn't an obvious display of his feelings, he had acted like a totally catatonic fool directly afterwards.

Once they knew they were in the clear, Ran had become oddly silent. And distanced. She wouldn't meet his gaze and her cheeks were still a suspicious amount of pink. She seemed extremely fidgety to be beside him and the moment they said their goodbyes for the night, she had bolted.

Shinichi didn't know what he had been expecting exactly. An apology? Maybe even a confrontation over his obvious infatuation with her? But she had said nothing. And she had fled like the police were still chasing them.

Maybe what made it worse was that he couldn't be sure if it was because she had kissed him or, that she realized how he saw her and she panicked. Neither meant well for him. Both gave the impression that kissing him made her uncomfortable.

Shinichi wanted to punch something.

And his shirt still needed to be tucked in.

He got more than halfway of doing that before he remembered he was already home and began asking himself why exactly he was fixing it now. He had no need to do it now and grumbling irritatedly to himself, he instead began taking it off.

They didn't take on another job for almost an entire month after that. Waiting in between gigs wasn't unusual but not planning the next however, was. Normally by this point, he'd already be casing their next event. By this time he would've already consulted Ran.

He had done neither.

Instead, he went to school as normal and also continued helping Inspector Meguire when prompted. Nothing appeared different except the absence of their little side cases.

And that Ran was avoiding him.

It wouldn't of been as bad if it wasn't for their friends noticing that something was off. It also didn't help that even the media was pointing out the unusually long hiatus for the Night Baron.

"So about this . . . thing . . that's not really a thing with Mouri-san. . . Do you wanna talk about it?"

And there was his other issue. Shinichi had long given up trying to explain to Nakamichi that absolutely nothing romantic was going on between him and Ran. Now, after their earlier predicament, it became even more difficult to deny. His friend was convinced that the two were simply trying to keep it under wraps. That for some reason they didn't want anybody to know they were seeing each other. Nakamichi had already switched to asking why exactly Mouri-san wanted to hide things because he was confident the two were already together and that there was no way Shinichi would be the one wanting to hide it.

Grudgingly, Shinichi wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that last comment. Deeming that Nakamichi was correct and there was absolutely no way he'd want to hide the fact they were dating, Shinichi decided to keep his mouth shut. If they were dating, he wouldn't want to hide it. If they were dating, he'd walk home with her instead of his dork of a friend. If they were dating, he wouldn't have to explain why she suddenly decided to drink from his drink at a group study session. If they were dating, it would've been his idea to kiss the life out of her while running from the police. If they were dating-

Hand flying to his head, he could feel the strands of his hair getting scrunched between his fingers. And just as quickly as the tangent had started in his head, it stopped. As if the only thing keeping it all together was his hand against his head.

What was he thinking? He mentally hissed at himself as his teeth clenched. Entertaining Nakamichi's story. He was spiraling in his own thoughts and elaborating an idea that had not, and by the looks of it, would not be happening. Ran and him hadn't even spoken properly to each other since the last job. If they did, it was curt, in passing, or in the presence of someone else. Meaning it was a guarantee they could not discuss anything that had happened- her actions nor his seemingly obvious to him confession. Which all he could do was assume that was her intention.

He wanted to pull his hair from his scalp, it was so frustrating. Was he supposed to take this as a rejection? Was he not worth the time to say she wasn't interested directly to his face? Or did she think he would not accept her refusal? Did she think that low of him? He wouldn't lie- he liked her a lot. The rejection would hurt but they could at least be friends still. She didn't need to run from him as if he had the plague. Shinichi swore he could see the panic in her face anytime she happened to stumble upon him unexpectedly.

The space that stretched between them seemed to be widening. And worried the gap would become much too big to mend, Shinichi did the only thing he could do.

He found them another job.

At first, his intentions had been different. He had wanted to use this as a way to get her to talk to him; to address what exactly happened between them almost a month ago. If it was on a job, that was a guarantee they would have a moment alone. But at the realization of how that would probably make Ran feel- he paused. He would be cornering her. And that realization made him wince internally.

Shinichi didn't want Ran to feel trapped. He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't talk to him anymore just because she didn't want him the same way. They could be friends still. He wanted that more than anything. The rest, he could learn to deal with. He was well aware more than anybody about how kind Ran was. Her silence was most likely her way of sparing his feelings and easing her guilt about not returning his affections. She didn't need to feel guilt though. She wasn't obligated to feel any certain type of way. Ran didn't owe him anything regardless of how much he wanted it.

If he had considered it, he knew Ran must've come to the same conclusion- that he was trying to force her to talk. It would likely explain why she took her time responding to his invitation of working again. Her response had come in the middle of the night when he must've been dead asleep. Shinichi had only noticed the text message after turning his alarm off that morning.

Shinichi hated to think it, but Ran's presence- in a roundabout way- likely did more harm than good for his well being. He had already gotten a little risker the more jobs he took on. He acted rash and with no regard for his own safety after a certain point. Once Ran's presence in the form of an accomplice was assured, the possibilities became endless. And so did the risk. If Ran hadn't been there backing him, he surely would've been done for numerous times. He knew that. But that was also why he even attempted those risks.

Having their first real interaction since their last job being another mission, was a mistake. Not addressing what had happened between them before starting this, was a mistake. He acknowledged that when Ran still wouldn't even look at him directly. She definitely made sure to keep her distance as well.

Shinichi had already decided before meeting up that he would not be mentioning 'that job'. It wouldn't be right and it wouldn't be fair of him to try that. Clearly however, Ran hadn't grasped that yet. Any moment he would be about to start talking, she would tense. As if preparing herself for the inevitable.

That meant she knew this could've been a perfect moment for him to question her. She knew that, yet she came anyway. Not even the possible awkward conversation of unrequited feelings would she leave him to fend for himself. She had started joining him on these jobs to defend him in the first place. Whether she didn't want him the same or not, it was still nice to know that at least that wouldn't change.

He just wished that she would relax. There was no way for him to tell her he wouldn't talk about it without actually bringing it up. By the time she might've understood that, they had already put their 'plan' into motion. If it could even be called that. How could they plan when neither could even look the other in the face let alone have a conversation?

This whole night was a bad idea. Shinichi had the feeling throughout the night and as things progressed, it only got worse. Why would he even think this was a good idea? Any person with half a brain would've just dodged the bullet and asked to have the conversation. He had already come to terms in his head that clearly she didn't want him that way. He knew that. Her avoidance spoke louder than anything she could ever tell him. Yet he also knew, hearing it aloud and in the open provided a confirmation her silence didn't give.

Shinichi needed to hear it; aloud. Regardless if deep down he already knew. He needed it. If anything for his piece of mind and for closure. He had pined for her for a long time. Moving on would not be easy. It would take time. But the process wouldn't begin until she gave her refusal outright.

Having all of this sit on him, literally weighing down on his mind, just before a job was dumb. Her presence was only making it more difficult as was her refusal to even properly acknowledge him. He wasn't doing much better, he'd admit. But he had tried to bridge that gap and Ran wasn't reaching from her end.

How Ran felt was everything to him. Shinichi didn't want his presence to be uncomfortable for her. He was doing everything- even down to the plan- to show it was okay. She didn't have to feel the same way. It was fine. He would be fine.

Where as normally they would walk in as a couple when it came to balls and galas, he decided they could work this one a little more separately. Shinichi was doing everything he could possibly think of, to show her that he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And after the revelation a month ago, pretending to be his wife would surely do that.

Ran only got more tense. And that only made him more nervous. Neither a good sign when communication and teamwork was the most important aspect to be able to successfully carry out these jobs. That should've been the biggest indicator that once again, this was a bad idea.

He messed up. He knew that. Even in the moment when he forcibly shoved that guy away from her, he knew he was the one at fault. There was no reason for his actions. No logical one anyway. The only thing that powered him in the moment was jealousy. It fueled and burned through him stronger than anything he could remember. Nothing had ever cut off his thought process so quickly. Not even the time Ran kissed him.

But this was not what he'd been expecting when Ran said she would 'make an opening for him'. The sensation that sunk deep into the pit of his stomach was similar to being sick. That was the feeling he got when watching Ran disappear into a hallway with the 'owner' of this gem.

He didn't trust it. Not the look in the guy's eye nor the impatient tug he seemed to give Ran. Shinichi didn't trust any of it. And no, it had nothing to do with his jealousy. It was for Ran's safety that he followed them; that instead of going the clear way his partner indicated, that he trailed behind the two out of sight.

Nothing to do with his personal emotions at all.

Peeking around the corner to find his partner pushed against a door about to be kissed however was, again, nothing he had been expecting. Yet the reaction was instantaneous.

This anger he felt was different. This was a different kind of rage that reared its head forward. A nasty emotion he had never experienced so strongly. With a mixture of fury, possessiveness, and just about anything in-between, before his brain could even catch up and actually think- he was already across the hall and shoving the man roughly.

Ran seemed as surprised as the guy. Her eyes had bulged when suddenly the arms that had been bracing her weight disappeared. She stumbled in her satin dress but Shinichi was too furious to help her straighten. His attention was too focused on the creep that was still on the floor, mostly in shock. Shinichi had pushed him hard. Probably too hard if it was able to knock the guy off his feet but in the moment, he could care less. There was nothing that could be said to him then that would make him believe this guy didn't deserve it. He had been touching Ran. That was enough for him.

After finally realizing what just happened, the guy's eyes shot up to look at him angrily. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly what made the guy do it. He honestly thought he just initiated a fist brawl. But likely taking one look at the simple fury on his face, the guy stood up while wiping the blood off his bottom lip; the anger gone from his eyes and instead a smirk that was anything but happy. With a promise to get security for the both of them, the guy exited the hall from where they had come.

They couldn't let him go; not if they wanted their plan to succeed. Both of them had to know that. But neither of them did a thing till he was long out of sight.

It was Ran that reacted first. It was his turn to be shoved as she pushed her hands against his chest angrily.

"What are you doing?" She questioned him furiously. And from that alone he realized the shove was more out of panicked frustration than any real anger.

Shinichi was fine with that. He was sure he had enough anger for the both of them.

"No- what are you doing?" His voice was incredulous just like his face.

"I thought my job. You said to get close to him. You told me to make sure he was distracted."

"I didn't mean like that."

Ran sighed as if she were exhausted. "Well what did you mean, Shinichi?"

"I-I don't know- just anything except making out with him," he snapped and in his frustration he couldn't help but stutter.

"Why are you getting so upset?"

It was clear to him then before she even spoke that Ran understood he was mad. He knew that when her eyes softened towards him. But from her question, she clearly couldn't understand why he was mad. And if possible that was making him angrier. Because from his last sentence alone, it should be obvious why he was upset. If they took away everything that had happened between them a month ago, with his words alone that he spoke tonight, her answer was still right in front of her. He wasn't understanding why she just wasn't getting it.

"Y-you can't do something like that!"

"And why can't I? I swear you don't make any sense to me, Shinichi. I was only doing what I thought you wanted."

She was only trying to make his job easier for him. And if he weren't so heated he'd recognize that what she had been trying to do really would've made the job easier. That disgusting lowlife would've been so distracted. But to achieve that in that way was unacceptable to him.

"Why would I want you to kiss him?"

"Why would you not?" she countered.

His eyes blazed. "Are you actually serious?" he asked incredulously.

"You're mad." The way she stated it- it wasn't a question. It was a fact. And he was mad. He was so furious it was almost insane how personally he had taken this. Because this wasn't acting for him. It had never been. He never had to pretend to feel more for her. This was something he wanted. Not just on jobs but all the time. Him and Ran together. Him and Ran being a couple.

And he knew he had no right to be so upset. She never gave any indication that this would happen outside of their side jobs. He was the one that was turning it into something it wasn't meant to be- a reality. But she could at least do him the courtesy of not acting clueless. He had clearly kissed her that night without any other intention except that he simply wanted to. She knew that. She wouldn't of avoided him in their regular daily lives if that weren't the case.

He needed to step back. It was too soon to come back to this when clearly he wasn't over it. There wouldn't be another job until he could get over his feelings for her. And if that never happened, so be it. He was done with this conversation.

Shaking his head, Shinichi went to walk away. "Forget it."

Ran being quicker than him however, shot forward and gripped his arm. "How am I supposed to 'forget it'? You're obviously angry. Just tell me why." And for the first time in this conversation, he saw that she was actually beginning to get mad.

He had already decided what he would do though and instead he just shook his head again. "If you don't get it on your own, then it doesn't matter," he responded calmly.

Ran obviously rejected that idea.

"It matters to me! I played my part in your plan. I was going to do something I didn't even want to do-"

He wanted to argue that he never forced her to join him as the Night Baron. But it didn't matter now because this would be the last time.

"-so you could grab a stupid rock-"

That rock could sell for over 500,000 yen, he wanted to say but instead he remained stoic.

"-and you just storm in here like a jealous boyfriend-"

He was jealous. But he wasn't going to engage in this any further.

"-which we're not together-"

They're not. He knew that. He would work on it.

"-which you made that perfectly clear in your plan-"

He knew they weren't together. That's why he switched up their usual plan-

...

"What?!"

Shinichi was actually stunned into silence. There wasn't a lot that could do that for him either. But to bring up the plan that he made specifically to make her comfortable and complain about it, had him even more aggravated. She seemed like she wanted to continue but he wasn't about to allow that to slide.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he finally cut her off, not even paying attention to what she was currently saying. His earlier idea to just let this whole thing go, vanished as quickly as it had come.

Probably thinking she said too much, her tone got quiet and her face went pink.

Regardless of her obvious embarrassment however, she didn't try to take back what she said. "There's other ways to say you're not interested besides pushing me to the side for some side act. You could've told me how you felt. I wouldn't of left you to do this alone," she said with that hint of frustration still there.

But Shinichi was still stuck. Because now nothing was making sense to him. After all this time and he thought he finally figured out why Ran was avoiding him before, what she was saying now completely contradicted all of that.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he flat out asked.

A frown marred her features. "You know what we usually do as these kinds of parties. You know what . . acts work better here. And you changed that on purpose," she accused.

"You avoided me!" was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

"Only because I didn't know what to do!" she raised her voice with a completely flustered face now.

"How about talking to me-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Immediately their shouting was cut off; both of them jerking in shock before going on the defensive. They were still on a job after all. But once they saw just who it was that had the audacity to interrupt their argument, they both froze with widened eyes and slackened jaws.

Kaito Kid didn't seem to care if he was intruding or not. For some reason, he looked frustrated as he stormed out behind a pillar.

"Are you two actually kidding me?" And the other pair watched as he came closer without a care.

"Some of us are actually trying to work. I've literally been sitting alone in that room waiting and neither of you came to do anything. I could've bailed an hour ago while you guys were griping during a heist. Not to mention the guy I had to knock unconscious on my way over here," he jabbed a thumb behind him and lo and behold the guy he had shoved to the ground was currently leaning unconscious against the far wall. But the Phantom Thief didn't seem to be through.

"Which- how has this not been resolved yet?"

Shinichi and Ran both flushed scarlet and taking that as his answer, Kid threw his hands up in frustration.

"I swear there has been absolutely no progression between the two of you since the first time I saw you. Do you have any idea how obnoxious  that is for a bystander?"

"She avoided you because she kissed you and actually liked it," he pointed a finger at Ran who flushed brighter at his words before turning it to Shinichi next who went pale, "and he changed the plan because he thought you avoiding him meant you didn't like it!"

"Do you see how easy that was? Is there anything that you two do not understand?"

At their mutual silence, Kaitou Kid shook his head aggravatedly before spinning around, his cape billowing out behind him. "And you guys are my rivals?" he grumbled bitterly under his breath. "You guys better have this sorted out before next time."

Even long after Kid left, the two remained standing there completely frozen. They both were staring at where the thief had made his exit but neither seemed to want to break the silence first. Neither wanted to be the first to confirm or deny the accusations thrown at them.

Instead, realizing that they were still very much in the open with an unconscious body and that this job was definitely ruined, Shinichi turned a glance towards Ran. Unsurprisingly she was avoiding looking at him again and her face was still insanely red. But his was too and if it were for the same reason. . . then they had a lot to discuss.

"Do-" he started before cutting himself off. He wasn't sure if now was the right time when they were standing in the hall of one of their heists after having a shouting match. But when her eyes flit up to his quickly at the sound of his voice and saw they looked hopeful, he didn't care.

"Do you want to get something to eat. . . with me?" And then he cleared his throat realizing how informal that sounded and that he better be clear because obviously she didn't go off hints.

"Would like you to go out to dinner with me?"

Her face still impossibly red, she bit her lip before nodding slowly. "I'd like that."

oOo

Months later, Shinichi found himself at another gala. It was the usual type of party he hated attending but he'd have to admit as his eyes followed one figure across the room, this one wasn't too bad.

Until it got closer and certain features became clearer and he realized this was actually the worst one yet.

"Ah, Shin-chan, did you see they have a chocolate fountain?" she beamed excitedly before reaching for him.

Immediately he side stepped the arm that went to link with his own making 'Ran' pout at him. Shinichi didn't care until he noticed the confused stare from across him. He had stated this was his fiancé after all and froze when he caught their puzzled looks.

This time, when she went to link her arm with his, grudgingly, he allowed it. No matter if he was cringing so badly inside, his teeth gnashing together irately. "Yes. I saw," he bit out. And barely getting the whole statement out, his champagne flute he held was snatched from his other hand that wasn't currently wrapped around 'Ran'.

Shinichi had to grit his teeth as he watched her swallow practically the whole thing in one gulp. With a cheeky grin he was sure was meant to seem mockingly innocent considering the actual Ran had done this numerous times before, she held the glass out to him with the one measly sip that was left in it as an offering.

"Keep it," he bit out still trying to keep his cool. There were people still watching them after all. And shrugging she downed the rest of it.

Probably noticing the peculiar tension between the two, it was quite easy to dismiss themselves. And as soon as they were somewhere deemed a little private, Shinichi turned angrily.

"Where is she?"

And mocking him further, violet eyes widened comically as brows scrunched in faux confusion. "Where is who?"

The voice was exact. Purely feminine and a complete copy.

But it wasn't real. It was fake and he could tell.

Or rather he noticed the obvious struggle for Kid to keep his knees bent. It was quite embarrassing and even more infuriating to notice that his girlfriend whom he had been trying to ogle had in fact not actually been his girlfriend. But in actuality a hack of a magician doing his best to maintain the height and appearance of a young woman.

More mortified that he believed for a moment this was his girlfriend enough to ogle her, Shinichi had no patience. Fully irritated now, he gripped Kid's arm furiously while snapping in a harsh whisper, "Where is Ran?" The grip only loosened when he realized they were still technically in the open and he forced a small grin at anybody that looked their way.

"Calm down," the still female voice tried to wave him off. "We had a small issue so we had to do a little switch."

Doing his best to ignore that this wasn't actually Ran though it was her voice, Shinichi prodded further. "What do you mean a 'small issue'? What happened?"

"Well something didn't exactly go according to plan and since we both agree your girlfriend has monster strength, I decided as a last resort we can rely on that," the imposter smiled happily.

He was so proud of himself.

Not really sure if he wants to know what that means, Shinichi began heading towards the hall where he knew Ran would be then. "And you just left her there alone."

"What?" Kid pouted. "You don't have confidence in me, Shinichi?" They were in the hall now and Kid was trailing behind him still in that irritating disguise. He had given up on trying to maintain a shortened height and was walking normally, but out of all the things Shinichi could pick apart about the disguise, it was something else that disturbed him more.

"Do not do that," he spun around angrily. It was one thing to call him 'Shin-chan'. Ran would never call him that except for that single time before. But to speak to him how she actually does- it was starting to freak him out.

Kid frowned for real this time. "Don't do what?"

"Stop sounding like her!" He snapped uncomfortably.

Seeming to finally understand, Kid shrugged before saying in his own voice, "Fine."

But that was just as bad. Hearing that voice with Ran's face.

"Never mind- that's worse," Shinichi sighed heavily and fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just stop talking."

This was the first and only time they'd ever team up again. Shinichi couldn't believe they managed to talk him into it in the first place. They had been right. There was no point in the two thieves fighting over who stole the ring first when it was clear the goal was the same. Not like last time when the two men both stumbled into a treasure's room two weeks ago wanting to steal the same thing. And after they managed to almost both get caught last time due to them arguing, Ran had been the one to present this idea.

But Shinichi couldn't get over what the dunce had accused him of. 'Stealing his thunder'- as if they were competing to be the most wanted criminal in the fraud department. He wasn't trying to steal anything. As far as he was concerned, Kid could carry all media attention he wanted. Shinichi would never try to take that. But he couldn't help it if fans of theirs constantly argued over who the best thief actually was.

And yes, amazingly that was a thing.

Shinichi resented that though. He was no thief. And after watching him a little more closely, Shinichi realized that just maybe . . . Kid wasn't either.

Neither one wanted the treasure for themselves. Besides Kid's weird rule that he needed to 'look' at the gem before they decided anything. It was clear the Phantom Thief was looking for a treasure and once he found it, he wouldn't be giving it back. Shinichi wondered if that was likely the reasoning for what Kaito Kid was doing in the first place. He had never thought much of the guy. He had always just assumed that he was some mindless criminal that flaunted and attempted to disguise what he was- a criminal- behind obnoxious magic acts. Because that's all they were. Even if sometimes it took a bit to realize how the thief had done it, he always figured it out. There was always an explanation. And that's why Shinichi didn't understand nor did he care to learn just why Kid paraded around like a magician.

But now working with him, it annoyed him, but his curious mind made it easy for him to at least attempt to analyze his behavior.

Kid was doing this for a reason. A reason other than crime at least. He was positive Kid would never try to actually kill or harm a cop or bystander. He always took the treasure and bailed. And every single time, he would read the next day that the treasure had magically been 'returned' to the rightful owner.

Kaito Kid never held onto a single gem he stole. Not a single time.

It was difficult for him to admit, but Ran was right. The two were very similar. Even if they carried it out differently or if their way of doings things were the opposite of the others, their outcome was always the same. Shinichi wasn't foolish enough to believe they had the same goal; that they did this for the same reason. It was clear that Kid was looking for something and once he found it, he would not be returning it. But though he would never say it aloud, the Magician was not a bad person. He always wanted to believe there was no good enough reason to break the law. There was nothing that warranted another person committing a crime. But if that were actually true- then what were he and Ran doing? He wanted to believe they were doing the right thing. And so grudgingly, he accepted that about the Phantom Thief.

Things were very rarely black and white.

oOo

"Who was your nice date?"

The soft voice called over to him gently from up ahead on the path. Recognition immediately pulled his attention away from his feet he had been watching dejectedly; his hands stuffed inside his suit pockets. The words that filtered in however had him perking up.

Supressing a grin he shrugged. "Just some girl I met in college psychology."

Ran blushed slightly but smiled all the same. It wasn't till he reached her that she began walking beside him. "She seemed to be dressed a bit risqué though, don't you think?"

Shinichi peeked over at her as she stayed beside him. She wasn't looking back but he could only assume she was wondering how he liked her dress.

Which he refused to judge after having only seen Kaito Kid wearing it.

Referring back to her question, he snorted. "Probably because the wrong person was in it."

He would've much rather seen the real Ran wearing it.

Finally breaking composure- stopping whatever roundabout way she was trying to ask, she stopped walking. "But it was a perfect copy!" she protested pouting and Shinichi had to wonder what exactly she was after here. He had a feeling he'd be in trouble no matter the answer he gave her.

But perfect? Perfect clone, his ass.

"There are just some things that can't be copied," he supplied simply even though in his mind, he knew exactly what parts of Ran couldn't be imitated.

Ran was not content with his response. If anything, she almost became suspicious as he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "Like what?"

Realizing he might've steered this conversation somewhere he definitely didn't want, Shinichi swallowed hard when she raised a brow.

"What did he not copy?" she asked outright.

If she wants an honest explanation . . .

Sighing, he looked away, turning his nose up. "Your chest does not sit that high. Not only does he not have any, but your breasts are large. He most likely had to make them rest higher to disguise that. And though your thighs do have quite a bit of muscle, they are much softer than what he presented- not to mention he was actually walking around with his knees bent slightly to accommodate the height difference."

Ran didn't respond right away. Her silence dragged on and eventually he became nervous. He definitely confessed too much. Even if she was his girlfriend, surely it would make her uncomfortable to realize he watched her that intently. And on every little detail as well. But Shinichi couldn't help but to be insulted that she said Kid was an exact copy. That would never be possible. Ran could not be replicated. Especially when Shinichi could pick out so many things that the magician had gotten wrong in his disguise. Of course the detective knew there was only so much one could do in a disguise. But still, Shinichi was too much of a perfectionist and Ran was perfect in his eyes.

Suddenly his arm was being gripped gently and Shinichi blinked oddly when Ran slowly wrapped her arms around his. At first he thought she would be mad. He had openly admitted to ogling her. And if she asked him to be more honest, he would have to say he'd been watching her long before they started dating.

"Thank you," she said softly, startling him by breaking the silence and catching him off guard with her response. The confusion must've clearly been on his face because she turned red again. Her smile didn't drop though.

"It's nice to know that you could tell it wasn't me. . . that all you see if me."

They had begun walking again and Shinichi couldn't help but think he definitely dodged a bullet. But he would've been lying if he said anything else. And though it made him anxious to know that all his thoughts and feelings were out and on the table, he was sick of hiding them. Ran deserved to know exactly how he thought about her. She deserved to know just how much he noticed her and for how long he wanted to be with her.

And if he was rewarded for honestly. . .

"I guess that means you'll have to wear that dress again so I can actually give you an opinion on it," he said nonchalantly even though his gaze continued to rest ahead of him. He hoped it came out like a suggestion because he really hadn't gotten to see her in it. Currently she was wearing jeans and coat after having to give up the dress for Kid's impromptu disguise.

"Can't. I'm pretty sure Kid went home in it," Ran innocently said completely missing why he wanted her to wear it again and bursting his bubble in the process.

Deflating, he changed his mind. "He really is a thief," he grumbled.

Ran raised a brow. "And then what are you, Night Baron?"

"Alright," he said sternly while narrowing his eyes and she began giggling.

Clenching her arms much more firmly around his arm, he felt her chest press against it even more making him gulp. "Don't worry. I have something else I can wear just for you," she whispered.

[delirioushrimp]

Frozen Fairytale (DemonYB AU)

This is like the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever done hhhhh-

Once more, this story is here because I am a huge simp for @harbingers-appointed ‘s  amazing AU !

Vee I hope you know I would die for you !

Plot changed three times during the writing process, help-

He senses their pain before he hears their scream. It’s a cry of agony, distress, begging for help and he feels it in his bones as though it was his own suffering. It travels through his being like a shot of electricity; fast, violent, and dizzying. It takes him a few seconds to recover from the pain and as soon as he does, a feeling of dread unlike anything he had experienced  before fills his soul until it’s the only thing he can think about.

He rises abruptly from his desk, causing TK to flinch and look at him with a confused and fearful look. But he can’t see his tactician, can’t hear them ask if something is wrong, can’t feel the pieces of wood piercing his skin. His soul, his heart is burning a fire of horror and rage.

He almost knocks the door of its hinges as he desperately tries to reach them through the pain.

“Darling ! Darling where are you ?!”

Long agonizing seconds pass -where he imagines the worst has already happened-

pleasepleasepleaseplease-

“Sa…mael…”

Their voice is too weak, too frail and distressed for him to relax. And they only used his real name when…

“Tell me where you are !”

He doesn’t mean the harshness, the sternness in his tone, centuries of cold authority coursing through his veins and the panic rending him unable to control it. He hears a gasp before they answer once more.

“…Water…lake…blue…”

“What-“

“So…cold…”

His eyes widen furthermore at their words, his feet carrying him to the only place they could be as terror -the kind he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years- takes hold of him. He doesn’t notice the looks of bewilderments of his kind as he runs past them, quickly turning into pure fear when they feel the murderous aura of their King. Most of them have never witnessed it and to endure its overwhelming presence like this, even for a second bring them to their knees. He doesn’t notice any of them as he runs like he never has, ignoring the tremendous pain his heels bring him.

“Darling-“

“It hurts…it hurts so much. I-don’t think I can hold for much longer…”

They sound on the verge of fainting, and it feels as though he might be dying.

“Don’t ! Don’t let go ! Please ! I’m on my way !”

“…Samael…I’m so tired…”

���Please ! Please just a little longer !”

He never begged, the King of Hell doesn’t beg for anything or to anyone. He didn’t beg when God casted him aside, didn’t beg when he was stripped of his title, of his wings, or when he felt their ghostly presence for a hundred years to come. He never begged in his life, when he wants something, he simply takes it without asking, because he doesn’t need anyone’s permission. He doesn’t need the princes’ or TK, and he especially doesn’t need permission from that pathetic God.

And yet in that moment, running in the frozen parts of his kingdom, he is willing to. He’s willing to beg anyone he crosses to save his beloved; he’s willing to kneel in front of God if it means he can get back the wings which were so painfully teared apart from him, even for just a minute, anything so he can reach them sooner, faster even by a few seconds. Anything for the pain to stop. He briefly looks up at the sky.

You knew this would happen, didn’t you ?!

He doesn’t expect an answer, and he doesn’t get one but doesn’t miss how the harsh winds seem to be whispering words of mockery to his ears. But the sound of their voice brings him back to the moment.

“My King…”

He feels their mind sleeping farther away, to a place he can’t reach. The words are spoken softly and lovingly but with a hint of regret.

“I’m sorry…”

“DON’T !”

But the connection is lost, quickly followed by a loud splashing sound and his soul shatters into pieces.  A scream of agony echo through the frozen lands, the wild and agonizing cry of a frenzied beast, chilling anyone who hears it to the bone.

He starts running again, this time, pleading, again and again to find them. The smell of iron hits him, and he feels madness takes over his mind.

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

As soon as your bruised and frozen fingers let go of the small rock, you feel it. The long, tortuous howl of his voice ringing in your soul reminding you of his hellish nature. It tears you apart and for the briefest moment, you wish you could have said something more. Then the water takes you.

It doesn’t hurt as much as you expected it, the pain only lasts a minute. A minute where your lungs desperately try to breath into the frigid ocean that surrounds you, burning every cell of your being. But then nothing. Only silence and the slow descent of your body towards the unknown, and you briefly wonder if there is an end to this endless ocean. It’s peaceful, quiet, and painless. A calm, soft blue surrounds you, reminding you of his eyes. It lulls and soothes you.

So beautiful…

Everything is numb and you feel your eyes growing heavy but you’re not scared. You’re not scared because you remember his words upon your arrival.

Death is something you will never have to fear my dear, for I am the only one who controls it here.

A small smile draws on your lips despite the cold.

Then it’s alright, I’ll suffer a thousand pains if it means staying with you.

He will find you; you know he will, he always does. You just have to wait a bit. You close your eyes and fall asleep into the icy blankets of water. Death will not find you, the Light Bringer will.

-------‐----------------------------------------------‐-------------

The first time you wake up, it’s to the sound of crying and pleading. Someone is begging for you to open your eyes, but the task proves to be impossible. The sorrow and the lament in their voice break your heart, despite not being able to recognize who it is. You vaguely hear the person call for your name, again and again between their sobs. You wish you could comfort whoever is uttering your name with such anguish and desperation. But instead, you fall back into the arms of Morpheus.

Who are you ?

The second time you wake up, it’s to the smell of blood. The stench invades your mind, overwhelming all your senses until it’s the only thing you can perceive. You want to gag, yet your body seems unresponsive to even your most basic instincts, as if frozen in ice. But behind that heavy and violent scent, you catch a hint of something familiar. Something ancient, powerful, and pleasant, it comforts you. Instinctively, you cling to that aroma acting as a lifesaver and slumber takes over you once more.

I know you.

The third time you wake up, it’s to the taste of something bitter running down your throat. It tastes like one of those herbal teas from back home, but far worse. It burns and stings your tongue; makes you sick to your stomach, and you panic. You trash around, try to scream but no sound leaves you. Your crisis is interrupted when you feel something soft brush against your lips, something sweet and gentle, like a candy melting in your mouth. It’s enough for you to fall back asleep.

Who am I to you ?

The fourth time you wake up, it’s to a warm touch. Something -or rather someone- is holding your arm tightly, though not enough to hurt. You still struggle to open your eyes, but you can feel the way their much bigger hand delicately holds yours, running soothing circles on your palm. Then you feel a warm breath on your fingers and a pair of lips brushing against them in such a tender and caring way it brings tears to your eyes. You doze off, feeling loved and protected.

I’ve never felt so cherished before.

The fifth time you wake up, it’s to a sight you never believed to witness. A large figure kneeling on their knees by your side, head resting on your chest, through some miracle, the long horns barely scrap your skin. Pale moonlight rays shine on them- no him, allowing you to see a pained expression and the bags under his eyes, a sight which immediately strikes you with grief. He looks absolutely miserable. And yet, you find a certain beauty to it. Is it because you know he would only kneel for you ?

My King…

As if on cue, a gasp reaches your ears before the head lying on your chest shots up, so fast it almost knocks you out. You curse out loud in fear, but the sound quickly dies in your throat the moment you notice the look in his eyes.

First you see shock, confusion, and disbelief following one another in rapid motion before relief takes over. His eyes, his smile, it’s like he just found the greatest treasure in all three worlds. It reminds you of the first time you met, except he doesn’t hold it back. The raw devotion and adoration in his gaze, it’s almost too much for your heart to handle.

You try to reach for him with your hand but a sharp pain in your shoulder forces you to withdraw your arm, you hiss at the sensation and he notices it. His expression immediately falls and is replaced by sorrow and guilt. You can see it in those endless pools of blue, you can see how he’s blaming himself for something he isn’t responsible for, you can see how terrified he is of you hating and discarding him, and most of all, you can see the suffering he endured during your short absence. You’ve never witnessed something like this before. You’d seen him irritated, disappointed, tired, or dejected even.

But this, this was something you hated seeing on him. This expression of utter defeat and grief does not suit him at all.

Carefully, you lift your other -and fortunately non-injured- arm and with as much softness as you can muster, brush your hand against his cheek. He jolts from the touch as if he expected a much harsher reaction but just as quickly, leans into your touch and closes his eyes. He’s trembling, still afraid you’re only indulging him one last time before rejecting  him completely. It surprises you, how easily you can read him when you could barely decipher his true intentions not so long ago.

You  push back the blankets and slowly shifts your body until your feet dangle from the bed, caging him between your legs, but his eyes are still shut.

“My King…” you whisper in a raspy voice, “open your eyes please.” The shaking grows in intensity. “For me…”

Your last words act as spell pulling him out of his misery. His gaze is solely focused on you, and even after all this time, it still takes your breath away. How could such a powerful, beautiful and infinite being look at you -a mere mortal soul- with such intensity you feel like the only person existing in all three realms ? You still don’t understand, and you don’t know if you ever will.

Does it even matter ?

He who has everything, looks like he might crumble at any moment. The embodiment of pride, crawling at your feet, begging for your love. Has he ever shown such vulnerability to anyone else before ? The selfish part of you wishes he hasn’t, the greedy and possessive part that wants all of him for you and only you. His mind, his body, his heart, and his soul, all for you, just like you belong to him.

Comfort him, cherish him, accept him, love him

“My love,” you call for him, and the distance between the two of you shortens, you feel his hands roam your body, desperately clinging to you. “My star, my light, my savior, my fated one…”

Each appellation has him growing closer and closer until his forehead touches yours, his breathing is erratic, his eyes search for any trace of resentment on your face, hands encircling your waist is a tight -but non-painful- grip.

“None of this was your fault-“

“Don’t go to them !”

You speak at the same time, but you stop at the frantic tone of his voice. You frown, confused, waiting for further explanations.

“I know I- failed to protect you !” he admits in the most pathetic tone you’ve ever heard. “But please, don’t leave me !” he begs, and your mind is sent into a spiral of worry as you try to come up with a way to calm him down. “Don’t- don’t choose them !”

Who are you even talking about ?!

“They- he will only hurt and use you !”

His words hit you like a bucket of ice- no it’s worse than that, colder than the waters you drowned in, colder than the harsh winds digging into your skin when you were clinging to that rock for dear life. You feel your blood boil and freeze at the same time, because you understand who he is talking about.

The genuine deep-rooted fear in his tone fills you with both dread and fury. It terrifies you because it means this demon, no-this entity is far worse and far more powerful than you thought, enough for the King of Hell to be afraid of it. It enrages you because it means they hurt him before, most likely tortured and let him bleed out like the sadistic creature they are. Your interactions with them had given you a hunch about their true nature but this is so much worse, much more horrible than you’d anticipated.

Theyhurtyoutheyhurtyoutheyhurtyou-

You want to scream, you want to get up from this bed, you want to find this smug bastard -it wouldn’t take long, they’re always around the corner- and strangle them. You don’t remember the last time you felt such wrath against someone. But you can’t. You can’t because you can barely move without your body hurting but most of all, because you just know they would relish in your anger and you wouldn’t be able to bear that infuriating self-satisfied and arrogant smile.

The grip around your waist suddenly tightens and when your eyes focus on him again, you realize your mistake. He noticed your anger, and thought it was directed at him. His pupils are blown wide, and he starts shaking again, mumbling the same sentence over and over again like a broken record.

“don’tleavemedon’tleavemedon’tleaveme-“

“Sweetheart-“

“This will never happen again, I promise !” he interrupts you.

“Dear-“ you try again, but to no avail.

“I’ll never leave you, never again ! “ His voice turns dark, with a hint of madness to it. “Will always stay with you, always by your side. Always, always, always, always…”

“Love please-“

“You know I would do anything for you, right ?” His eyes are blown so wide you can barely see his pupils, smile stretched to the point it might tear his face apart. The raw possessiveness and despair, they make him look completely mad. “Tell me, tell me what should I do to earn back your love. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Just tell me.”

You stare at him in stunned silence and in that moment, you know if you asked for him to set his kingdom ablaze, he’d only ask you in how many days. He had told you so in the past, but you’d only taken it as another dramatic display to entertain you. Now you realize how serious he was and to your shock, you’re not as frightened as you should be. In fact…

His eyes twitches and a trail of cobalt blood starts to run down his chin from how hard he’s biting his lips. His voice turns to hysterics and you think you see something running down his cheeks.

“Just tell me !  There must be something ! Tell me please, tellmetellmetellmetellme-“

“Samael, enough !” you end up shouting at him.

He immediately stills, from the tone of your voice or the use of his name, you can’t tell. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, not when he was breaking down in front of you, but he wouldn’t have stopped otherwise. And hearing him so hopeless and frantic was too much for you to handle.

Ignoring the pain in your left shoulder, you reach for him again, this time with both hands and he watches you lovingly cup his face in your hands with awe. His gaze darts back and forth between your face and your hands in utter bewilderment, like a child trying to solve a puzzle. You almost laugh at the thought. Instead, you lock eyes with him and speak firmly.

“I’ll tell you what I want.” He perks up, eagerly waiting for your wish. “I want you to stop blaming yourself for something that’s not your fault.” You see him open his mouth, most likely to protest but you don’t give him the chance to. “I want you to remember I don’t hate you; I’ve never hated you and never will. “ You sense him slightly relaxes. “I want you to understand I will never leave you, not for them, and not for anyone else, never. “ You pause, watching the blue returning to his eyes.

His expression holds trust, hope and an innocence you didn’t believe possible for him to have, he looks so much younger. For a moment, you think you’re gazing at the benevolent, bright, and loyal angel he once was, the devoted hand of God. You remember the feather he gifted you on the first night you kissed his scars, a pure and immaculate white, softer than the most delicate silk existing on earth and more valuable than any jewel in the world. He had looked so happy, so earnest, when he gave it to you. And now, you can so easily picture thousands of those same feathers linked together to form majestic wings. The vision has you smiling softly. But a question, one you had avoided asking him ever since you realized his feelings for you were genuine burns at the corners of your mind once more. Laced with such pride, envy, and selfishness you never felt brave enough to ask.

Do you love me more than you used to love God ?

Two warm, large hands covering yours bring you back to reality and the innocence vanishes, allowing for the madness to reappear once more. But his voice is steady, confident and lacks the fragility it held mere moments ago.

“God took everything from me, from the very beginning, only took and took.” You are not shocked to hear the way he spat those words, but from the fact he seems to have read your mind. “But you…” he draws out, bringing your left hand to his lips and giving a chaste kiss where your pulse lies, teeth grazing at the flesh. You feel him slowly exhale against your skin. “You keep on giving and giving. Your presence, you smile, your touch, your voice…” You feel his tail slowly making its way around your left leg as he speaks. “But I still keep wanting more of you each passing day…” His voice becomes strained with yearning and desire. “I can’t get enough; I’ll never get enough of you.”

He closes his eyes, inhales and exhales slowly, as if trying to contain his hunger and fervor for you. His breaths are the only sounds in the large room and you find some sort of peace to it. It eases your nerves, reminds that this moment is not a dreamy hallucination from your comatose state, this is real. You don’t know how long it lasts -a few seconds, a minute or an hour- until he opens his eyes again and your heartbeat becomes uncontrollable.

His pupils have turned into hearts, and although it’s not the first time, you still find yourself mesmerized by the sight. Who knew the Devil could be capable of such thing ? The vibrancy, the intensity, and the sincerity his gaze holds have you melt into him and you instinctively close your thighs tighter around him. He relishes in your actions if the soft purring you hear is anything to go by.  

“My Dear…” he fondly says before calling for your name, and you smile, loving the way it rolls on his tongue. “The dull candlelight of devotion I once felt for the one who cast me aside cannot possibly compare to the eternal flame of adoration I hold for you.”

You feel every fiber of your body burns at his confession, pure delight taking over your mind and utter bliss over your heart.  How are you supposed to respond to that ? Nothing you could say would be enough to match this. So you decide to answer in the only way you can think of. You lean in and finally close whatever distance was left between the two of you.

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou

You hope he can hear it, how much you love him, you hope he feels how your soul calls for his in desperate craving. You hope he realizes you will never stop loving him as you taste the blood and the tears on his lips. You hope he understands you would do anything for him as you feel his hands shift to grip your thighs. How could such a corrupted being taste so divine ?

You want him, you want him to touch and hold you, because you feel the most alive when he does. Hastily, you blindly reach for his long horns and smirk into the kiss when you finally grab them and without a warning, pulls him towards you. And oh, the way he moans into your mouth, it sounds heavenly. It makes you lose your mind.

Moremoremoremoremore-

You do it a second time, which causes him to growl and you revel at the feeling of his nails digging into your tender skin. It feels so good, so good to have him touch you like this. But then he breaks the kiss and you whine when he removes his hands from your legs, instead placing them on each side of your body to steady himself.

His eyes are hooded with raw desire and lust, causing a shot of electricity to travel to your core. Knowing that you’re the only one who’ll get to see him like this, the only one able to create such reactions from him fills you with unwavering pride and satisfaction.

“Darling…” he whispers in a husky, barely controlled voice. “I can’t- you’re still hurt, I-“ He hisses when you tenderly rub the base of his horns. “Ah…don’t- torture me like this.” His labored breath and the pleading in his tone only urge you to do it again. “You need to rest more before-“ You shush him with a finger against his lips.

“You’re the only one who can make the pain go away…” you trail off, noticing how close he is to give in from how tightly he’s holding the bedsheets. “My King…” you beg, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Please, I need you” you admit.

You can almost see the resolution shatters in his eyes and it’s beautiful. You feel absolutely drunk on triumph, love and euphoria, a deadly combination that drives you to feel much bolder, impudent, and confident than you should be in your condition.

He lifts you up in one, swift -although careful- movement before settling himself on the bed with you straddling his lap and hmmm you can feel how much he wants you now. In a moment of reckless bravery, you grind against him and smile smugly at the chocking sound coming from his throat. But your victory is short-lived when you feel a hot breath at the junction of your neck and your shoulder, inhaling your scent. You inhale sharply and a whimper leaves your lips when you feel his teeth -his very sharp teeth- nibble at your skin. A dark, guttural chuckle echo in the room, one filled with sinful promises of pleasure, making your body growing hotter by the second.

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it you, Darling,” he purrs in your ear, sounding very much like the embodiment of temptation and immorality most sacred texts describe him as. It drives you insane.

He never did this before, it was -almost- always him that would come to you with need and want, and of course, you never refused him. But now…

“I need-“ now look who’s struggling to form coherent sentences. You can feel him smile against your flesh like the devil he is. “I need you to touch me,” you shudder when his hands grip your thighs once more, except his hold is much more possessive than the previous one. “Hold me, fill me, mark me…” your voice becoming more strained and tense as one of his hands starts to make its way to your heated core. “I want you to fuck me until I forget the pain, and my own name…” The animalistic sound that leaves him sends goosebumps along your skin. You sigh deliriously. “I want you to worship me.”

He leaves your neck to look at you one more time before he completely loses it. You know he wants to check if you’re really sure about this, he’s done it before, and although you’ve never told him to, you know if you asked him to stop now, he would. As much as it would pain him, you know he’d never betray you like this, not only because he loves and respects you too much, but also because your Devil has standards.

When he notices no hesitation or refusal from you, a ravenous and demented smile draws on his lips as he tilts your chin with his free hand to look at you directly in the eyes. You see excitement, lust, and exhilaration in his frenzied gaze and behind it, his undying adoration.

“As you wish, dearest.”

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

You see them not too long after, when you’ve recovered enough to walk on your own, although you sustained no injury on your legs. Though you’re sure some people can tell why you couldn’t use them. The wound on your shoulder is bigger than you thought, starting from your shoulder blade, and almost reaching your hips but the pain is already manageable and you’ve been told no major organ was harmed, so there’s that. You can’t do much about the red angry scar expect apply some ointment every now and then but it’s fine, to demons, scars are not seen as ugly but rather a source of pride and a sign of survival. Not surprising, considering their King was the first to deal with the most painful ones imaginable. Very little got to see them but everyone knew the Fall had taken a lot from him.

Just like he promised, he keeps you near him at all times to the point you quickly forget the notion of personal space but you don’t complain much, considering what happened. Besides, listening to the meetings with the princes and other important figures -on his lap of course- gives you a better insight on how things operate in hell and who you need to be careful of, TK could only spend so much time explaining the basics to you with how busy they were.

All thanks to a certain “housekeeper”…

Ah, thinking about them always lead to a terrible headache, which for some reason you believe them to be aware of. Your last interaction with them goes back to a day or two before the “incident”, they’d been cordial and enthusiastic as usual but something about that smile always kept you on edge. Now you know your cautiousness was not uncalled for. You still want to strangle them but you’d rather drown into that lake again than admit it to their face. You can’t forget the genuine fear in Samael’s voice or the way he trembled against you when he asked you to not go to them.

What exactly did they do to you ?

“Darling ?” A deep voice brings you back to reality and you realize everyone in the room is staring at you -some with more annoyance and hostility than others- and you turn to see the concerned azure gaze of your lover. “Are you alright ?”

You don’ want to lie to him but now is really not the time to mention your doubts and questions. Instead, you smile softly and speak as casually as you can despite the headache growing in intensity.

“I just need some fresh air, don’t worry.”

You can tell he is not fully convinced with how deep his frown is and it gets worse when you try to leave your “seat”. He tenses up and to avoid making a scene you take one of his hands into your own and try to appease his paranoia.

“The balcony is not far, I’ll come back in a few minutes.” You lick your lips. “I promise. Nothing’s gonna happen,” you raise your voice to make sure everyone hears you, “nobody would be stupid enough to try something when you’re here, right ?”

You think you hear a few people chuckle and you don’t need to turn around to guess their derisive smiles. A few moments of silence pass where you stare at the King of Hell with the best puppy eyes you can muster. You know you’ve won when you hear him sigh and nod reluctantly. Slowly, you slip from his lap but before you can make a step, a hand grabs you by the arm causing you to turn around in confusion.

“Five minutes,” is all he says to you, irritation and stress already slipping into his voice. You mentally send an apology to everyone else in the room, knowing what they’ll have to deal with for this short amount of time.

“Of course, I understand.”

You beam at him but right as you’re about to leave, find yourself hit with a very bold and striking idea. You smile deviously under the eyes of a confused King. Dramatically, you kneel before him much like a knight in a fairytale would and take the hand which was holding your arm a few seconds ago into your own and bring it to your lips, not once breaking eye contact with him. He looks at you in stunned silence and wide eyes, his face covered in a delicious shade of blue. As a final move, you drop a chaste kiss on his hand and smile when you hear him inhale sharply.

“I’ll be back soon,” you beath the words fervently against his skin, “My King.”

You stroll out of the room without looking back once and head to the balcony, feeling quite proud -and maybe a bit embarrassed- of your little display despite the dull pain in your skull. You’re fortunate enough to not cross anyone on your way, and exhale slowly once you feel the cold air against your face.

You attempt to distract yourself from your gloomy thoughts with the view and feels the wind to caress your skin in a gentle breeze, it’s calm and peaceful. Until a voice you’re all too familiar with jumps in from behind, and it takes everything in you to refrain yourself from jumping in fright.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered well enough to put little stunts like this !”

You cringe at the friendly, upbeat tone they use and refuse to turn around to gaze at that pretentious smile. Of course, he knows what you did, he always seemed to know where you went and what you did.

“And I’m glad you have enough time on your hands to come and see me,” you retort as casually as possible.

Don’t show your anger, even if he knows, don’t show it.

“Of course, I’ll always free myself for you sweetheart,” he says, voice slightly huskier. “You know I’ll always be there whenever you feel bored.”

There it is, that same charming and bewitching tone he used the first time you met, the one that almost convinced you to follow him to the storage room. And his hair looked so soft, though you’d never touch it, mostly out of fear of what would happen to your fingers if you did. His eyes -well the one visible at least- were so pretty. He was attractive and persuasive for sure, but you always thought he was more than that, and you were right. What would have happened, if you’d followed them that day ?

Ah, I’d rather not think about it…

“Are you giving me the cold shoulder ?” he asks with hurt in his voice, you’re almost convinced it’s genuine. This time, you can’t help but flinch from his wording, and he notices it. “Oops, I shouldn’t have worded it like that, my bad.”

You only sigh at his “apology” and do your best to ignore the footsteps, coming closer and closer to you, slowly, like a snake chasing its unaware prey.

“Come on now, you weren’t so stiff last time we talked.”

You still don’t answer and  hear them hum in amusement at your silence. It’s not very hard to imagine the expression he’s wearing right now, narrowed eyes and a knowing smile. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them truly irritated or angry, and while his smile always unnerved you, you’d rather not discover what he looked like when he got mad.

“You’re acting like I’m the one who stabbed you in the back.”

He’s so close, too close to you for comfort, you feel your body tense as soon as the edge of his tail brushes your leg. Oh, he must be relishing in your agitation.

Fucking bastard…

“It must have been so painful, “ he whispers as one of his nails starts to move along your back. “The feeling of a sharp blade piercing your soft skin, “ he says while his finger starts to trail down the exact line of your scar through your clothes. “and the freezing winds nabbing at the wound while you desperately tried to stay afloat.” His voice drips with sadistic glee, you’re almost sure he’s getting turned on. “And then helplessly drowning with none coming to get you, oh you must have felt truly hopeless, didn’t you, sweetheart ?”

The urge to just throw him over the edge eats you away as a warm breath tickles your neck. But you do your best to sound and act as unbothered by the situation, instead opting for a white lie.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t remember most of it.”

Bad move, you sense him chuckles against your ear at your admission, as if you’d just confided the most important secret in the world. What kind of sick power did you just allow him to have over you now ?

“Really ?” he muses. “That’s too bad…” he snickers. “Maybe I could help you regain some memories ?”

Fuck, I walked right into that one.

“You know I could  make it feel good, don’t you ?”

You wonder if this is how Eve felt when she was tricked by the snake, in fact you wouldn’t be surprised to learn Flauros turned out to be the one who tempted her at this point. It’s like he was made for the sole purpose of spreading chaos whenever he went.

“I’ll have to decline the offer,” you answer firmly and to your surprise, notice him take a step back. You feel like you can breathe again.

“You’re so boring,” he exclaims, sounding very much like a spoiled kid. “But I knew it’d be like that, this story isn’t centered around me after all.”

You open your mouth to ask for more explanations when a deep, concerned voice reverberates in your head.

“Darling ? Are you on your way back ?”

You answer quickly, knowing very well what will happen if you don’t.

“Sorry, kinda lost track of time, I’m coming !”

“Hurry…please.”

“Give me a minute, I’ll be there soon.”

You’re glad he doesn’t ask more questions; else you’d have had to tell him about the spider standing right behind you and he’s already stressed enough as it is.

“I’m guessing his Highness is calling for you ?” he asks in an ever-knowing voice, still filled with that same fucking arrogance. “Better not make him wait !” he shouts in a disgustingly sweet sing-song voice.

Gross, this really didn’t suit him at all, being a coy little bastard really fits him better. As much as it bothers you, he’s playing the part of the bad guy pretty well, too well you think. As if he’d done this a hundred times over already.

You want to tell him to leave, to take care of all the tasks poor TK is forced to manage on their own, you want to yell at him, bleed him dry, snap his neck. Anything so you don’t have to walk past him and get a glimpse of that cheeky smile, anything for you to forget the image of a dying Samael from your mind. But then it would mean surrendering, admit that you’re terrified of whatever entity they’re supposed to be.

So, with all the strength and courage you still have left, you turn around and sure enough, he’s looking at you the exact way you predicted it. You walk past him, not too fast -less you betray your fear- but not too slow either -less you have to gaze for too long at that sharp, hypnotizing purple eye- . But the words he utters as you stand a few inches from him, cause you to stop dead in your tracks.

“You shouldn’t worry too much about me cutie, I’m only here to act as a small distraction to your little fairytale.” He chuckles. “You should be more concerned about the God who created this world in the first place and the minion who wishes to gain their attention through this story.”

You start to walk again, not fulling grasping his words but still finding some sort of unknown understanding through them. But you still hear him talk, speaking of beings beyond your reality. His voice becoming darker and louder as you get farther away.

“The King may be the current favorite, but who knows when I’ll steal his crown?”

Walk away, don’t turn back

“Up until you grow bored of your prince charming, I’ll be there.”

………….

“Maybe next time, I’ll get to be your Antagonist (: “

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#Flauros stop fucking with brain challenge

Sorry for any world builing inaccuracies, I did give myself some liberties concerning a few details, feel free to correct me about it Vee.

[mingkily]

｡☆✼★━ my baby, my home | p.sh ━★✼☆｡

navigation

starring: seonghwa x reader

fsk-0: fluff | mentions of covid, online uni and social distancing

volume: 1.5k words

vip access: @treasure-hwa & @barsformars & @midnightseonghwa & @multidreams-and-desires & @yunhoiseyecandy

“drink some more, you sound like a toad”, a loving little jab that made you roll your eyes but do as he said, because you were croaking a little; but he loved you anyway, even when you sounded like a toad. would love you if you had no voice at all, too.

sometimes you felt like seonghwa was a chronic mum friend, unable to stop pampering people even when they didn’t need it; possibly a side effect of living with seven other men of which at least five were more like boys, despite each being a legal adult. and sometimes, that was annoying you a little, because you didn’t need to be treated like a child and it did feel a little condescending at times.

today, however, was not such a sometimes.

you were crying into his chest, frustrated because this stupid pandemic had made it impossible to have a normal life, and while you’d grown somewhat used to it your studies had started, something you’d been excited for until the very first course was online already, making it impossible to get to know new people, and that was one of the things you’d been most excited for. and it felt so stupid, being upset over this when there were bigger problems - like people dying, for example -, but it just felt like the biggest problem in the world right now. it was the biggest problem in your world.

“it’s just so bad, hwa”, you sniffled, “all i see is blank screens and names that don’t tell me anything, and the teachers talk about random campus things as if any of us had had a chance to go there for more than five minutes, and it just makes me sad”, complaints that felt so childish, but he didn’t think any worse of you for it. he had a job, had chosen not to study, and even for him it was hard not seeing the usual people. and people still came in, just less frequently. he still had company. he couldn’t imagine how it was for you, sitting home all day staring at a screen in the empty apartment while he was at work. he could understand why you felt lonely, really.

“i get that, baby. i can’t say anything to make it better, either. but i’m here, and you can cry as long as you need to. or, tomorrow i’ll have to go to work, but if you need me i can call in sick. can’t possibly leave my baby alone when she’s sad.”

he was too great to comprehend, rubbing your back soothingly while you covered his favourite shirt in tears and snot, patient and warm and you almost told him to take the day off and just cuddle you, but you stopped yourself before you could do that. you felt pathetic, yes, but not that pathetic.

“i love you, hwa”, you hiccoughed, “and you smell really warm.”

“i smell warm?”, a little confused, but happy about the compliment nonetheless - if it was a compliment and not you trying to tell him that he was sweaty, which might very much be.

“yeah. like home.”

that was without a doubt a compliment, and seonghwa smiled against your hair.

“maybe that’s because we’re home, baby”, the reminder of sharing a home with him making both your hearts beat the tiniest bit faster. neither of you had expected this would be where you’d be when little freshman you had fallen in love with him, a senior because he’d skipped a class, and transferring from an all boys school to your mixed gender high school because his family had moved. but here you were, in his arm and in your common flat, living together and him comforting you through the crisis you had about having to start university during covid.

“maybe”, his comment having succeeded in making you smile, even though he couldn’t see it yet, “or maybe it’s because i love you.”

“i love you too. my baby. my home.”

together with his gentle movements on your back and the barely there rocking back and forth you did feel a little like a baby, but not in a bad way. you appreciated it, in this moment, appreciated feeling like someone was taking care of you. you liked not having to take care of yourself in this moment, having him there to take care of you when you were sad and honestly didn’t feel like you could do much other than cry. it was incredibly comforting to be pampered, wrapped in his arms and a soft blanket and him now asking if you wanted hot lemon water. you weren’t sick, but your throat probably hurt from sobbing so much, and he was always so mindful and so sweet.

“please”, you croaked out, though you didn’t really want to let go of him, in a little bit of a conflict because you knew you’d have to let him go if you wanted the water, but you also didn’t want to let go ever, especially if you didn’t actually have to.

but the desire for hot lemon water won, especially knowing he’d hold you again while you drank it anyway, so you moved off his lap, sat on the bed and kissed his cheek softly and shortly before he went to the kitchen, ready to pamper his baby some more.

“here. hot water with lemon. but be careful, it’s really hot”, your boyfriend told you a few minutes later, in the living room now because you’d missed him and had moved to the couch to at least be able to watch him while he prepared the drink for you.

“thank you, hwa”, leaving the cup on the table as you wrapped your hands around his neck instead to kiss him, your face snot-free now because you’d cleaned yourself up on the way since you passed the bathroom anyway and felt gross.

“you’re welcome”, seonghwa mumbled against you once you broke the kiss, smiling because it did seem like you were feeling better now, “how are you?”

he still wanted to make sure, of course he did.

“i’m better. but it’s still just… hard. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to meet people. and i feel a little lonely because it feels like i only have you and the boys, which is great, don’t get me wrong, but they’re your friends most of all, and i know it’s not how it is but i always feel like i’m intruding a little.”

“i understand”, he murmured against your hair, having pulled you against him again, into his chest with your face near his neck, “as you said, you’re never intruding, they all adore you almost as much as me, but i get it. you want your own friends. don’t want to always be stuck hanging out with me and my friends or being all by yourself. yes, i know you’re not stuck with me and you like it and you love me”, chuckling defensively when you raised your head and were about to protest, “it’s just that having a group of people for yourself would also be nice. i get it, don’t worry.”

he was way too perfect to be real, but you enjoyed this dream while it lasted. enjoyed being with seonghwa as long as you could. and were now going to enjoy the hot lemon water, prepared with lots of love and the water kettle that your boyfriend refused to get rid of and just the right amount of lemon.

“thank you, hwa”, not sure whether it was for the water or his words or both - probably both, “i love you.”

“i love you too. but baby?”, suddenly having an idea that might help and might get you some friends of your own, telling you once you hummed in acknowledgment, “how about you ask the teacher if you could suggest something like a book club or a study group or something? you could do it online, and then in really small groups offline once you know each other. social distancing and all, of course, but i think that might be better than having no one to talk to at all. and a study group would be useful, too, especially now in the beginning.”

that was a great idea, actually, one you hadn’t thought of because everything had felt so hopeless now that university had started and you hadn’t even seen anyone’s faces yet, and you rewarded him for it by setting down the mug and kissing him again, covering his face in hot, slightly wet kisses, the hot water he’d made you having heated up your lips enough for him to feel, and it was a nice feeling. warm and cosy, in a way.

“that’s such a good idea, you’re so smart! you should be in uni, not me!”, you praised him, eyes bright and face lit up by the smile he loved so much.

“you know you’re just as smart. now drink some more, you sound like a toad”, a loving little jab that made you roll your eyes but do as he said, because you were croaking a little; but he loved you anyway, even when you sounded like a toad. would love you if you had no voice at all, too.

and how could he not? you were his baby. you were his home.

[asleepycoyote]

My prompts

So I have written some prompts that you can ask to use. I will continue to add more. The ones that have italics or look like 'this' can be anyone's dialogue. I just added it so you know it's not only one person talking. To ask, you can just request the number of the prompt/s you can ask for multiple prompts, but please don't add too many. The ones that have a period at the end of the numbers, don't mind that. That's for me to remember something. Okay, anywho, take your pick :D. Remember you don't have to request one of these, you have your own idea, that's good! I'll be happy to write it! If you have a certain gender you want the reader to be don't forget to ask! You can also request me to add prompts to the list too! Okay so here's the prompts :)

1 "Oh no."

"What is it? What happened? Who died?"

"I think I just felt an emotion."

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

2 "Excuse me. I have to go make a scene."

3 "They're like a hurricane in human form."

4 "Fix it."

"It's a ransom note: I don't care about grammar!"

"There is no excuse for bad grammar."

5 "What does the little blinking light mean?"

"It means... wait blinking light?"

6 "What letter comes after 's' in the alphabet?

"T?"

"Ooh, yes please!"

7 "Why is there a magical portal in the bathtub?!"

8 "I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

9 "We can't have a crisis- my schedule is already full..

10 "How long have you been standing there?

"Longer than you'd like."

11 "Small fire! I said to set a small fire! This is not small!"

12 "I want to go home."

"And I want to go to the moon. It ain't happening, sweetheart. Time to accept that."

13 "It's really not that complicated."

14 "Close the door."

15 "It's three in the morning."

16 "Why are you helping me?"

17 "Just trust me."

18 "What are you thinking about?"

19 "Someday you'll thank me for kidnapping you?"

20 "Who sent you here?"

"I wasn't sent here... if anything, it was an accident."

"Made by whom?"

"Myself, I suppose."

"You sent yourself here on accident?"

"Well, I certainly didn't come here on purpose..."

21 "I just want to be happy."

22 "Can I sleep over? My parents are fighting again."

23 "Why won't you let me help you?!"

24 "You know we make a pretty good team."

25 "You're a horrible liar."

26 "You're freezing. Come here."

27 "I'm saying that because I care about you!

28 "Sing me a song please.

29 "I can explain./!"

30 "Come here."

31 "The real treasure was the memories we made along the way."

"I almost died!"

"Ah yes, that was my fondest memory."

32 "They're crying, what do I do?"

"Go comfort them."

"How do I do that?"

"Start with hugs."

"With what?"

33 "Somehow you don't even have to open your mouth to make my head hurt."

34 "Stop waking me up in the middle of the night."

35 "Any shorter and you'd probably fade out of existence."

36 "I fixed you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn."

37 "You just gave off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at."

38 "It's not my birthday."

"It's definitely your birthday."

"Give me a calendar and I will prove it to—oh. Never mind. Happy birthday to me."

39 "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't just summon a trans-dimensional entity to help me avoid all my problems."

40 "I'm not human. I never was. So, why are you expecting me to act like one?

41 "Everything here can kill you, but I can do it most efficiently."

42 "They took my wallet. Yes, just my wallet. Well.... maybe my passport too."

43 "I don't think of you as a protector. More like a friend."

44 "You deserved that."

45 "Shh, shh. You were dreaming."

46 "I won't leave you behind."

47 "You should be in bed."

48 "What's our exit strategy?"

"Our what?"

"Oh my god, we are all going to die."

49 "Oh my god, you're taking up the whole bed."

50 "I could keep you safe, they're all afraid of me."

51 "I trusted you!"

52 "I know your secret."

"You're gonna have to be more specific there, buddy. Which one? I have a lot of skeletons in my closet."

53 "Who gave you that black eye?!"

54 "Everyone keeps telling me your bad guy."

55 "Why? Because I don't want you to get hurt, that's why!"

56 "You're scared of that, aren't you?"

57 "Come on, when have my calculations ever been wrong?"

"Well-"

"Shut up, that was one time."

58 "Enjoying the view, sunshine?"

59 "While I do enjoy the silent treatment, I wasn't aware I had done anything to you."

60 "I think that's enough."

61 "They deserved it."

62 "What... is this?"

63 "You can't be serious!"

64 "I'm not sorry!"

65 "Who are you?"

"Oh sweetheart, I'm your worst nightmare."

"Wait a minute. Your that guy that tripped over my shoes on the bus this morning and said thank you-"

66 "Just because I'm helping you doesn't mean I care, your death would be a minor inconvenience. That's all."

67 "You owe me."

68 "Don't make me come in there."

69 "Don't touch me."

70 "That wasn't funny."

71 "I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten."

72 "Am I doing it right?"

73 "For God's sake! Who have you killed now?"

74 "Do you even know how to fly this thing?"

"Normally, I'd lie and say yes, but considering the fact that I almost flew us into that building, I'm going to assume you know the answer."

75 "What are you doing?! Don't eat it!"

76 "Feel free to admire me."

77 "You're insane!"

"I know! Isn't it great?"

78 "You don't know a thing."

79 "The truth is I never loved you."

80 "Is this a game to you?"

81 "Stop yelling at me."

"I'm not yelling at you! I'm just... being abnormally projective in the vocal region!"

"Otherwise known as yelling..."

82 "Don't ever forget me. Please?"

83 "I screwed up."

84 "You're my regret."

85 "No, sir. I am not underestimating the kidnappers. YOU are understanding my grandmother."

86 "Stay away from the llama."

87 "No one visits my grave anymore... wait. I don't even have a grave!"

88 "Tuna shamed."

89 "Well, I can scratch that off my bucket list."

"Who puts getting arrested on their bucket list?!"

90 "I-I can't stop it. I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I got you."

91 "What am I supposed to tell my parents? 'Hi mom and dad, I ,snuck out past curfew, almost died, discovered I can teleport, and now I'm joining a gang of superheroes.'"

"Maybe don't use the word 'gang'."

"You think that's the part they'll have the most trouble with?!"

92 "Give me the wallet or I shoot."

"No."

"What do you mean no? I'm serious, I will shoot you."

"Let me repeat myself. No."

"Um... okay I guess."

"Aren't you going to shoot me?"

"I don't know. This hasn't happened before."

"Well, until you do, wanna grab a bite to eat? I'm starving."

93 "Watch me."

94 "I thought you were dead."

95 "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

96 "Was that supposed to hurt?"

97 "You have to leave right now."

98

"I love you."

99 "I hate you.

100 "I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't throw it."

101 "How long has it been since you last ate something?"

102. "No, don't look at me!"

103. "How many marshmallows can you eat?"

104 "Why did you kick so much in your sleep? Are you constantly dreaming about soccer?"

105 "Destroying lives, one person at a time."

106 "Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2am.

107 "Just breathe."

108. "STOP EATING MY LASAGNA FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

109. "I don't understand why you should feel the urge to do that."

110. "I trust you."

"Wow, that incredibly... stupid of you."

111 "You broke my heart and all you can say is sorry?"

112 "You can't really blame me can you? You can only blame yourself."

113. "You keep painting me as the villain."

"Because you are the villain."

114. "Who could ever love someone like you?"

115 "I never stood a chance, did I?"

"That's the sad part - you did once."

116 "I've missed this."

117. "Who are you to tell me how to live my life?"

118. "Are you going to yell at me too? I guess I do deserve it."

119 "I don't want to have another surgery."

120. "Quit touching the IV."

121 "I was going to say something mean about them, but decided against it."

122 "How do you like raisins? How do you feel about a date?"

123. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to kiss me? I'm tired of lying to my diary."

[unwiltingblossom]

But through it all was you (LucienxMC, MLQC)

It's him. She lied to herself.

It's him. She made herself believe it really was, because the future was what the Queen decided.

Alternate scene version of Gloomy Date, because I have a lotta feelings. Spoilers up to ch24. Consider it M rated

She's been...so strong. For so very long. Since she finally drew upon the strength to die for her world - a word she'd desperately wanted to believe was this one, but now she's forced to accept was yet another timeline she'd had to end to save this one - since she'd woke up in this cold world, she'd had to be strong. She'd never had a moment to be weak, to give up or give in, no matter the cost, no matter how much it hurts. She's been strong even when it hurts, but finally...there's no disaster, no crisis that she needs to avert, and no memories left to bring back.

For once, just for one moment, she wanted to be weak.

He's so close, his breath washing over her and sending her mind immediately back into a world she'd given up, the memories she alone was left to guard. His voice was so insistent, demanding answers she had, but didn't want to give.

She could resist him, still. She could refuse. Even if it hurt to refuse, to push away her screaming desire and pain, she could.

She didn't want to.

She didn't actually say anything, not substantial, at least. She didn't think she needed to. He could always read her so well, looking away from him and denying him the ability to read her expression was her only option to keep her secrets from him, and he'd already suggested that he knew what she was hiding anyway. The uncertainty in her eyes when she finally looked up at him, the pain that she tried to shove down but miserably failed at, and the way she knew her cheeks must have been flushed with how close he was...the subtle way his eyes widened, the rapid flicker of emotions she couldn't read or catch long enough to recognize, he must have been able to tell. Why she so instinctively trusted him, what should have been an almost-stranger, why she couldn't help but reach out to take his hand when he was falling if only because she couldn't bear to watch him fall alone.

His lips parted briefly, and she steeled herself. For him to say it and make it real. For one of his gentle teasing comments. For that biting, icy cold he'd displayed in the bookstore. No sound came from his lips.

One of his hands trailed down her cheek, the back of his fingers brushing a stray lock of her hair from her face.

She opened her mouth to break the stretching silence before it could become awkward - so she could backtrack and rethink her poor choices.  Those fingers pressed to her lips instead, firm and warning.

Against her hand, where it splayed against his chest reflexively, his heart beat unsteady and rapid.

He could stop it with a word. She could stop it with the same one. Either one could break the moment, remind him of his priorities and remind her that the softness and yearning in his eyes was nothing more than an act to fool her into lowering her guard and falling into whatever trap he'd meant to lay for her before his incident. Neither one of them did. That word, 'Queen', hung heavy in the air, but faded into dust as chapped and thin lips finally crashed upon hers. He felt chill, and just a touch clammy under her fingertips when she tugged his shirt open further, but the strength in his hands as he rucked up her skirt belied that apparent weakness.

Memories washed over her mind, carefully guarded and kept in the back of her mind like a painful treasure and an inescapable burden at once, brought suddenly and powerfully to the front of her mind. It wasn't the same room, it wasn't the same bed, and it wasn't the same man. But it was. No matter how deeply she scoured his violet eyes, she wouldn't ever see the love that should have been there, but his weight was so familiar and reassuring, like someone finally pulling her back down to earth after gravity rejected her and hurled her out into the coldness of space. He moved methodical and urgent at the same time, falling inevitable as an avalanche upon her, into her, inevitable as it was that she'd find herself falling back into his arms every time she pulled away, inevitable as it was that her feet would carry her across the world to find him whenever he left, inevitable as it was that her heart would bleed again whenever it felt full of him.

He surrounded her all over again, his taste, his scent, warmth, the sound of him in against her skin, and the way he filled her up perfectly the way he always had. She was overwhelmed, swept away in the moment, and for just this short time, the man she loved was with her again, so long as she allowed herself to miss the way every shift and press of his body into her wasn't exploring her, but searching for answers for himself. And she could. In fact, there was no way she couldn't. Not now, not once she'd decided to give in, just this once, not to him - because somehow she always ended up giving in to him no matter what she did or how she tried to resist - but to herself.

Her eyes fell shut as her mouth fell open.

It's him.

She lied to herself.

It's him.

She made herself believe it really was, because the future was what the Queen decided.

It's still him.

Because in the end, it was true. No matter which world she found herself in, no matter what he remembered, even if he couldn't remember her at all and couldn't even remember the Queen, it would always be him. No matter the life they lived, no matter how things changed, in every world that she found him, 'Lucien' would always be the one she loved. She realized that two months ago, and she couldn't deny that anymore, not in that moment and perhaps never more again. Not really. Her fingers dug deeply into his skin, stretched tightly over a frame too thin and undernourished from living on his own, without anyone around to care when he didn't. Her legs wrapped around his hips as if she feared he'd slip away, leave her alone again like he always somehow managed to do, no matter how many times he made hollow promises to stay. If she held on tightly enough, this time he wouldn't simply vanish in curls of smoke and leave her with empty arms and a heart bleeding out into nothing.

The sounds in his throat vibrated against her ear, that familiar timbre she selfishly believed only she could be privy to across any lifetime. At some point his name started echoing off the walls of the apartment, pleading and insistent, demanding and raw with the grief she'd pushed down so hard and so vigilantly. She couldn't say when it began, and she couldn't make it stop. She couldn't say if the tears on her cheeks were from that feeling of finally coming home to the man she loved, or because it was all just an illusion she couldn't truly force herself to believe. The flush of exertion and sex brought color back to his pallid cheeks, and as shaky as he'd been only a short while ago, he seemed full of energy now, one arm reflexively curled around him in a mimicry of the possessiveness her lover had shown, and the other gripping the metal of the headboard to keep it from banging into the wall.

It might have lasted minutes, or it might have lasted hours. She couldn't keep track of the time, she could hardly breathe through that familiar yet unfamiliar smell of him - not quite the clean and fresh scent of the plants they raised together, not the man who clung just as tightly to her in the night as she had to him. She could hardly think, because his name played over and over through her mind, as if she could pull him back to her, summon him to her side as she had once before, if only she called for him long enough, hard enough, fervently enough.

The nails of the hand around her cut crescent moons into her back, knuckles gone white as his pace stuttered and broke, spiraling completely out of control.

His gaze pierced deeper than ever before, as if he could not only read her mind but insert and suffuse her mind with himself.

He couldn't, because he'd already long been there.

However long or short it took to arrive, their peak arrived with such an abrupt synchronicity, that it might have violently leapt between them in the space of a single heartbeat.

The moment lasted longer than anything in her life; it passed so quickly it might not have existed at all.

For that moment - it existed, she's sure it existed - every timeline, every world passed through her mind once more. Every moment they met, every sweetly cloying word he spoke, every time the delicate butterfly settled in the palm of his hands.

For just that moment - surely it was real, she has to believe it was - all the love she felt in every one of those lifetimes coursed through her veins like a fire so intense it should have burned her into ash from the inside out.

For the briefest of moments - if it happened, did she just fool herself into believing it did? - those violet eyes hazed almost black with lust and pleasure widened just a fracture - colored with that gentle, painful love that she'd seen when they stood in the middle of nothing and everything in the black cabin.

A moment after, they crashed down from their heights, and he collapsed weightily down on her, pinning her body uncomfortably down against her bed, overly hot and constricting as he gave rattling gasps that spoke of pushing himself much too hard.

Those long eyelashes of his swept across his high cheeks, before twisting in pain. Her hand placed over his cheek and she winced at the heat of his skin under her hand.

When she called his name, the eyes that met hers were exhausted, red-rimmed, pained.

They were...

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet that gaze, rather than shy away.

It isn't him.

Her fingers ran through his hair soothingly, hoping to calm both his breathing and his heartbeat.

It can't ever be him.

She recognized the flicker of confusion that flitted through his exhausted haze, among all those other, constantly shifting emotions she'd never been able to identify in this world or the last.

But...

But even so...

She tucked her face against his neck, so that she needn't look in his face, and he finally shifted to lay beside, rather than atop her, an arm slowly winding around her - as if uncertain whether he should...or perhaps whether he really wanted to.

She closed her eyes, splaying her hands against his back as she took the opportunity to keep him close to her just a little longer.

The destiny of loving 'Lucien' every time, in every world...

is the one I choose.

[lennydaisy]

EPIPHANY SERIES // OUTER BANKS // CHAPTER THREE.

(n.) a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand. or suddenly become conscious of something that is very important to you.

              “Care to seize the day, my friend?”

Outer Banks                                                                                                                  Season 1-                                                                                                                      FEM OC! and ?

Here’s the link to Chapter Two in case you haven’t read it already <3 Check it out!!

Babysitting isn't for everybody. And at the beginning, I didn't think I was for me either. They say every child is different and this job has proved that couldn't be more true. Call it delusion, but I thought babysitting would be the easiest job on the planet.  Getting paid to look after someone's kid for a few hours whilst they run for the hills for a sliver of free time.  Sounds easy enough right?

Wrong!

You need to have thick skin when it comes to babysitting. No matter how much the parents reassure and praise their kid for being a literal angel on earth. That said angel will call you a do-do head at least once whilst simultaneously having a tantrum because you told them no, despite how much they promised that their parents allow them to climb onto of the refrigerator.

The first time I babysat it was actually a baby I was watching. The mom wanted to get out of the house and away from the responsibility of her 6-month-old. She had graciously written up any and every scenario that could play out in the few hours she was gone. And I was feeling confident. Until I wasn't.

They wouldn't stop crying. And their special lamb, that the board told me to give to the baby when they were upset, ran out of batteries, and I couldn't find new ones anywhere.

They refused to eat, just spitting the pureed food back in my face. They also wouldn't keep their socks on and that was the last straw for my sanity. I understood now why the mom had been quick to run out the door.

I ended up calling Kie, begging for her to come and help. I don't know how she understood a word I said, I was practically hyperventilating over the line, staring at the baby who was crawling around in a fit of rage.

Kie was truly a godsend. She somehow fed the baby and managed to get them to sleep before the mom came back. It did result in me splitting my first wage with Kie, but I wasn't complaining, I was just happy that I made it out of that house with just a headache and not an external crisis. Though that did come later.

I've babysat an 8-year-old boy, who ran away from me in the park. I did find him eventually. After giving myself a hairline fracture in my right wrist from climbing the tree he got stuck in.

I've babysat animals before. That wasn't part of my non-existing contract, but the way they spoke about their pets was very humanlike. It didn't end well for me, it never does. It resulted in me holding four leashes of four overly excited Komodo Dragons. Just kidding. The refused to move and lacked any type of emotion.

'I took you guys to the beach, be grateful.'

Now, I know what you're thinking, Komodo Dragons? Aren't those Illegal to have as pets? The answer to that question is yes! But I didn't know that. Just imagine Shoupe's face when he saw me practically dragging not one, but four, exotic animals across the boneyard. It looked suspicious is all I'm going to say.

Turns out the two guys who asked me to babysit their dragons for them we're smugglers who purchased and sold exotic animals. Not good. Apparently, they were already under the police departments radar and the pair planned on legging it to the in-country hoping to change and clear their names.

That worked out well for them, I think? Nothing else was really mentioned of it after my dad collected me from the police station. They're still on the radar, I hope. If not then there are two brawny men out there that could come and kill me in my sleep for ruining their very illegal business. Look, If you are up to some suspect things, my dumbass is the last person you'd want to be involved. I will unironically get you caught.

That's how Ward Cameron had heard about my very pristine babysitting service. Noticing the little bit of trouble that always seemed to shadow me, he offered to hire me permanently as his youngest daughter's babysitter.

That was three years ago, and here I am still babysitting Wheezie.

"This is stupid," Wheezie complains, trudging behind me, pushing forward the shopping cart filled with lost items that we found on the beach.

Since there is no internet in Kookland, in other words, Wheezie's heart line is currently in critical care. I decided to venture outdoors with her for a change. Instead of just sitting around her three-storey clubhouse or in her four-acre backyard, I thought it would be nice to comb the beach of any debris that the hurricane brought along.  

There was a lot of personal items that washed up on the beach too. Wallets, bags, photographs, books, clothes, wine bottles, footballs, toys, you get the gist. Most of them were ruined, either waterlogged or just completely useless. However, somethings just needed a good clean, and that's what we are going to spend our day doing. There is no way of telling what belongs to who, so we'll just turn them into the lost and found and hope they'll check there if it was important enough to them.

Our two trollies worth didn't even make a dent in the rubble that litters the beach, but it was a start. Say hello to a summer of hard labour.

"There was a hurricane Wheezie, have some sympathy" I roll my eyes at the girl who was less than thrilled about today's plans.

"I do have sympathy," she claims defensively, "It's just pointless.  No one's gonna come looking for this junk," eyes flickering through the findings in her trolley.

What we found isn't pointless. They belong to someone. I think about it the same way I did as a kid when I wanted every single teddy bear in my bed at night so none got left out, so I didn't hurt their feelings. A ragged old soccer ball might look worse for wear, but it has a home and I going to get it back there.

"It's not junk," I object, stopping momentarily, waiting for the stroppy pre-teen to catch up. "Say you lost your phone and someone found it, and returned it too you. You wouldn't be grateful?" I theorize in terms that I know she would understand.

"My dad would just get me a new one," she shrugs nonchalantly, not missing a beat.

"Well, not everyone's fortunate that way," I remind her, blinking suddenly as the sun shines on something reflective in the cart, blinding me.

Reaching towards the sparkling object, I realise that it appears to be quite expensive. It's a glass ashtray. Rubbing the damp sand off the surface, my thumb feels an engraving. In swirly calligraphy, reads the initials:

'S.G'

"I'm sorry," Wheezie apologizes, wincing when she heard my comment, "I didn't think-"

"-It's okay," I smile at the girl. It's not like I don't understand my current life situation. It's pretty shitty, I know, but I live with it. I was born a Pogue for a reason. I wasn't supposed to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth, though that doesn't mean I hate those who are. They have it easier than me and my family, sure, but that's just how it is in the Outer Banks. Some are more fortunate than others. It does, however, leave a sour taste in my mouth that Kook parents will just throw money at there children to get them to shut up, but that's just a Pogue's opinion.

The generators haven't kicked in yet, seeing as though the Camerons security code gate is bouncing loosely against its unlocked hinges. Holding the gate open for Wheezie to push by with her cart, I catch a glimpse of their usually perfectly mowed lawn. Instead, I see plenty of fallen trees and scattered branches, broken plant pots, and ruined garden monuments. It’s not a good look, especially for the high-class Camerons.

That just goes to show, hurricane's don't show mercy on anyone, Kook or not.

As a wise man once said; 'Thanks Agatha, ya batch.'

Parking our carts beside the Cameron's private pool, away from the workers who are just trying to do their jobs. I turn to Wheezie saying, "You go get some soapy water and gloves and I'll empty the carts."

Nodding her head, she rushes into her house, leaving me slightly confused, 'Where did the sudden enthusiasm come from?'

Emptying the carts, I lay out what needs to be cleaned the most: from a bronze candlestick holder to a old, yet unique, shoe buckle, and everything in between. And of course, the ashtray. 

Holding it gently in my palms, legs crossed against the cold slabs, I couldn't help but feel hypnotised by the intricate marks that littered the tray. It truly was a lost treasure.

"I'll take that," announces a voice from behind my hunched figure, jumping when a hand snatches the tray from my grip.

Coming to my feet, I'm ready to snatch the tray back from the sudden thief, but I stop when I realise who it is. Why am I not surprised, I am on their turf.

If it isn't dumb, dumber and dumbest.

Throwing the delicate glass from hand to hand, Rafe lets out a low whistle, "Check the weight on that," he tosses it to Kelce who was standing tall behind him. Kelce nods his head in approval, of course agreeing with what Rafe has to say.

"Who did you steal that from Pogue?" Rafe smirks thinking he has me sussed out. Not wanting to give the satisfaction that him lobbing around the ashtray is causing me heart amputations, I stare him in the eye, "I didn't steal it. I found it."

"You did, did you," he utters pushing past me, his head low with a sick smile, taking in the view of the tressures that I had laid out, "And what about all this? Did you just find that too?"

I say nothing. He knows the answer to that question. I already told him. I don't need to explain myself, especially not to Rafe Cameron.

His eyes flicker over Wheezie and I's findings, taking in each and everyone with a curious eye,  before he cracked, "Bunch of junk," kicking some of the items into the pool.

All I could do was stare. Stare as someone's possessions sunk to the bottom of the marble pool, clashing and crumbling at the foot of Rafe. I fell sick.

His friend just laughs, egging him on. Kelce patting him proudly on the back, handing him back the ashtray. Rafe turns to face me, that smirk never leaving his face, but I can't look at him. I refuse to.

"-Hey Rafe, dad's looking for you," a soft voice breaks the harsh glare that Rafe was sending my way. Nodding his head at the voice, he holds the ashtray out for me to take.

It was too good to be true.

Gullible enough, I reach out for it, only to have it slip through my fingertips. Unable to hear the shattering of the glass as it hits the red slab, my brain refuses to accept fate as I stare down at the shards.

Laughing lightly, I bite my lip, nodding my head understandingly, not expecting anything less from Rafe. A sharp grip on my wrist snaps up my damp eyes, "See you later, Pogue," he hisses in my numb ear, before marching away as though nothing happened.

Sensing a presence, I meet eyes with the 3rd and final member of Rafe's crowd.

Topper.

Smiling lopsidedly at the well put together boy who hasn't moved or spoken since showing up, "Nice friends you've got there Topper," I say monotoned, watching as the boy snaps out of his trance-like state before following Rafe with a blank expression and his tail between his legs.

Shuddering out a breath, I unclip my waist bag and begin to pick up the chunks of glass. Pausing when a pair of clean, white shoes entre my line of sight, "Careful," she crounches down, picking up a shard, placing it into my bag.

A few minutes of picking up the sizable pieces, all that was left on the slabs was a glittering shimmer. Satisfied with what was salvaged, we stand back up to our full height. It was silent. Awkwardly silent.

"Thank you," I shyly say, not at all pleased that the Cameron girl had caught me in a moment of weakness, but at least she didn't mock me for it.

"Your welcome," she smiles before reaching for the tennis rackets she had thrown on the ground before coming to help me. Certain that was the end of the exchange, I turned back to the pool where pieces of metal and loose book pages float carelessly on the surface.

It was just a bunch of junk anyway.

"Hey," Sarah turns, rubbing the back of her head subconsciously, "I'm going to save mice from the birds," she says, pointing out to the bottom of her garden where the surge has blown over, waterlogging the grass.

I just blink at the girl, confused as to why she is even telling me this. Letting out a gentle huff, "I have a spare racket," she offers, holding out one of the two rackets she has in her hands.

Finally catching what she's throwing, I look anywhere but her direction, "I can't," hoping to find a legit excuse as to why I don't want to help her be a hero for mice. Then it hit me, "I'm supposed to be babysitting Wheezie."

My triumphant smile fell as fast as it came when Sarah says, "The powers back on, Wheezie will not willingly come outside again," still holding out the bat for me to take, "Also, my dad's back, so your shift ended about 20 minutes ago."

The more reasons she adds, the more difficult she is making it to say no, and she knows it as well. Her eyebrows dancing lightly as she waves the racket around like a tempting treat.

Giving in, seeing as though I have run out of excuses to give, I grudgingly accept the racket. Maybe her being the sworn enemy of my best friend would have been a good excuse, but I didn't think of that at the time. And what would I of said:

'Oh, I can't help you, even though you selflessly helped me, because my best friend hates your guts.'

What are we, middleschoolers?

I can't help but feel wrong about it though. Like I'm betraying my role as a pogue, as a best friend. But if I feel that way about just being near the kook princess, that doesn't make me any better than her brother. A judgmental prick.

Let's call it paying back a debt. She helped me, now I'll help her. Tit for tat. Anything to make my mind feel at ease.

Walking behind the women who seemed to be on a mission, I'm met by the shrieking flock of overhead seagulls, each nosediving into the burrows, hoping to catch their next meal.

"Operation ‘Save The Mice’ is a go," she announces, holding out her racket waiting for me to tap mines against hers, declaring our battle. I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why does this concern us?" tapping my racket unsurely against hers.

Nodding her head in confirmation, she takes her stance, eyes now set on the sky. "You have about as much compassion as a rock," she focusses her swing, untimely missing by a long shot. It was entertaining to watch, I'm not going to lie.

"Tell me something I don't know," I reply, leaping back as the girl swings her racket with vigour and fury at the diving gulls. I can't help but laugh at her attempts.

Having enough of my laughter she turns around, a challenging look flaring in her eyes, "Think you can do any better?"

I just shrug my shoulders, twirling the racket around my fingers, smirking at my trick, but Sarah just looks unimpressed. Watching as a flock of gulls take their position to dive,  I jump as high as possible hoping to swat them away.

At that moment I learned something about human capability. Humans shouldn't jump. Like ever. It's embarrassing. What do we expect? To touch the stars? It's nice to dream and imagine that when we push both legs of the ground, arms reaching high, that we are close to flying. Let's just say my non-existing dream to become an Olympic long jumper has just flushed down the toilet.

Another thing I learned is that when you swing a racket, with force, at a cluster of hungry Seagulls, you will get attacked. The only thing between them and they're next meal is me, and they didn't hesitate to remove me from the situation.

Letting out a shriek, I run away from the burrows, hands protecting my head as the birds swoop at me. Without a second thought, I run behind Sarah, using her as a shield to protect my crouching figure from the diving gulls.

After two minutes of fearing for my life, I can't help but chuckle at myself. And Sarah joins in, shoving my arm lightly, pushing me away from hiding behind her. The sudden shove causes me to stumble over my own feet, falling back on the grass. I couldn't help but laugh more, seeing stars as my stomach cramps in pain.

Sarah holds out her hand, trying her best to keep her balance from laughing, offering to help me up. I accept without a second thought, allowing her to pull me to my feet. Both smiling widely at our stupidity.

"Let's get these birds," I smirked at the girl who nodded her head in agreement. Both of us taking a battle stance, ready to defend our people. Or well Mice. They attack us, we attack them.

A cold shadow suddenly covers the setting sun that was shining against us. We let out another shriek, holding each other as we attempt to duck from the relentless gulls, running away from the burrows.

"Sarah!" I hear someone shout over our screams. Too busy protecting ourselves, we didn't even register the voice, "Mason?!" They ask in confusion.

Finally feeling safe enough from the killer birds, I look up to see Mr Cameron making his way towards us with Lana Grubbs at his side. 'Why is she here?'

"We're busy!" Sarah exclaims, picking up and tossing me the racket I had dropped when I fell, going back to swinging at the birds. She takes one side of the burrows and I take the other, waving around my racket. At this point I don't even care about the mice, those birds attacked me! So, I'm attacking them!

"What are you two doing?" Mr Cameron asks, not understanding why his daughter and his hired babysitter are running around like headless chickens.

"Saving mice," I reply, flashing my eyes over to the man, who stands with an ever so slightly amused look. "The birds are having a field day," Sarah adds, pulling me with her, chasing after the devils in the sky.

"Girls, the birds have to eat too," He implies, but we didn't hear any of it, still aimlessly swinging. "No, it's a mouse genocide out here," Sarah states breathlessly.

"It's the circle of life," Mr Cameron's patience was running thinner, "Now come on, I have a human being-" finally introducing the other presence in the garden. This pauses our attack, both looking apologetically at the lady, "-I'm so sorry. I'm Sarah."

Shaking the ladies hand, "This is Lana Grubbs, Scooter's wife," Mr Cameron introduces, "You were storm prepping with him, right?" he asks his daughter.

"Yeah," she answers, still breathless, "He helped me latch the cabin to the Druthers," nodding her head in the direction of the docked boat at the end of the pier.

'It's a nice boat,' I thought taking in the beauty of the three-story yacht, 'You can't hide money, huh.'

"Last night?"

"Yeah."

"And did he go out after that?"

"From here?"

"Yeah."

"No. Are you crazy? There was a hurricane," Sarah laughs lightly at the thought of someone willingly going out during a storm.'I could think of a few people,'  bringing my attention back to the two adults in front of me.

"Well, did he say where he was going?" Miss Lana asks, her eyes erratic, "Get a phone call or mention anything?" The desperation lacing her voice makes my heart stop with sympathy for the woman.

"He didn't say anything to me," Sarah shakes her head, her tone not hiding her pity for the lady.

"What about you Mason?" Mr Cameron asks me, "Have you seen Scooter recently?" his questions sparking Miss Lana to look my way, her eyes glistening with withering hope.

"The last I saw of him was when Pope and I delivered to your house," regret instantly hit me, as I had to be the bearer of bad news. It was true though. The last time I saw Scooter was earlier this week when he opened the door for his groceries. I've seen him at Save-A-Lot a few times, but that was months ago when I had to tell him to leave because other customers were complaining that he was bothering them for money.

"I'm sorry," I apologise to the lady who just shakes her head, looking at the ground.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asks her dad who just nods, wrapping an arm around Miss Lana, "He's absolutely fine," he reassures Sarah, before guiding the dazed woman back towards the house.

"Oh!" I hear Mr Cameron exclaim, spinning round to face me, digging through his pockets, "Thank you for watching Wheezie today," he says, placing a brown envelope in my hand.

"Thank you, sir," I smile with gratitude as he makes his leave again.

Sighing, I slap the envelope a few times in my hand, turn back to a Sarah. I go to snap her out of her daydream, but get interrupted by a distant voice, "Hey Sarah!"

At the top of the disarranged lawn stood a scornful Topper, hands in his pockets as he looks down on us, making his way over at a snail pace.

"You better go," I flick my head in the direction of her boyfriend whose eyes are slitted with distaste. Holding out the racket for her to take, she nods her head and makes her way over to Topper, not even sparing me a glance.

I get it.

"I want you to stay away from that pogue, alright?" I hear him utter not so quietly under his breath, knowing fine well that I'm still able to hear him. I pay him no mind, finding my own way out. That's what he wants. Attention. That's always been what Toppers wants. And I'm not going to give him that satisfaction. Not anymore.

Humming a gentle tune under my breath as I make my way towards the gate. I double-take when I spot a hunched figure sitting by the pool, "Wheezie?"

My sudden appearance spooking her as she ripped the earphones out from her ears, the buds projecting a catchy pop beat. The girl sat on the cold slabs, clad in yellow rubber gloves and safety goggles, surrounded my various cleaning tools: a basin of soapy water, a toothbrush, a blow torch?

"What are you doing?" I ask sceptically, making my way towards her as she stuttered over her words before giving up with a sigh.

"I heard what Rafe said," she admits, her voice low as though afraid to speak out against her brother. That's the Rafe effect. He gets off on it. Knowing that everyone around him, his family included, is too scared to tell him he's a mess with even messier opinions. "And it not true," she adds.

Wheezie walks over, holding out the shoe buckle that we found on the beach. The once rusted and unrecognisable buckle now sparkled a blinding silver, and despite its eroded corners, it was still in great condition, "Pretty, right?" she notices my expression, "That's not the best part," she claims, turning over the buckle,  holding it out of me to take.

Engraved on the silver base scribed, 'Made in Occupied Japan.'

"I couldn't save everything, like books and stuff, but I tried my best. I even made a box and everything," She rambles, rushing over to pick up the homemade box that read, "Lost and Found," painted in bold, pink lettering. In the box sat: a polished pin, the candlestick holder, a handful of leather wallets and all the other salvageable treasure that we found. And now the shoe buckle.

"It's not junk," she says, passing me the box, "They belong to someone and I hope they find them," she says, rubbing the back of her tinted red neck, finally understanding why I had her help me in the first place.

It's not junk.

I'm not great when it comes to other peoples emotions. They make me want to shrivel up and go invisible, but I can't help but admire the girls change of heart, but I'm still awkward so, I just ruffle her hair, hoping the annoying act conveys my gratitude.

Having enough of me for one day, Wheezie pushes me toward the gate, practically kicking me out. "See you next time kid," I shout over my shoulder, smiling as her face grovels at the word 'kid'.

Basking at my long journey home, I give up attempting to balance the light box in my arms. I place it on the sidewalk, unzipping my waist bag wanting to tuck the brown envelope, that I was struggling to hold, away. 

The clattering of glass pauses my actions. Reaching in, I pick out a small piece, watching as the setting sun danced across the surface, shining every colour of the rainbow onto the tarmac.

'S.G'

Chapter Three: FIN!

I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even though it’s kind of filler. Kie would be proud of Mason for beach combing, her tendencies are rubbing off on her.

I choose for Mason not to go to the motel because that’s just what I choose, I don’t really have a reason why. Well I do, but I can’t tell you yet. You’ll find out eventually, if my idea goes to plan...

So we learned about Mason very perfessional babysitting service. Also I know that Rafe is, y’know bad, but I’m excited to explore Mason’s relationship with him. It will be interesting to write!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to write the next chapter. Mason is going to get buzzed.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

Also, if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters, just let me know and I’ll for sure do that!

*TAGLIST*

@xshinytrashcanx​ @prejudic3​ @annoylinglyaries​

[norgestan]

i finished skamfr s2. lord help me

this is a season. that Exists

watching this made me remember all the things that i didn't like about og, so i'll be coming back to that a lot, but i won't give skamfr a lot of credit for these offenses since og did them first

final comment before diving in the story and characters... the cinematography here is such a mess. why do they have to ruin their shots with oversaturated colors and weird lighting? like, just look at these

THEY LOOK SO WEIRD AND UGLY. as a gifmaker, if i'd been coloring something like this, this would've been the point where i say "alright that's WAY too much, let's backtrack a little". pre s3 skamfr gifmakers i'm so sorry for y'all

okay. what does skamfr accomplish better than the original... i found emma slightly less annoying than eva during s2. it was cute that she didn't treat her breakup w yann as a really good fuck, but a genuinely nice moment that she treasures in her heart. manon was never as mean to daphné as noora was to vilde in og, which is always appreciated. didn't feel like she had a personal vendetta against her and her morality, but that she played the part in not taking daphné seriously - and also stopped when she realized that the girls felt uncomfortable w that. the little changes in manon felt... better this time around? she's not the preachy tumblr feminist that noora was at the beginning of s2, so when she tried to use the syrian crisis stuff to say that charles was Bad, it didn't felt as if she was clinging to non existent morals to keep herself from falling for him, it just felt like an excuse she'd say to not get together w him.

but again it IS my problem w og that we never got a season of what it means to have those tumblr ideals in the real world and while skamfr didn't do anything to go down that route, at least they didn't do it as bad. from manon's part, that is.

the fight scene and the party w charles' brother were great scenes, i liked how they synced the shots and the music.

manon's actress is really good! most of her emotions were believable, though the "convos happen way too fast" problem often dragged her abilities down lol. she's a far better crier than emma's actress.

as for charles... eh. i'm glad his portrayal was more believable from the actor's part. didn't take me out of the story anymore, so props to him i guess

i feel like i've run out of good things to say so let's dive in on the remains of this fuckery.

mika is ANNOYING AS FUCK. was eskild ever so fucking annoying during s2........like during his first scenes i kept wondering if i found him to be more funny than annoying, but annoying won by far. i wish they didn't spend so much time on his very unfunny very loud scenes where he's annoying to manon. that said... mika and manon feel way more like a sibling duo than noora and eskild felt to me, so that's a win i guess. immensely dragged down by how much i dislike mika

same goes to the lynn character whose name i already forgot. she doesn't hold the same relatability that lynn held, and the annoying comedic relief spot is already taken, thank you so much. she often destroyed the emotional impact of some scenes and it just made me feel bad for manon's actress :/

the girl squad is fine i guess not a lot happens w them in s2 that makes their bond stronger or whatever. they're just... side characters w annoying side plots that have nothing to do w manon and just serve as a distraction to the mess that it's the central plot. but that was an og problem, so don't worry france. the bar was... low, though

like why are they so emotionally deaf towards their friends.... that scene where emma was reading manon's article to the girls and manon starts crying and emma says "am i reading it wrongly?"...... what the fuck is wrong w you????? your friend is crying???? go comfort her???????

some of those moments are clearly played for laughs and it's sad that they sacrifice relationship development for the sake of jokes that don't even work.

final comment on manon's friendship... how is it. that manon is telling everyone "i will go on one date w charles so he stops playing w my friend's feelings" and everyone is like haha that's great you're gonna fall in love this is so Funny and Okay. can manon get better friends to tell her that a guy blackmailing you into a date via hurting one of your friends is.... not cute or normal in any way?????? jfc. again, this is an og issue first. and again, fuck the bar was so low.

yes i've avoided talking about charles and the relationship because... sigh. it's the part that i dislike the most and it's all over the season and i'm bored!

there's such missed potential in a charles & manon friendship, that ties into skam not knowing how to deliver an enemies to lovers plotline in an organic way. the fastest way to make that happen is to have william blackmail noora into a date... which immediately ruins everything because that's just an incredibly nasty thing to do. and charles (william?) never truly does anything to redeem himself. they have a nice dynamic during the sleepover scene but charles is too occupied being the Mysterious Bad Guy™ and also super creepy in general and it just doesn't work!

i swear that in every moment where the show kinda did its job and made me empathize and understand charles, he just said something so emotionally abusive and manipulative that it'd took me out instantly. and i can't remember if william did the same in most of those scenes.

it's sad because noora's season is never about noora, but her relationship w william. there's nothing to be said about her family, her morality, her ideals, her friendships, her conflicts. everything stays the same except for her relationship w william. and here is pretty much the same... at the end, if you're not a noorhelm fan, you'll get bored. and after manon and charles got together everything was boring to me.

idk what i can say to express my dislike for the relationship, because it kinda has already been said. charles just doesn't evolve for the good, it's manon who changes for him because she's the one who has to be the bigger person and give him the benefit of the doubt and try to understand him and get to his intimate side. and i'm so bored of that trope. women are not rehabilitation centers and they shouldn't be forced to deal w someone's toxicity because they may Be Good Inside. anyways watch skam españa season 3

the show doesn't really do anything to acknowledge manon's flaws and while they do address charles' they never do anything to change his toxic ways, so what we're left with is a boring het couple where you have to squint really, really hard to see charles as a highschooler. og's fault too, and france didn't do anything to better it.

what else is there to say... eh. i'm glad i'm done w this because i'm pretty sure it can only get better after this season

[heroesnever-react]

!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!! Overwatch Reactions: The Support Squad Find Out That Their S/O Is A Cutter

A/N: I DO NOT ENDORSE SELF-HARM! If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts and/or tendencies, please seek the help of a medical professional. There are plenty of resources out there for you that are willing to listen, because you are alive for a reason and you'd miss out on so much if you weren't here, your purpose wouldn't be filled and those who love you would be heartbroken without you. If you or someone you love is having a mental health crisis, look up and call your local or national suicide hotline or 911. Because as long as you wake up breathing, you are alive for a reason. You are loved.

ANA

Her momma instincts would kick in IMMEDIATELY. She'd press for you to tell her where those scars on your wrists came from. And you're not going anywhere until you tell momma what happened, because she has that serious iron grip on you that all mothers use on their children when they KNOW something isn't right. When you finally admit to her that you inflicted those wounds upon yourself, her heart would break. The first thing she'd wonder is if it was her fault you decided to do this. She'd hold your hands, and let you cry into her shoulder, reminding you again and again how much she loves you and assuring you that she will find you the proper help so that you won't feel the urge to hurt yourself on purpose anymore. She'd do EVERYTHING in her power to keep the environment around you a low-stress one, sending you to work with various teas that had a calming effect on you when you drank them, rocking you to sleep at night and endlessly reminding you she loves you no matter what. Ana would watch you like a hawk, taking it upon herself to make sure you never felt like hurting yourself in such a manner ever again.

BAPTISTE

Discovering that you feel the need to harm yourself absolutely shatters his heart. When he looks at you, he sees his whole world, the treasure of the universe, perfection incarnate, a masterpiece of the gods themselves. He wouldn't at all understand why and how you could hate yourself this way. Despite the fact that this new discovery absolutely killed him inside, he wouldn't let it stop him from getting you the proper assistance, working night and day with little to no sleep to find you all sorts of new outlets and resources so that you could let your stress out safely. He'd begin spending literally all his time on you, halting at nothing to make sure you were beginning to understand that hurting yourself gave you no benefit, rewarding you at the end of every day with kisses and a hot bath, maybe even something more if you asked. Baptiste has no trouble at all giving his heart and soul for you, since you are his everything, and he won't rest until he's got that fact embossed into your mind, hoping you will turn to that instead of ever hurting yourself ever again.

LÚCIO

Our precious frog DJ would immediately blame himself for your self-destructive behavior, being he wasn't around much due to his hectic schedule as an international celebrity. Upon hearing from a friend that you had begun cutting yourself, Lúcio would drop everything and rush home to you. He'd cancel all his shows, interviews, everything, just to spend time with you. And he wasn't going anywhere until he was absolutely sure you had stopped the cutting. He'd bring you to the doctor ASAP, holding your hand at each and every appointment as you worked to end the cycle of thinking that had been leading you to these harmful acts upon yourself. And in the middle of it all, Lúcio would spoil you rotten with love. Gifts, cute dates, anything to remind you he still cared even if he couldn't be at your side. He'd start having you come with him on tour, making sure to dedicate time to you even on his busiest days.

MERCY

Mercy has seen everything, so you wouldn't expect her to have a very big reaction to your wounds. But, you're special to her, and when she discovers you cutting your wrists over the kitchen sink in an attempt to cure yourself of a bad case of depression, she would break down sobbing, pulling you into her arms and hurriedly bandaging your freshly made wounds, begging you to promise her that you'd never do this ever again. Mercy had already lost her parents, she wasn't going to lose you, too, and certainly not to the demon known as depression, the one she already battled herself day and night under the weight of wanting to save every life placed in her hands. But in this moment she would forget about every single one of her patients. Your life is the one that matters to her the most, and she wasn't going to let you throw it away so easily. Mercy would follow you everywhere after this, scared that you would relapse of she turned her back for even a second. She would become your 24/7 guardian angel, holding you at night as she prayed for your condition to better.

MOIRA

Of course, we wouldn't expect this villian to care too much about people hurting themselves, right? Wrong. Moira knows how you feel, especially after she did the same thing to herself years ago. Because of what it had cost her, even though she had adapted to the consequences, she couldn't dare to wish it upon another, not for all the secrets of science in the world to be revealed to her. Moira would sit beside you, brushing her healing hand gently over your cuts and asking you why on Earth you'd think that this was a good solution to your problems. She'd hold you, let you cry and vent, and after you got all your troubles out of your system for now, Moira would promise you that you are certainly not alone in your struggle. She'd begin spending a lot more time with you, convincing you to practice safe stress relievers such as deep breathing or playing with a sensory toy. She'd even reel in the other Talon members, asking them to be extra nice to you, and if they didn't live up to her expectations, they were involuntary subject to having rabbit blood injected into their spine. Moira would want nothing but for you to understand that you're not at all alone and that she is willing to listen to you when you need it.

BRIGITTE

Brig would be a little mad at first, wondering why on Earth you hadn't come to her sooner about your mental health before it had turned into this. Confused and afraid for you, Brigitte would go to Mercy and ask her for a hand in getting you onto the road to recovery. After getting a grip on the situation and helping you get a game plan set to help yourself get better again, Brigitte would be the most supportive person in your life then, rewarding you every time you went a certain period of time without cutting. She'd help you set healthy and attainable goals, keeping you active and busy so you could have something on your mind aside from your struggle. She'd endlessly text you words of affirmation, and taught herself to read you like a book so she could tell when you were stressed even if you didn't tell her. Brigitte would be more than happy to listen to you when you were willing to discuss your thoughts, and if you didn't feel like talking, she wouldn't pry, but instead have you do some deep breathing before recommending the two of you do something productive to keep your mind in a stable place. She'd even let you take one of her cats to work with you so you could have something familiar to you to help you keep calm.

ZENYATTA

Zenyatta might not understand human emotions as much as he'd like to, but he'd give it his all to learn about how you were feeling and understand why you felt so bad about yourself to the point that you felt you needed to cut. He would encourage you to talk about your feelings and he would listen, or if you weren't sure how to talk about your thoughts, he would gladly guide you in meditation that almost always whisked those nasty emotions away. He just felt bad when he couldn't help you much, and in those moments, he would instead hold you calmly, embracing you so lovingly to make sure you knew he was there. Even if your sweat and tears were putting rust on his shoulders, Zenyatta wouldn't let anything stand in the way of his journey to understand you and walk you away from your pain.

LOVE YOURSELF. ❤ Sincerely, Mod Rez ❤

[gryffindorcls]

"I like the way you hand fits into mine" Marinette and Adrian. Love you works!❤

After the angstiness of the last prompt, here is some shameless fluff!

If anyone else would like to submit a prompt ask, the list of what’s left can be found here.

Enjoy!

—

#23 Adrienette:  I like the way your hand fits in mine.

When Nino accidentally told Adrien that Marinette had a crush on him, he didn’t believe it.  He even laughed when his best friend begged him to keep it a secret.  On multiple occasions, Marinette had told him that she just wanted to be his friend.  Up until this point, Adrien believed that her heart belonged to Luka...not him.

Even though he tried to brush it away, the thought of her potential crush kept pushing its way to the forefront of his mind.  There were even nights when it kept him awake.  After two agonizing weeks, he finally decided that he needed to know the truth.  Reluctantly, he asked Alya if there was any credibility to Nino’s claim.  While she was not happy to hear that her boyfriend didn’t keep it a secret, she confirmed the legitimacy of Marinette’s feelings for him.  Adrien was stunned.  

Unfortunately, knowing the truth did not help him sleep...or eat...or function.  If anything, things got worse.  

Initially, he planned on letting Marinette down gently.  He was in love with Ladybug!  His heart belonged to his partner, and he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else.  However, every time he sat down to plan what he was going to say, the right words never came.  The thought of seeing tears in his classmate’s bluebell eyes broke him.  The last thing he wanted to do was make her cry.  The day he came to this conclusion was the day Adrien Agreste realized that he cared about Marinette Dupain-Cheng...a lot.  He didn’t want to just be friends anymore.

Every day at school he would observe her from afar.  She’d always been so jumpy around him. (He now knew that this was a byproduct of her crush.)  While her nervous stammer was endearing at times, he wanted to observe her in her element.  He always thought she was kind, talented, and selfless, but he slowly began to see that she was so much more.  The longer he watched, the more he found himself falling for her.

He discovered that the phrase “everyday Ladybug” didn’t even begin to accurately describe Marinette.  She was even more amazing than Ladybug.  She was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  She was a hero without the mask.  She was an unstoppable force.  Marinette didn’t need magic to make her incredible.  

When he looked at Ladybug, sometimes it was like being in the presence of something otherworldly.  She was untouchable.  While he knew it wasn’t her fault, there had been times he’d felt small and insignificant next to Ladybug.  Marinette could make you feel like you were incredible, too.  She made people feel like they belonged, and that was a superpower that no Miraculous could give to someone.

The day he fell in love with Ladybug, it had been like watching a supernova.  It was fast, bright, and brilliant.  Developing feelings for Marinette was different.  It was like walking out of the shade and into the sunlight.  It took time to feel its effects, but now that he’d embraced it, he never wanted it to stop.  No...he wanted to bask in the warmth of her love forever.

Adrien’s mind soon turned into a battleground.  He struggled with his lingering feelings for Ladybug as his affection for Marinette grew.  It took several months, but over time he was finally able to see Ladybug in a new light.  While he still loved her and cherished their friendship, he decided to stop pursuing her.  After all, she was in love with someone else, and she only saw him as a friend.  As difficult as it was to let Ladybug go, he found contentment in his decision to love Marinette.  

While his feelings for Marinette surprised him, they didn’t feel unfamiliar.  Instead, they felt like treasures that had been buried deep inside his mind the day he met her.  Learning about her crush simply gave him the map to find something that had been there all along.  

His feelings for Marinette weren’t a cheap replacement.  They were stronger than his feelings for Ladybug.  Marinette was someone he could get to know.  There was no “secret identity” barrier that he was forbidden to cross.  He could ask questions and get real answers.  Adrien couldn’t wait to know everything about her.  He soon found himself dreaming of a happy and fulfilling relationship with her.

Six months after Nino’s slip-up, he decided to ask out Marinette.  He walked into school that morning with a nervous flurry of butterflies swirling around his gut.  Even though Adrien was armed with the knowledge of Marinette’s crush, the fear of rejection still pounded against the confidence he’d built up after Plagg’s pep-talk the previous night.

He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Marinette sitting alone on a bench in the courtyard.  It was unusual for her to be this early, and he was not expecting to see her until the start of class.

“What are you waiting for, kid?” Plagg whispered, poking his head out of the side of Adrien’s messenger bag.

“Shhhh!  Someone might hear you!” he scolded while doing his best not to move his lips.

“She’s right there.”

“I need more time.  I’ll talk to her when class starts.”

“No, you don’t.  I’ve listened to ramble on and on about this nonsense for months.  Go talk to her before I Cataclysm your homework.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Plagg grinned.  “Watch me.”

“Fine,” Adrien huffed.

He took a deep breath and began walking towards Marinette.  She was hunched over her sketchbook and appeared to be in deep concentration.  She didn’t even lift her head when he sat down next to her.

He gripped the strap on his bag.  “Good morning, Marinette.”

Her head shot up, and she almost fell off the bench.  As a reflex, he leaned over and caught her by the waist.  Marinette’s eyes grew wide as he gently propped her back up into a sitting position.  His cheeks started to flush when the closeness of their bodies registered in his mind.

Adrien quickly removed his hands and put them in his lap.  “I...uh...sorry.  I just don’t want to see you get hurt.  Umm...are you okay?”

“I...Yanks...I MEAN...yes I am.  Thanks.”  Her face turned bright red.

“God, she’s adorable,” he thought, “It’s now or never...just ask her out.  You can do it.”

Adrien scratched the back of his neck.  “So, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Me?”  She looked shocked.

“Yes, you.”

“O...okay.  I’m listening.”

“Well, we’ve been friends for a while, right?  I admire you a lot, and I think you’re really awesome.  Umm...recently, I’ve been rethinking some things, and I realized that I kind of like you.  No, not kind of...that’s stupid.  I...uh...like you a lot.  I think I’ve liked you since I met you, but I didn’t know what those feelings were at the time.”

“What?”

“I know...it sounds crazy, but...Marinette, I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She stared at the floor.  “I...I...I thought you l-liked someone else.  Last year you said something about a girl who you loved.”

He bit his lip.  “No...I was wrong about my feelings for her.”

“Really?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.  You’re the only one I want to be with.  So, if you’ll have me, I would love to take you out on a date.”

A dazzling smile spread across her face.  “I would love to.  I...I...IREALLYLIKEYOUTOO!”

He laughed as relief washed over him.  “I know.  I kind of found out about your crush, but it’s okay.  I’m happy that I did because it helped me realize how much I admire you.  I’ve always thought that you were amazing and sweet and kind.”

“But I’m a complete spaz around you.”

“You are more than your anxieties, Marinette.  I’ve seen how you take charge during a crisis or how you selflessly help others.  You have a beautiful heart, and no amount of stammering can take that away.”

Before she could answer, the warning bell rang.  Marinette quickly put away her belongings, and before she was able to pick up her bag, Adrien grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder.  

“Oh,” she began, “you don’t have to.”

Adrien smiled.  “I know, but I want to.”

“Okay.  Well, t-thank you.  I appreciate it.”

“I also kind of want to....well, it would be nice...ummm…would it be okay if we held hands?”

She reached out and took his hand, and he responded by lacing his fingers between hers.  Feeling the warmth of her hand in his made him feel safe and loved.  It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  It felt right...no...it felt complete.  Her hand was the missing piece of a puzzle he didn’t know needed to be solved.  

It was at this moment that Adrien knew that he made the right choice.  Marinette was his other half.  How could he have been so blind for so long?  He mentally kicked himself for not taking the time to see her sooner.  Now that he had her, he was never going to give her up.  Adrien knew that a relationship with Marinette was something he needed to cherish and protect.

When they walked into the classroom hand-in-hand, several audible gasps sounded throughout the room.  Chloe huffed as the pair walked past.  Adrien decided to ignore the blonde heiress for the time being.  Even though she was still his friend, he was not going to let her negativity ruin the joy he felt from Marinette’s closeness.

“Okay,” Alya said as they approached their seats, “what happened?”

“I finally asked out Marinette,” Adrien responded with a toothy grin.

“Thank GOD, dude,” Nino exclaimed, “I don’t think you know how much I’ve been wigging out the past few months.  Alya was pretty mad when she found out that I told you.”

Marinette looked at Adrien.  “Told you what?  Wait, that’s how you found out about my crush!”

He squeezed her hand.  “And like I said before...I’m so happy that he did.  It helped me realize that something wonderful was right in front of me all along.  You make me happy, Marinette.  Please don’t be mad at Nino.  I know it wasn’t the coolest of him to tell me, but it really was an accident.  He started freaking out after he said something.  He felt really bad, but honestly, it was the best thing that ever happened to me...because it led me to you.”

Nino hung his head.  “Yeah, my bro is right.  I’m real sorry, dudette.  I’m not the best with my words sometimes.”

Marinette sighed and offered him a small smile.  “It’s okay, Nino.  I forgive you.  Besides, Alya’s wrath is punishment enough.  There’s no need for you to keep feeling bad about it.”

“That’s really cool of you.  My bro is really lucky to have you in his life.”

Adrien looked at Marinette.  “You got that right.  I’m the luckiest person in the whole world right now.”

The final bell rang, and Marinette tried to leave his side and take her seat.  However, Adrien found himself unable to release her hand.

Marinette turned to him.  “Class is about to start.  I’m going to need that had to write.”

He pouted.  “I like the way your hand fits in mine.  I want to keep holding it forever.”

She stood on her tip-toes and gently kissed his cheek.  Without thinking, he let go of her hand and touched the side of his face where her lips had been only moments before.

“What was that for?” he asked, still in shock.

She giggled.  “I wanted to give you something to tide you over until we could hold hands again.”

“How about lunchtime today?”

“I think I can squeeze you in.”

“OH.  MY.  GOD.  That was brilliant.  Girl...that was so smooth,” Alya said next to them while holding up her phone.

“Did you record that?” Marinette exclaimed.

Adrien looked at Alya and grinned.  “Could you send me a copy?”

She gave him a thumbs-up.  “You got it, Sunshine.”

Marinette groaned and banged her head on the table.  “My boyfriend and my best friend are conspiring against me!”

His heart skipped a beat when Marinette called him her boyfriend. The word resonated throughout his mind and flooded his brain with pure bliss.

He leaned over and placed a feathery kiss on the top of her head.   She looked up and smiled.  Adrien knew that this was the start of something wonderful.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 27

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Wednesday, cont’d

Hands in his pockets, Malcolm wandered his way through the house, ruminating on the letter Wally had left him.  In no uncertain terms it had laid out the entire plan, his uncle’s intention behind it, and what was expected of him going forward.

He wanted to be mad- he wanted to rage and scream, to curse Wallace for his meddling, to say to hell with it all and leave, never to return.  Unfortunately, the last paragraph removed the righteous cause of his anger, leaving him feeling empty, small, and ultimately sad.

At the end of it all, you are the son I never had.  Watching you grow and flourish, as a father and a man, has been one of my greatest joys.  Your selflessness knows no bounds, nor does your capacity for love.  I recognize that my methods are unorthodox, but I trust you know my intentions are pure.  You and Rose belong together in every sense of the concept, but I know your heart, your fears.  She does love you, you fool, and all the world can see it – except for you.  Though, if you’re reading this, you do now.  I would not have gone to these lengths if you had only forgiven yourself for the past, and allowed your future to begin.

Above all else, be happy – you have a second chance at love, which not all do.  Use it well.  Treasure her always, and think of me from time to time.

Wallace

P.S.  I expect you to name your first son ‘Wallace’, though I’ll forgive you if it’s a middle name.

Without consciously heading there, he found himself standing outside the art gallery.  His great-grandfather had been an art collector, and most of his acquisitions still hung as he’d arranged, in and amongst family portraits.

I suppose we’ll have to have our portraits done as Lord and Lady, Malcolm mused, standing in the hallway with his hand on the doorknob, not quite ready to enter.  He hadn’t meant to go there, but he knew Rose was inside, and had been drawn to her like a moth to the flame.  I owe her an explanation for my attitude today.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, equally disappointed and relieved she wasn’t in the first room.  Disappointed because he longed to be next to her always, and relieved to have a few more moments to compose himself, uncertain of what he would say or do when he found her.  Crossing the room in long strides, he headed for the door that connected to the second room, finding it slightly ajar and hearing Rose’s voice from the other side.

He paused to be sure he wasn’t interrupting, heart dropping at Rose’s words.

“But that’s just it, Clar, I don’t know.  He’s been so weird since we got here.  I have no idea what he’s feeling.  I mean, he acts like we’re… you know… in some ways, and in others, nothing’s changed except now we have sex!”  She paused, and could hear the eyeroll in her sigh.  “You’re my best friend and I’m in crisis.  You can deal with me talking about shagging your father for one conversation.  If nothing else, you owe me for everything I had to hear at uni- you were not as quiet as you thought you were.”

He could hear his daughter’s squawk from where he was, though not any words.

“Yes, I love him, but I can’t tell him,” Rose said, with the impatient air of someone tired of repeating herself, making his heart leap.  “What if he doesn’t?  I did make the first move!  I agreed to marry him, I invited him into my bedroom under the most obvious ruse known to man- I don’t know how to make it more obvious without saying the words!  He needs- I need him to say it first.  I can’t.  I just- I can’t.”

Heart pounding, a wide smile on his face, Malcolm backed out of the room; he’d heard all he needed to.

Now it was time to plan.

-

Thursday

“Rose,” he murmured, brushing her face out of her hair.  “Time to wake up.”

She whimpered, turning to face into the pillow, making him laugh softly.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”  Leveraging himself up he rained kisses over her hair, the only part of her accessible.  “I have a surprise for you.”  It had been a solid twelve hours since she said she loved him (though not to him), and he was still in awe of that fact.  They loved each other, truly, and it was time for her to know as well.

“Nooooo,” she whined.  “Shag later, sleep now.”

Malcolm snorted.  “It’s not that, it’s a real surprise.  C’mon, you’ll miss it.”

“Fuck you.”

It may have been a result of his unbridled joy and love, or maybe his lack of sleep, but he found her stubbornness in this moment absolutely adorable.  “I promise it’s worth getting up for, my love,” he told her.

That got him a reaction; face turning slightly, one eye opened to peer up at him suspiciously.  He just smiled in response, and after a moment, she groaned, rolled over to her back, and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face.  “Do I need to change?”

“Yes, but loungewear is fine.  You’re changing for temperature only,” he said, hurrying around to her side to help her out of bed.  “I already laid things out for you.”

With an unimpressed expression, equal parts sleepy and mutinous, she did as he asked, pulling her nightgown over her head without any hesitation.  He focused on helping her find her way through the sweatpants and hoodie; there would be time for ogling later, once she Knew.  Kneeling, he guided her feet into her Uggs, before standing and offering her his hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked, a little more awake now- enough to be suspicious, apparently.  “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Just… trust me.”

“Fine,” she said after a moment.  “But I’m gonna need tea.”

He just smiled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.  “I know.”

-

Still yawning, Rose curled around the thermos he’d brought, leaning into his side as he drove down the dark road.

They hadn’t gone too far when he turned off, on the side with the water, and parked the car.

“What’re we doing here?”  She trusted him absolutely, but everything about the situation seemed right out of a true crime show episode.

Perhaps sensing her hesitation, he smiled kindly down at her.  “We’re going to watch the sunrise out over the Sea.”

“The Sea?”  They got out, and he held her hand, guiding her down the path to the water while carrying a picnic basket.

“North Sea- we’re only about 14 miles from the coast.  By the time we get down there, the sun will be almost ready.”

She stopped walking, peering up into his face in the dark.  “You’re taking me out to the North Sea to watch the sunrise.”

“Yes.”  His tone shifted, coming across unsure as he asked, “Is that okay?”

Surging up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips firmly against his for a fleeting moment, grateful for the dark as her cheeks flushed.  “Very much so.  Now, lead on.”

The dock came into view then, a solitary light pole illuminating the area, and she gasped at seeing the boat tied up.  “Is that a yacht?”  For reasons unknown she’d been expecting something small, perhaps a dinky little rowboat, though in hindsight that seemed absurd to travel fifteen miles out to sea in.

“Technically it’s a ‘cabin cruiser’.  Difference is in the size.”

“That’s what she said.”

He shot her an amused glance as they stepped carefully onto the dock.  “This is the cleverly-named Gallifrey II.  It’s a good twenty years old, but still in good condition.  Jack takes her out every so often, oversees her maintenance.  I promise it’s safe.”

Relatively-speaking she knew it wasn’t particularly large, but it had a little deck at the back, and appeared to have an indoor section.  It looked like something she’d seen on telly, showing marinas throughout the world.  It didn’t show it’s age, looking bright and clean, though if Jack was using it to romance his boyfriend, she would expect nothing less.

“Right,” Malcolm said brusquely, leaning over the side to put the basket on out of the way, “ready?”

A little nervous, but willing to trust him, she let her tongue peek out from between her teeth.  “Depends.  Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

He just laughed, offering her his hand.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

-

Rose burrowed further into the woven blanket, moving the edge of it to cover her nose.  It was cold, sailing out to sea in the dark.  Malcolm was at the helm, steering the boat, and she’d chosen to stay with him, perched on the small seating area on top of the boat, right behind him.  She could barely see him, mostly just an outline, but she still felt safe and cozy despite the temperature.  Her better judgement was telling her to go down into the cabin out of the cold, but she resisted the urge, choosing instead to stay with her husband, watching the lights along the coast zip by.

Her nerves were doing their best to keep her warm though, as she wondered what this all meant.  The idea of it was certainly romantic, and she was hoping for a confession of love, something to put her fears to rest and allow her heart to be free, but she was trying to temper those hopes so she wouldn’t be disappointed if she was wrong.

She wanted to be right.

“Just another minute or so,” Malcolm called behind him as the coast seemed to curve.  “I want to make sure we’re out of the way, but with no view obstructions.”

“Okay,” she shouted back, unsure if he could hear her.  Other boats were in the waters now, ones like theirs, fishing boats, and ferries all starting their day early as well.  She could just hear shouts and calls in the distance, see people greeting each other as if they were passing on the street instead of at sea.  She hadn’t been on the boat all that long, but already she could picture them taking sailing trips, exploring the world by sea, maybe with a few sleepy children pressed up against her, waiting for the sun to rise as they did now.

She liked the image.

The noise of the engine abruptly cut, dropping to almost nothing, as Malcolm made his way back to her.  “Here’s as good a spot as any, I think,” he said, picking up the basket and setting it on the seat next to her.  “Budge up, let me behind you.”

They shifted around, eventually settling with him in the corner, Rose snug up to his front and the blanket encircling both of them.  His arms were tight around her waist, holding her close, and she felt… loved.  The words were on the tip of her tongue when he inhaled sharply.

“Look.”

She followed his fingers to a spot where the darkness seemed to be lightening.  Slowly the sun rose as they sipped at their tea, Rose relaxing back into his comfortable chest and strong grip.  This is heaven.  Those three words hovered on the tip of her tongue; so strong was the urge she said nothing lest they slip out of their own free will.

It didn’t take long for the sun to clear the horizon, bathing everything in beautiful hues of pink and orange, so spectacular it belonged on a postcard.

“What did you think?” Malcolm murmured in her ear, once the best of it was over.  “Worth getting up?”

She turned so she could see him, careful to not disturb their nest of blankets too much and let the cold air in.  “Oh, it was incredible.  Thank you.  I just- there are no words.”  That was a lie; there were three, but she didn’t dare risk ruining the moment.

Malcolm smiled back, but it faded quickly as his eyes searched hers, making her heart pound in anticipation.

Say it, her heart whispered to him.  Tell me, so I can tell you, and we can be happy forever.  Say it.  Please.

“Rose…”

Here it is!

“We need to talk.”

What?

[nitewrighter]

Like every couple i figure Genji and Mercy would have some arguments. Do you think they could have a really big dispute ? What would it be about ? Maybe a little fic about it ? :D (sorry if my english is bad)

—–

 They were both tired. Genji had been off-watchpoint on several missions that had taken days at a time, only to return to the watchpoint to find Mercy pulling all-nighters at the lab. He couldn’t blame her, exactly–and what could he ask her to do? Put her lab work on hold so she could coddle him? With Talon breathing down their necks? That was one of the hard parts about loving someone so devoted to their work, someone who insisted on shouldering so much of the team. He was used to distance with her, more used to than he liked to be, but on the third night he found himself alone in their apartment, he decided enough was enough.

Usually Genji treasured their late-night talks in the lab, but tonight the lights overhead were cold, sterile, flickering and annoying.

“…still working on the Reaper samples?” he leaned his head into the lab.

“Nanites, and yes. Sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner,” Mercy was frowning through her microscope, 

“It’s okay,” said Genji, leaning on the wall of the lab.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“So,” said Genji, “How goes progress?”

“It’s difficult to say,” said Mercy, still looking through the microscope, “From what I can tell, without biotics or a stable host body, or, cloud, the nanites quickly destabilize. They affect human cells like a retrovirus, essentially rewriting it to be able to switch between an organic and a nanite state, so the question is, how can I force nanites back to an organic state?”

“They would… probably need to be a part of their host body to do that?” Genji suggested.

“Maybe I could replicate the neurological signal,” Mercy muttered, more to herself than to Genji, “But presumably neurological cells are converted to nanites as well… ugh!” she pulled up from her microscope and rubbed her eyes, “The nanites can’t seem to infect themselves cross-species, I can’t make rat nanite cells from scratch, and even if I could make a nanite-infected rat, I still don’t have any idea what compounds were used in the SEP program and–and–!” she grunted in frustration, “I’m going in circles.”

Maybe it was the jet-lag from the last Orca trip, but the words fell out of Genji, “If you’re going nowhere, you don’t have to keep going, Angela.”

Mercy looked up at him. “I’m sorry?”

“I know nanites as a technology is a big threat, but it’s one only wielded by Talon. If we just… focus on taking out Talon, then we take out nanites along with it,” he shrugged, “Seems fairly straightforward.”

“…you’re saying don’t bother figuring out what went wrong with Reaper, and just kill him,” Mercy said flatly.

“Well… he tried to kill us,” said Genji.

“I can’t believe you,” Mercy brought her eyes up from the microscope, “I can’t believe you—!”

“I’m only saying it’s okay to back down from—”

“This is my technology, Genji! I have a responsibility to it! I’m the only one who can figure out a cure for him!”

“You said this wasn’t about curing him! You said this was about stopping his condition before Talon could replicate it!” Genji paused, “I mean, and considering they have Moira, it’s not unlikely they haven’t already replicated it.”

Mercy visibly bristled at the mention of Moira and Genji realized what he was saying wasn’t alleviating her annoyance in the slightest.

“I do have to do this, Genji,” said Mercy, pacing around the lab counter.

“You’re burning the candle at both ends, it’s already impacting your infirmary work here on the watchpoint, if it starts impacting your performance on missions–”

“What are you talking about?!”

“You missed two appointments with our fellow agents because you were busy with that… stuff–”

“These nanite samples are time-sensitive! God forbid one of the junkers is stuck with the sniffles for another day though!”

“…Angela, you’re obsessed,” Genji said flatly.

“Obsessed!?” fury deepened her voice.

“You would never put something like this over a patient! I know you still feel guilty about what happened at Zurich–”

“Stop–stop–don’t–don’t pull that Shambali nonsense–”

“Nonsense!?”

She huffed. “You know what I mean–”

“Oh so because I’m able to grow past my problems in a way you can’t control, then it’s nonsense!”

“NONSENSE IS YOU PSYCHOANALYZING ME ON SOMETHING YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA ABOUT BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T THERE!” Mercy shouted and then immediately caught herself. She shut her eyes and furrowed her brow, taking a few breaths to try and collect herself. “Genji–Just… let me do my work.”

“I’m worried about you, Ange–”

“Please.”

Genji took a deep breath. “I’ll be back at the apartment.”

—-

Mercy didn’t come back to their apartment that night. She swore to herself she would just take a quick power nap on the couch in the break area near the lab, and ended up passing out. She slept until a shaft of sunlight fell on her through one of the windows, then grunted in her sleep and turned away from it, only to have a warm liquid splash on her side, sending her awake.

“Hey!” Mercy looked at the tea stain on her lab coat.

“Good morning,” Ana stood over her.

Mercy rubbed at her eyes and sat up, “Unless it’s an emergency, Lúcio is fully capable of looking after the infir–”

“This isn’t about the infirmary,” said Ana.

Mercy’s brow furrowed and she pulled herself up further, no longer splayed across the couch and allowing Ana to take a seat next to her. Ana sipped at her tea.

“Here’s the thing,” said Ana, “The insulation between your lab and Athena’s main monitor room is very thin. And Jack and I tend to burn the midnight oil just as much as you.”

“Ach du scheisse–” Mercy pressed her hand against her forehead, “You didn’t–”

“Jack passed out. I heard the whole thing,”

“Well it wasn’t any of your business–”

“Overwatch consumed one of the greatest loves of my life, Angela. It consumed both of Jack’s,” said Ana, “I think we all learned too late that half the fight is making sure the team is all on the same side.”

Mercy made a face.

“It seems obvious, but it isn’t. Not as much as you’d think. We’re all here because we want to stop Talon, but some of us have different ideas as to what stopping Talon looks like. Some of us get frustrated with the methods of the organization as a whole. I don’t think I’ve properly expressed to you that that’s why Jack and I value you as a part of this team now more than ever.”

“Because I hated the militarism of the previous Overwatch?” said Mercy.

“And you were well within your rights to. But now,” Ana clasped her hand around her teacup, “I… I don’t believe that, as an organization, we’ve ever been as single-minded as we are now.”

“…and this has, what exactly, to do with my fight with Genji?” said Mercy.

“What you and Genji have was forged in Overwatch’s fight. It’s not like the relationships Jack and I struggled to keep alive through the Crisis. It’s not part of a world we struggled to keep alive even though we knew our circumstances would leave it forever changed. It’s yours. And I can’t, in good conscience, let you make my mistakes.”

“Your mistakes…?”

“Pushing people away when you’re at your most scared,” said Ana, “Fearing the loss of the things you love so much that you sacrifice that love.”

Mercy snorted. “I’m not scared—”

“Work can be one of the few places we feel control. More than our relationships–”

“More than a watchpoint full of idiots constantly hurting themselves…” Mercy said quietly, but then she huffed, “More psychoanalysis—”

“Angela you should know by now this whole organization is a mess of traumas and neuroses,” said Ana flatly, “Fighting Talon is important–taking back your creations that talon has corrupted is important… but so is the life you’re fighting for.”

Mercy bit the inside of her lip. “I really bit his head off, didn’t I?” she muttered.

“Well to be fair, it wasn’t very thoughtful of him to just shrug off weeks of work for you like that and reduce our fight with Talon to something that simple, but yes. You bit his head off,” said Ana, “But Angela–this is the most important question: do you still see a life with him beyond this fight?”

“The… fight we just had…?” Mercy’s brow crinkled.

“The fight with Talon,” said Ana.

Mercy tucked her hair back. “Sometimes it’s so hard to imagine that this fight could someday end…” she said quietly, “But… when I come home to him… I know there’s no one else I’d rather see.”

Ana gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Take a nap and a shower,” she said, “Then extend the olive branch.”

“You threw tea on me,” said Mercy.

“A necessary sacrifice of a perfectly good cup of darjeeling to get your head out of your ass,” said Ana.

Mercy smiled weakly.

—-

Genji was meditating in his usual spot overlooking the sea cliffs when his visor brightened with alertness. He looked over his shoulder to see Angela standing a few feet behind him.

“Are my footsteps that loud?” Mercy asked quietly.

“No I just… I’ve… gotten good at telling when it’s you,” said Genji, turning back around to look at the horizon.

“Can I…?” Mercy started.

Genji glanced over his shoulder at her again, then scooted over to let her sit down next to him. She took her seat and another few beats of silence passed between them. Not tense, like the last time, but tired.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and calling what the Shambali did nonsense. I don’t think it’s nonsense. I was just…angry.”

“I was treating you like a child,” said Genji and Mercy perked up.

“I was acting childish,” Mercy returned.

“No, I mean–well, yes, but… I was dealing with you the way Zenyatta deals with me, and I’m not your teacher. I’m your partner. And trying to take back your work from Talon, trying to undo what Talon did with it… that’s not an obsession, and… you put in so much work, it was callous of me to just say you should walk away from it,” he pressed his fingers to the catches of his helmet and took off his faceplate, showing his scarred face, “So I’m sorry too.”

“I was definitely more of the asshole though,” said Mercy.

“It’s not a competition Angela,” said Genji with a slight smirk. 

“Do you think I’m controlling?” asked Mercy.

Genji blinked.

“You just… that part about the Shambali being something I didn’t control…” Mercy trailed off, “If you need more space–”

“I wanted you to quit poring over those nanites because I missed you,” said Genji smiling a little, “Well, that and the infirmary and the lack of sleep… But… I don’t think you’re controlling. I think… the way we’re living now, it’s very easy to feel like things are beyond our control, so we take what we can get. In your case you dive into work and in my case I withdrew from the situation and ended up coming off as… a condescending jerk who treats you like you’re unstable.”

“I was on hour 33 without sleep. I don’t think you could call that stable,” said Mercy with a smirk.

His smile faded, “I am still worried about you though.”

“Mm,” Mercy nodded, “I’m… I’m glad you are. I mean, I’m not glad you’re worried, but I’m glad I have you in my life to care about me like this. I was thinking… I’d put the nanite samples on ice for a while.”

“Would that work?” Genji tilted his head.

“Well, if Mei could survive, presumably we could find a way keep those cells stable. I just have to be willing to ask for help,” said Mercy, “If I’m getting nowhere pouring all this hours into obsessing over them, I probably need to step back.”

“You don’t have to do that for my sake–” Genji started.

“I’m doing it for our sakes,” said Mercy, “It wouldn’t be that long, anyway. Enough to get back on top with infirmary work and…” she glanced over at him, “Get back in touch with what I’m fighting for.” 

“And sleep,” said Genji, “Please.” he pressed his hands together in front of himself, “I’m begging you. Please sleep.”

Mercy snorted. “Fine, and sleep.”

Genji smiled and let his hands relax into his lap again.

“Genji?” Mercy spoke up again.

“Mm?”

“Do you see us having a life beyond this fight?”

“…the fight we just had?”

“No, the big fight. The Overwatch fight.”

“Remember that time we were at that gala, and we pretended we were married and I gave us three kids and a dog?” Genji arched an eyebrow.

Mercy snorted. “You were serious about that?”

“Well, not that serious but I did like the idea of it. Just… us having that little life together. Or maybe I just like the idea of making the Shimada clan roll in their graves by being a ninja-turned-househusband.”

Mercy grinned.

“But… to answer your question, yes,” said Genji, “A life with you is one of the things I’m fighting for. I mean, yes, of course there’s ‘Talon is evil and must be stopped’ but also I love you. And you want to see a kinder, more peaceful world. I want to see that world with you.” He reached over and took her hand.

Mercy’s eyes were wet and shining again. she blinked a few times and rubbed at them. “I love you too,” she said, smiling, “So we’re… all right?”

“We’re all right,” said Genji, “But, if you ever need to talk more about it…”

Mercy smiled. He gave her hand a squeeze and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“So we should probably call Mei to get some cryo storage for those…” Genji glanced down to see Mercy had closed her eyes and her breathing had slowed. He smiled a little. A short little nap probably wouldn’t hurt.

[jade4813]

Stardust

Title: Stardust

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Three months after Barry's disappearance in Crisis on Infinite Earths, Iris looks up at the stars and ponders the destiny that brought him to her...and took him away. Written for @westallenmeetupffe - the Westallen Meet Up Fanfiction Event because I love @backtothestart02 too much to say no.

Chapters: 1/1

“Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics. You are all stardust… The stars died so you could be here today.”

- Lawrence M. Krauss

July 25, 2019

Iris hated the stars, she decided as she threw a fulsome glare at the sky, hoping some errant clouds would get the point and hide the twinkling lights from view.

Well, okay, she admitted to herself on a disgusted sigh. She didn't hate the stars. It wasn't their fault that they made her miss Barry. A light breeze blew across her cheek, as soft as his touch, and she closed her eyes. Her head tilted back towards the sky, she wrapped her arms around her waist and breathed deeply, imagining the arms around her were not her own. If she tried hard enough, she could almost remember the exact smell of his skin, as clearly as she remembered the deep rumble of his voice in his chest when he held her.

"So, Iris? How about it? It’s a beautiful night, and everyone agreed to take over Flash duty for me. I’m all yours. Want to go out and look at the stars?" he suggested with a grin, leaning back against the kitchen island, the movement causing his muscles to flex and shift in a tantalizing fluidity of movement.

He had done this more and more frequently over the past few months, stealing time away for the two of them to be alone together. Neither of them were strong enough to admit why. They didn’t have much time left to enjoy these precious moments, and they knew it. Barry’s disappearance – and apparent death – was foretold in a newspaper from the future. They had resolved not to give in to despair, determined to fight fate. And yet it was a dark cloud that hovered over them, stealing the lives they had dreamt of building together with every second that ticked by.

Iris pursed her lips. “All right,” she conceded. In all honesty, she’d accompany Barry anywhere. To another planet, another world, another time, another reality. Anywhere he wanted to go, just for the chance to hoard these precious seconds with him.

Kicking off her shoes, she dug her toes into the soft, muddy ground at the edge of the water. Night after night, she was drawn to the lake where Barry had once told her they’d shared their first kiss, before he accidentally travelled through time and erased it. Where they’d finally exchanged their wedding vows after their planned ceremony was interrupted.

Her eyes stung, and Iris told herself it must have been due to the wind as she dropped her arms and pulled her gaze away from the sky. She heard laughter behind her, and turned to find a couple strolling by on the street. In response, she scooted a little further down the riverbank, not wanting to relinquish her moment of privacy just yet.

There were so many memories of herself and Barry, just the two of them. She couldn’t count the number of nights that she’d laid in bed, her mind reliving every detail of their time together. Sometimes those memories brought her comfort. Sometimes – like tonight – her memories of the past were an open wound that bled and ached with every beat of her heart.

Not long ago, Cisco had asked her if she regretted loving Barry, knowing she would one day lose him. They had been through so much together, and the truth was, it wasn’t the first time she’d lost him. Still, this was different, and Iris understood what Cisco meant but refused to say. Every time she lost Barry in the past – even when he sacrificed himself to the speed force – there had been a sliver of hope that he would come back to her. Even when that hope hurt too much to hold on to, it was there. But now? Barry had disappeared, just like the newspaper had foretold. Nora, their erased daughter from the future, had once revealed that he would never return. If the newspaper headline – the headline Iris herself wrote – was true, then didn’t that mean all of it was true?

Iris would never regret knowing Barry. Loving Barry. She treasured every single second he had been a part of her life. He used to talk about destiny as something to treasure, because it always brought him to her. For her, destiny had become something to hate, because it always took him away. Still, she could remember his voice in her ear the night before he disappeared.

“Promise me this isn’t the end, Barry,” she murmured, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they laid there in the dark. “Whatever happens tomorrow, promise you’ll come back to me.”

“I’ll come back to you, Iris. I’ll always come back to you,” he breathed into her hair, his voice cracking slightly from his sorrow. It made his attempts to comfort her even more heartbreaking. “What that newspaper says…it doesn’t have to be our destiny.”

Her fingers dug into his side as she pulled him even closer, as though she could protect him from the future if she only held him tight enough. “Don’t say that word. I don’t want to hear it ever again!” she swore vehemently. “I hate it! It seems every time we talk about destiny, it’s our destiny to lose each other. There’s no such thing as destiny, Barry! I don’t believe in it, and you shouldn’t either! We’ve changed the future before and we’ll do it again tomorrow.”

Barry shifted, and when she looked up at him, he pressed a kiss against her lips. “I don’t hate destiny. It was my destiny to love you. How could I hate anything that brought me to you?”

But she didn’t have his appreciation for destiny. Particularly when she thought about the nights they had curled up in each other’s arms and talk about the future they envisioned sharing in a lifetime of tomorrows. Tomorrows that would never come.

“He would love this,” she sighed as she stared back up at the sky. Like she had on that night, when he carried her out here to show her the stars. Had it really only been three months since she’d lost him? It felt somehow both like a fraction of an instant and an endless eternity.

“Come on, just a little bit further,” Barry urged, grabbing her by the hand as he led her to the edge of the water.

“You know, we could have gone anywhere. Somewhere we could see more than six stars, even,” she pointed out with a laugh. She loved the city she called home, but its bright lights drowned out most of the visible stars.

He shrugged and threw her an unrepentant grin. “I know. But this place has a special place in my heart. Can you blame me?”

The sun would be rising soon, but when Barry slid behind her and looped his arms around her waist, Iris decided it could take its time. She leaned back against his chest and sighed, feeling more at peace than she’d ever found herself to be with anyone else. As they stood in silence, he bowed his head and brushed a soft kiss against her shoulder, and she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

It was such a perfect moment, and Iris had reiterated her determination right then that nothing would ever change between them. That nothing could take him away. Even after everything that had happened between them over the years – secret identities, evil speedsters, time travel, death and disappearances and even imprisonment – she still had that feeling of peace and contentment when she was with him. Perhaps she always would.

There was something about Barry that had always come so easily to her. Which was probably why she couldn’t help but love him for most of her life. Even though she’d tried to deny her feelings for years because the very thought of loving someone that much scared her more than she could say.

A young Iris stared as the car lights disappeared around the corner. Her mommy had promised that her daddy would be home soon, before her voice cracked as she swore fiercely that she loved her very much. But now she was gone, and Iris was alone. Somehow, even at six years old, she knew deep down that her mommy wasn’t coming back. Her fingers pressed against the windowsill, and her breath fogged the window. Her little nose pressed against the glass, and she strained her eyes, trying to catch one last sight of the car.

When she could no longer see even a faint red glow, her eyes drifted to the sky. Her mommy used to sit with her beside this windowsill at night while she read her a bedtime story. And then, every once and a while, her mommy would point up at the stars and tell her to make a wish. She used to say that sometimes people got their wishes, but Iris was beginning to suspect that was just one of those things grownups told little kids, even though it wasn’t true.

But maybe it was worth one last try. Iris nibbled on the inside of her lip as her eyes scanned the sky, looking for a star that looked like it had promising wish-granting potential. She finally picked one that seemed to twinkle just a little bit more than the rest, and then she scrunched up her face and wished with all her might.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…” she dutifully recited, lisping a little through the brand new gap left behind by a missing tooth. Technically, this wasn’t the first star she’d spotted tonight, but she hoped the stars wouldn’t mind. “I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

A little crease formed between her brows as she concentrated as hard as she could. She wanted her mommy to come back. She wanted her daddy to not have to work all the time, getting called away even on her birthday. She wanted someone to love her too much to leave her behind. Pressing her palms hard against the glass, she squeezed her eyes shut and whispered her deepest wish towards the sky.

For years, Iris had built defenses around her heart, had from the very thought of being in love. She’d accepted that love was great in theory, but it was terrifying in practice. To love someone and lose them…? She couldn’t think of anything worse. So when Barry had come along, she’d been his friend for years while telling herself she didn’t want anything more. And then…well, everything had changed. He was struck by lightning, spending months in a coma. It was the worst kind of heartache because he wasn’t even hers, and she’d lost him anyway.

When he awoke, she didn’t realize her feelings for him right away. But it wouldn’t be long before she did, and perhaps it was inevitable that she would. Her love for Barry had only grown year by year, until it was deeper than she ever could have dreamed possible. Loving him was both more wonderful and more painful than she’d ever imagined.

She’d been compelled to drive out to see the stars tonight after hours spent thinking about all the singular, insignificant events that, combined, led to the two of them meeting. Becoming friends. Becoming…something more. Falling in love. Finding each other again and again and again.

It was almost enough to make her wonder if it he was right, no matter how much she wanted to rail against the thought now. It wasn’t an accident that the two of them had found each other. That, perhaps, he was right about destiny.

“Why the sudden desire to see the stars tonight?” she asked, leaning against his solid warmth.

In reply, Barry grabbed her hand, linking his fingers in hers. Then he held them up so she could see. “Carl Sagan once said that every part of the world around us – every part of us – is made from the remnants of collapsing stars. That we’re made of starstuff, flung across the universe until eventually – miraculously – coming together to make us who we are.”

“That’s…kind of beautiful,” she breathed, turning in his arms and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“But think about it, Iris. The atoms that make up who we are came from hundreds of thousands of stars that died billions, maybe trillions, of light years away. They came all this way to create me and create you. And everything that we’ve gone through together, we’ve found each other again and again and again. If I lived a hundred lifetimes, I’d love you in every one of them.”

“I’d love you too, Barry,” she said with a puzzled frown. “But I’m not sure what that has to do with why you wanted to come out here tonight.”

He smiled, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Because if all those atoms travelled all that way to be part of me and part of you, then I can’t help but feel like it couldn’t have been for nothing. I was born to love you, Iris, and no matter what we face in the future, I’ll find you again. Whatever happens, when you look up at the stars, I want you to remember that.”

With a sigh, tilted her head back to look up at the sky one last time. She thought of fate. Of stardust. And of all the moments that had to fall into place for the two of them to find each other. Again and again. It was almost enough to make her want to believe in fate. And maybe even a little bit in magic.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight,” she murmured. Then she closed her eyes and wished, as hard as she could, that if the stars brought Barry to her once, they could do it again. That they could bring Barry back to her. 

Hoping that, this time, her wish would come true.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi hello do you have any friendship fics? I'm a Johnlocker forever but I'd like to read some cute platonic stuff too

Hi Lovely!

YES! I also love just cute platonic stuff too! AND you know what? I’ve made lists in the past, but I just checked my offline list and I have a TONNE of new ones I can add here for you too! Soooooooooooo Here we go!

PLATONICS / BROMANCE / FRIENDSHIP Pt. 3

See also:

Platonics and Domestics

Platonics & Domestics Pt 2 / Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 3 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 4 / Love Confessions, Slow Burn & Dev. Rel. Pt. 2 / Established Relationship Pt. 3

G / T / K+ Rated Christmas Fics (Dec. 2018)

T-RATED Pt. 1: Friends To Lovers Fics || [MOBILE LINK]

T-Rated Fics Pt. 2 (October 2018) (LONG POST) || MOBILE POST

The Moment When by drekadair (K, 509 w. || TGG Fic, Friendship, First Person POV Sherlock, Introspection, Worried Sherlock) – Sherlock sees John in the pool, and doubts. Set during the end of "The Great Game."

Promises Kept by grannysknitting (K+, 844 w. || John POV, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Sherlock’s Violin, Worried Sherlock, John Whump, Post-TGG) – When they were in hospital, Sherlock made a promise to himself. Now he's keeping it. Set after 'Polygamous Marriage' but before 'Back in the Saddle'

Possessive by Fang323 (T, 850 w. || John Whump, Hospitalization, Possessive / Protective Sherlock, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – His John did not belong. Not here. Not in this blasted hospital. It simply was not logical.

Concussions And Good Old Fashioned Awkwardness by Belldere (K+, 894 w. || Humour, Hospitals, Mild John Whump, Misunderstandings, Platonic Relationship, Concussions, Not-Gay John, Possessive Sherlock) – When John lands himself in hospital... again, all he wants is to just get out of there as soon as possible, too bad his doctor has other ideas about where John may be getting his injuries. Good thing concussions make everything strangely funnier.

Easy like Sunday Morning by lbmisscharlie (G, 910 w. || Fluff, Breakfast in Bed, Epic Friendship, Platonics/Domestics) – John and Sherlock and their lazy, dysfunctional Sunday mornings in bed. In which Sherlock has difficulty sleeping and John makes lots of toast. Shameless fluff. Part 1 of No Mushrooms Please

Realisation by Susie.Donym (K+, 957 w. || Sally POV, Pre-Slash / Friendship, Humour) – It takes her a while but Sally finally makes a huge realisation.

God Save The Queen by Alice Day (K+, 1,398 w. || Humour, Mystery, Friendship) – Sherlock has a new case. John is petrified. The Queen is amused.

I Was Wrong by AllesandraQuartermaine (K, 1,496 w. || TGG AU, Friendship, Hospitalization / Injury, John’s Self Esteem, Sleepy Sherlock) – Sherlock and John have a conversation a few days after the pool face off with Moriarty. And John hears something quite surprising.

Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they've chosen to stick together after all that's happened.

One in Ten Thousand by Blind Author (K+, 1,856 w. || Post-TGG, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Discussions of Violence, Worried then Curious Sherlock, Scars/John’s Bullet Wound, Medical Anomolies) – John seems to have unusual mobility for a shoulder wound…

The Adventure of the Mysterious Appearance of Tissues by Gwen's Blue Box (K+, 1,910 w. || Fluff, Humour, Sick John, Caring Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort) – In which there is a case, John has caught a cold and is not interested in investigating, Mrs Hudson is away and Sherlock does the shopping.

Never Have I Ever by Hannelore-Grace (T, 2,073 w. || Humour, Friendship, Drinking Games) – In which the Yarders, Sherlock, and John play the time-honored drinking game.

Drums and Fireworks by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 2,121 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Platonic Cuddles) – "Are... Are you afraid of THUNDERSTORMS?" John asked incredulously.

The Case of the Missing Blogger by nicknack22 (K, 2,147 w. || Fluff, Humour, Friendship, Worried / Anxious Sherlock) – Alternately titled, The Case of the Oblivious Consulting Detective. In which Sherlock comes out of his mind palace to discover John missing. 221B does not fair well as a result.

Aestival by BeautifulFiction  (G, 1,254 w. || Fluff, Pre-Slash) – There is such a thing as a perfect day.

They're Taking My Wisdom by whitchry9 (K+, 1,939 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Drugging, Dentists, Friendship, Anxious Sherlock, Humour) – Sherlock goes to the dentist. Of course, being Sherlock, things have to be complicated. Oh and drugs. They're always fun.

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

Treasure Hunt by ThessalyMc (K, 2,288 w. || ASiB Missing Scene, Danger Nights, Friendship / Family, Seek and Find Game, Smoking) – Mycroft called them 'danger nights' because he feared Sherlock's mood might drive him back to drugs. John knows better. Doesn't stop him tearing apart the flat he knows is clean, though. He's not looking for drugs, though. He's setting up a distraction.

Work On Your Balance by speculate (K+, 2,448 w. || Embarassed Sherlock, “For A Case”, Skating, Fluff, Friendship, Humour) – In which John is actually pretty good at ice skating, Sherlock's not and insists it's all for a case , and Lestrade is pretty amused by it all.

The Many Faces of Concern by sdrawkcabemdaer5 (K+, 2,473 w. || Friendship, Angsty Fluff, John Whump, Mildly Clueless Sherlock) – John is injured on a case, leading to some surprising reactions and discoveries about their friendship.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John's danger days.

Domino by Deception's Call (K, 2,689 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Scared / Worried Sherlock, John Whump, Crying Sherlock, Hospital, Implied Caretaker Sherlock) – When John is injured on a case and is admitted to the hospital, those at Scotland Yard come to realize that perhaps Sherlock Holmes has a heart after all.

Not My Proudest Moment by charlock221 (K, 2,695 w. || Lunar New Year, Mild PTSD / Panic Attack, Coping Mechanisms, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – John tries his best not to get in the way of Sherlock's cases, but when the vivid noises of fireworks unnerve his senses and begin to bring back unwanted memories of Afghanistan, he cannot help but to hope Sherlock will notice and help him before things go too far.

Bored Games by patster223 (K+, 2,769 w. || Cluedo / Board Games, Friendship, Humour) – Sherlock is bored and John decides that they should play Cluedo. In retrospect, it was a truly awful decision.

After the Bombs by VampirePam (T, 3,337 w. || THoB AU, Drugs, John’s PTSD, Panic Attack, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In which the drugs Sherlock used to dose John trigger a severe episode of PTSD. When terrors old and new cause John to fall apart, Sherlock must rectify his mistake and pick up the pieces.

Bored Games by SparksMayFly (K, 3,492 w. || Humour, Friendship, Cluedo / Board Games, Big Brother Mycroft) – Sherlock asks if he can take Reverend Green in for interrogation. John explains that's not how the game works.

Carrying the Torch by chappysmom (K+, 4,254 w. || Friendship, "Hero” / Olympian John, Olympic Games, Sherlock’s in Awe Over John) – Just in time for the 2012 London Olympics, Sherlock discovers John's hidden passion for the Games—but it turns out, there's so much more to it than just sports.

Afghanistan in Baskerville by Amaya Ramiel (K+, 4,357 w. || THoB Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drugged John, PTSD / Panic Attack, Hallucinations, Worried Sherlock, John’s Past, Friendship) – What if John hadn't seen the hound when Sherlock trapped him in the lab? What if instead, his very real nightmares of the war had materialized all around him? Trapped and drugged, John can't tell what's real and what's not. How will Sherlock react?

What You Are Worth by Lastew (T, 4,488 w. || Observant but Insecure John, Friendship, Crime / Case Fic) – John helps Sherlock with a case, but he questions his real value to Sherlock.  

The Care and Keeping of Your Mad Genius by Janieshi (T, 4,553 w. || Post-TGG, Friendship, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Light Humour/Teasing, Alternating POV, Cranky Sherlock) – If he hadn't been so focused on holding the bastard still, John would have laughed aloud. This maniac really thought John was the pet in this dynamic?

The Refining Fire by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 5,451 w. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Friendship, Alternating POV (Lestrade, Mycroft, Sherlock), Worried Sherlock, Hospital Recovery) – Fire can burn things to ashes, but it can also burn things together.

Hide and Seek by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 6,934 w. || Angst, Rev. Reich-ish, Mycroft is a Dick, Depression, Case Fic-ish, Friendship, Reunion) – Pseudo sequel to "The Refining Fire." "You owe him the truth, and you owe me the proof that will convince him that I had no part in this."

A Friend Indeed by Sanru (K+, 8,190 w. || Missing John, Friendship, Drama, Introspection, Possessive Sherlock, Worried Sherlock) – Something has gone terribly wrong with a supposedly simple case. John Watson is missing. While the search for him is proving to be fruitless, it has made Sherlock realize that having an emotional attachment to someone may have its disadvantages but he liked being able to call John his friend. Now if only he could find out what happened to him...

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

A Is For Aftermath by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 10,567 w. || Injury / Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Pre-Slash/Bromance/Platonics, Hallucinations, Introspection, Insecure / Worried John, Big Brother Mycroft, Alternating POV, Anxious Sherlock, Self-Deprecating, Mildly Possessive Sherlock, 3G Moment) – John is still hallucinating, Sherlock cannot sleep, and Lestrade has a new case for them. But will life at 221B ever be able to return to normal? Epilogue to M is for Moriarty.

The Hand You're Dealt by MapleleafCameo (M, 10,624 w. || Humour, Friendship, Card Games, Alternate First Meeting, No Slash / Platonic Relationship) – John wouldn't have minded so much if only Sherlock would stop introducing him as 'John Watson. I won him in a poker game.’

The Dying Doctor by Transcendental Starlight (T, 11,258 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John / John Whump, ACD Rewrite) – Loosely based off ACD's "The Dying Detective." Sherlock relives a case that should have killed him, but instead resulted in John being hospitalized for a deadly disease. Sherlock endeavors to catch the murderer, while attempting to envision a future without John Watson. No Slash.

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."

Always the sun by Rose de Sharon (K+, 12,377 w. || Song Fic, Alternate Post-TGG, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection / Reflection, Injury Recovery, Obsessive / Protective Sherlock, Nightmares, John’s Past, Bed Sharing / Cuddles) – Sherlock ponders about how much his life has changed since John has become his flatmate.

The Detective and the Pin-Up by XistentialAngst (T, 15,683 w. || Sexy John, Romance, Fluff, Humour, First Kiss / Time) – Sally Donovan discovers an old secret John Watson considered long buried - a ten-year old "Men of the Armed Forces" calendar, which has John as a very enticing pin-up for August. The image of John might just change the way everyone sees the unassuming sidekick, even Sherlock Holmes. Rated NC-17 for eventual smut, but the story reasonable concludes before that chapter if you prefer fluff and humor.

Hope for Heroes by Richefic (K+, 16,887 w. || Post-TGG Fic, Introspection / Flashbacks, Friendship/Epic Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Sherlock Admires John, BAMF John, John Deduces, Fancy Party, John’s Self Esteem, Domestics) – In the final moments of "The Great Game" Holmes hopes he will have the chance to tell his flatmate that he was wrong. Heroes do exist after all and the one in front of him is called Dr John Watson.

Trust Me, Trust Nobody by BlueMoonOnTheRise (T, 27,751 w. || Kidnapping, Friendship / No Slash, Adventure, Trust Issues) – Whatever he told Mycroft, John trusted Sherlock almost instantly. When a new case shows up - smattered with the usual thrill of danger, death and cool logic - such trust ends up pushed to its very limits...

[docholligay]

The Mind of an Eagle, The Heart of a Dove: Part 2 (of 2)

Hello friends! Once again, thanks to the wonderful @katrani for allowing me to write this fic! I hope you enjoy, if you are looking for soft gay birds, I promise they are at the end. 2,000 words. Part one is here. 

Mercy did not feel herself bent to anger. She felt it, as did all people, but it did not rule her as it did some, and she was quick to convert it into action, to make love out of pain and irritation. Anger had driven her to to cities destroyed in the Omnic crisis, to take her surgical training and her merits to dig children out of the rubble, to do something better than beg for money from millionaires at balls and events, as many of her contemporaries had done. It was another’s anger that had put the money in her hand anyhow, and it was anger that had allowed Mercy to ignore where it might have come from.

Anger had led to healing, had led to good, and Mercy had always been careful to ensure that anger only did that.

But we are imperfect creatures, even at our best, and Mercy burned with a selfish anger now, one that she could not convert into any action but sleeping with her back turned to Pharah. Not sleeping. Burning. Pharah did not press her, but Mercy could feel the weight of her confusion, how a woman so smart and so collected did not possibly know how why her wife was ignoring her, sniping at her.

And yet, Mercy’s heart was hard, and could not be moved, and she said nothing when Pharah reached out and touched her shoulder in the night.

Her coffee station had been arranged, when she came down that morning, coffee already brewed on the timer Mercy always forgot to set, her favorite travel mug washed clean and put next to the coffeemaker. There was a pastry wrapped neatly in waxed paper, that Pharah must have got on her run that morning.

Mercy felt a brief pang, and pushed it aside. She poured the coffee into her mug and clicked the lid on quickly, hoping she would not see Pharah even as she heard her come down the stairs from her shower. She grabbed the pastry and shoved it into her bag, hair falling out of her bun as if protesting.

She walked out of the kitchen and toward the door, and heard only a brief “Ange--” as she slammed the door behind her, walking down the street quickly, hoping Pharah would not be of a mind to follow her.

Mercy did not understand how people kept their hearts hard. Hers had always tended to softness, and even in her rage her mind still turned to the gentle thoughtfulness of her coffee and her pastry, how Pharah fussed over the way she missed meals and didn’t sleep. How Pharah loved her and cared for her.

But if she loved Mercy, and cared for her, she would not have done what she did. She would have been the smarter, more collected, reasonable woman she was. Pharah’s steadiness was not a negative, not to Mercy. She had enough of unsteadiness in her life, and Pharah was her safe harbor, her shelter, after so much.

And she had been so careless.

The park near their apartment called to her, a place so close to home but holding within it the hope that she could disappear into the lush green, and she wandered into it. Even as she sat on the bench, the memory of it all ran through her mind.

The cluster of omnics. The sounds of the shooting. Tracer, blinking off to the right, following after something and breaking formation. The realization, as she heard the thundering of the landing, that what she was following after was Pharah, in the middle of the omnic crowd. It was so stupid, so daring, the kind of thing that Mercy had heard her teased about from old Army buddies but, it seemed, she had quite grown out of.

They had surrounded her. The seconds between when Pharah landed, the glint from the shots illuminating the face Mercy so loved, and where Tracer’s first pulse shot hit one of the omnics in the back, seemed an entire lifetime.

A lifetime she had spent alone, people flitting in and out of it.

Where could she go? She picked at the edges of the pastry Pharah had brought her, light and flaky and filled with sweet cream. She knew which bakery it was, just down the road from their house, the one Mercy called dangerous, the one they often swept into on their mornings together.

Her finger broke through the crisp flakiness of the pastry, and the soft cream began to leak out. Mercy understood.

Her heart had been hard because it was tender, because the woman who held her heart as tenderly as a pastry box nestled that pastry had been in danger, had put herself in danger, and Mercy could defend herself with nothing but that useless anger, the anger that did not build or heal but only shut out and destroyed.

She sighed as she raised the sweetness of the pastry to her lips. This was not the sort of person she wanted to be. Mercy was not bent to anger, and if this anger could not serve her, then it had to go, it had to be allowed to be hurt and fear and all those much harder emotions.

Where could she go? She asked herself again, knowing that the answer was the thing she had searched for since she was thirteen, that Pharah had finally delivered into her hands.

Home.

__________

Mercy sat on the couch, waiting. Waiting and rubbing her hands together, wondering how best to apologize, wondering how best to explain her fear and her love, and how they could not be separated, however she tried. How she understood that Pharah was a soldier, with a soldier’s duties and a soldier’s calling, but Mercy was not a soldier, no matter how many battlefields she had stood upon.

It had only been a few hours since Mercy herself had left the house. Pharah was, Mercy was sure, at the Overwatch office. There would need to be a release written about the encounter, there would be paperwork that needed to be filed, and she would never allow Tracer to handle all of it. At least not since she’d found a month’s worth of reports shoved into the file cabinet with a date, not in alphabetical order, or any sort of order Pharah could divine.

And so there was no reason for Mercy to be waiting on the living room couch like some sort of Swiss spaniel. She could do a load of laundry. She could walk just down the street to the market and do some of the shopping. She could badly prepare a meal for Pharah, for when she came home from a long day at work.

But she did none of those things. She simply sat on the couch, looking to the door, trying to feign some sort of interest in her book, this poor book that had the same paragraph read over and over as Mercy had struggled to make anything of her emotions over the past day.

It should have been hours. Pharah had so much to do, and the office was a twenty minute walk from their home, and so there was no reason to imagine that Pharah would come through the door until the sun began to hang low.

And yet, the lock turned in the door.

Mercy felt her heart leap into her throat, the anger, the fear, but most of all the love, as Pharah walked in the door. Pharah hung up her keys, as she did every night, and her jacket by the door. She slipped off her shoes, tucked them neatly into the shelf she’d built, and put on her slippers. Mercy watched as Pharah straightened Mercy’s shoes on the shelf next to hers, and, with a moment of realization, looked back to the living room, where Mercy sat.

“Angela.”

The three syllables of her name were like a song in Pharah’s mouth.

“Fareeha,” she sang back the three syllables that continued the song of their love, “I was not meaning to...I do not hate you.” She pulled the afghan from the back of the couch into her lap, though the day was not particularly cold, and looked down into the whirls and dots of their rug. “It was...I am needing you to understand...I…”

Pharah walked with her clipped and confident stride into the living room, and knelt in front of her, gently holding Mercy’s chin so her eyes would meet Pharah’s.

Her wife was known for being direct, and precise, and commanding, but when Mercy looked in her eyes, she saw all the softness and the gentleness of someone who had simply decided to be the hawk to save every dove she encountered.

“I know. Tracer crashed when she was thirteen.” Pharah said it as if it were a simple fact that laid out the entirety of the issue between them, and nodded.

Mercy’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at Pharah. “I think I am not understanding.”

Pharah nodded, and sighed. “I--”

“Come,” Mercy pulled her hand, “up here.”

Pharah settled herself into the couch, but clasped both of Mercy’s hands in hers. “I mean to say, you were angry, because you love me. I made you fear that you would lose me.”

Mercy nodded quietly, breathlessly, wanting to tell her about every nightmare she had where she could not save a member of the team, and how much worse the dreams were when it was Pharah. How it would follow her, as sure as her shadow, the entire day.

But she found herself unable to speak, and so simply nodded.

Pharah swallowed and sighed, rolling back her shoulders, readying to accept her own rebuke. “I was careless. I was showboating. The situation did not require that maneuver. I simply assumed I would not fail. You have every right to be angry with me.”

“Your life does not only belong to you.” Mercy had not meant to say it, but as soon as it left her mouth, she knew it was what she had been wanting to say all along. “You are so much to me, Fareeha.”

Pharah kissed her cheek. “I apologize, my Angela.”

“No,” Mercy shook her head, “You have to hear this. I do not want to be saying this, but you have to hear.” She gathered her strength. “Every time you put on the suit, I am afraid. Every time we go into battle, I am afraid. Being afraid, is worth what you are doing for the world. I will fight for this world, and I will be afraid. But you should know, that I am afraid.”

Pharah looked at her for a moment, and touched at Mercy’s ring on her hand, twisting it back and forth a moment. “I should be more responsible, with things I treasure. I was not careful with your feelings. I was not careful with myself.”

“I love you.”

Pharah chuckled.

“That is what you think of my love?” Mercy slapped her on the shoulder. “Fareeha--”

“No, no,” she held up her hand, “I am laughing because what I am going to say is so...cheesy. Tracer would laugh at me. But I feel it.” She drew her forehead to Mercy’s. “You are my home. I will protect my home, and sometimes to protect something is to maintain it, and to keep it safe, and not always to go on the offensive. I cannot protect you if I am not there. It is good to remind me of this.”

They laid back together against the soft, yielding cushions of the couch, the one Mercy had liked so much when they’d found it, the first piece of furniture they’d bought for this, the home they had bought together.

Pharah kissed her hand. “It is Tracer’s job to be stupid, and not mine.”

Mercy laughed. “I’m telling her you said that.”

“Good, then she will tell you an overlong story about her personal history and not me. You can call me when she finishes.”

They laughed together, intertwined in that sweet, warm apartment in a middling part of London, on a grey and cloudy day, while the world turned and trembled for all the changes, and they were home.

[themadlostgirl]

Not Dead Yet (Part 76)

*Teenagers scare the living shit out of me! (have i used this line yet on this fic?)*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warning: language

After learning that I was from Neverland I went back and did some research at the library. Since there wasn’t any real mention of Neverland in Henry’s book I needed to resort to the classics. My first discovery was more of a realization that made my eye twitch. The author of Peter Pan was a man named J. M. Barrie. Marigold Barrie. I think I want to punch someone.

For all my reading it didn’t seem to lead anywhere. It was all the same story. Neverland was the place where kids never grow old and can fly and fight pirates and party with indians. It seemed so innocent compared to what Neal described.

I don’t know why but reading only made me angry. With every mention of Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, or Lost Boys, every time I looked at an illustration of Neverland, I wanted to claw at my skull. I could feel something in the back of my mind. A tickle. A nagging that all the answers to what I used to be was right there on the brink of consciousness.

I know I said I was content being Marigold but ever since Neal told me I was from Neverland I had been having weird dreams. They slipped away too quickly to mean anything but I knew they had to be about Neverland. My old life. The only thing I could ever remember was a pair of green eyes and the smell of wind mixed with something earthy.

It frustrated me not knowing who those eyes belonged to. Why that smell was so familiar and comforting. Why I felt like crying when I woke up and the dream slipped away.

Henry was hanging out with me for the day while everyone was off doing detective work. Apparently Regina was missing and everyone was banding together to find her. Even if Regina is the Evil Queen I didn’t like the thought of her being hurt. She’s a good person, even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way.

We were hanging out at the park. I was about to suggest we go back to Granny’s to get something to eat when the Charmings showed up looking somber. Emma pulled Henry away to talk. Something had gone wrong.

“Henry? Emma?” I got closer, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach, “What’s happened?”

“My--my dad--” Henry hiccuped. Tears were streaming down his face.

“Shh,” I hugged him, “Take it slow. Deep breaths.”

I looked over at Emma. She seemed to read the question in my eyes.

“Neal’s dead.”

“Oh god…” I gasped. I looked back at Henry and hugged him even tighter. “I am so sorry.”

The others went back to their apartment and I decided to take a walk and clear my head. Neal was a good man. He didn’t deserve this.

I ended up down near the docks when a tremor shook the ground. “What the heck was that?” I muttered to myself. Please let there not be another giant running around.

I sat down on the edge of the pier and watched the water lap against the wooden beams. Another tremor went off even worse than before. I didn’t move. Later still there was another that almost pitched me into the water. Still I remained.

The chaos didn’t frighten me. Not as much as it should have. It was just another town crisis. It would pass like all the rest.

“Love?”

I turned at the voice. A man clad in leather with a hook for a hand stood behind me. “Let me guess, Captain Hook?”

“You know it is.” he swaggered over to me, “What are you doing out here, Y/N?”

“Oh Y/N...you’re referring to the other me. The one they say I forgot.” I stared back at the horizon. “Should have guessed that if I lived in Neverland I would have come across the captain of the Jolly Roger at some point.”

“Forgot? What in the bloody hell are you talking about?”

I groaned internally at having to explain this once again. “I crossed the town line and forgot who I was before the curse that created this land took hold.”

“Are you joking?”

“Nope. All I know is what Neal and the others told me. My real name is Y/N and I was from Neverland. Everything else is a mystery.”

“You really don’t remember…”

“Not at all. What are you doing in Storybrooke? Sightseeing? Looking for buried treasure?”

“I was actually just leaving,” he gestured to the ship I had been sitting next to all this time. “I don’t suppose you would want to come along.”

“Why would I go with you?”

“Because I can bring you home.”

“I am home.”

“Your real home.” he pulled something from his pocket. It looked like strangely shaped jewel. “And this can get us there.”

“My real home...you mean Neverland?”

“Yes. As you told me before you lost your memories, if I were to return Peter Pan’s missing Lost Girl I would be rewarded handsomely. I bring you home, you get reunited with your crazy family, and I can get whatever I want in exchange.”

I looked between the town and the ship. That tickle was back. A memory right out of reach.

“If I go with you, do you think it’ll help me remember?”

“Only one way to find out,” he held out a hand for me, “Shall we?”

“Okay.” I grabbed his hand and next thing I know he’s practically pushing me onto the ship. I watched as he worked effortlessly to bring the ship into the open water.

“So, Captain,” I stood next to him by the wheel, “How are we going to get to Neverland? Fly? Follow the second star to the right?”

“Not necessary,” he flashed the jewel again. Looking at it closer it looked like a sparkly bean. “With this it will open up a portal and take us there directly. No flying necessary.”

“That works too I guess.” I looked over the side of the ship as Storybrooke grew smaller. I was gonna miss everyone but I needed answers. I needed that nagging in the back of my mind to stop. This may be my only chance.

“Um, do you mind if I look around? I promise I won’t mess with anything.” I asked.

He didn’t answer. “Captain?”

“Hang on to something, love,” he turned the wheel sharply. Soon we were sailing back towards Storybrooke.

“What’s going on? Why are we going back?”

“I’m doing the right thing.” he groaned, “Nasty business, the right thing.”

We docked the ship. Emma and the others ran to meet us. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Helping.” Hook answered.

“Well, you’re too late.”

“Am I?”

“I thought you didn’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“Maybe I just needed reminding that I could.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” I chimed in, “What’s going on?”

“Marigold? What are you doing with Hook?” Emma furrowed her brow at me.

“Stuff…” I felt bad admitting that I was leaving.

They didn’t pay me more mind as they went back to interrogating Hook.

“We need to get Henry.” Emma said. “Greg and Tamara took him through a portal.”

“Well I offer my ship and my services to follow them.” Hook looked back at me, “Sorry Y/N, looks like I won’t be taking you home.”

“Probably for the best. This seems like divine intervention telling me to stay the heck away from Neverland. If you’re going to rescue Henry though, I’d like to help. I love that kid and I owe him a lot. I’m not much help but I want to do what I can. Do we know where Greg and Tamara took Henry?”

“Leave that to me.” Mr. Gold stepped forward, “I can get us where we need to go.”

Hook looked less than pleased to have Mr. Gold along but conceded all the same. The others boarded the boat. Emma came up to me and asked if I was sure about coming along. It could be really dangerous.

“I want to help Henry. I don’t care how dangerous it is.” For the first time in a long time I felt like I had a purpose. I was going to bring Henry back home.

Mr. Gold conjured a white globe and squeezed a drop of his blood onto it. The blood grew and swirled until some land formed on the pristine surface.

“Where is that? Where have they taken Henry?” Regina asked.

“Neverland.” Hook turned to me, “Looks like you’re going home after all.”

“This could work to our advantage actually.” Mr. Gold walked up to me. “We already have an inside source.”

“I don’t remember anything though. What do expect me to tell you?”

“You don’t need to tell us anything. You just need to look the part.” he waved his hand and I was no longer in my regular clothes but something darker. Strapped to my hip was a dagger and I was now holding something that looked to be a cross between a walking stick and baseball bat.

“What is this?”

“This is the real you, Marigold.” Mr. Gold grinned, “Or should I say, Y/N.”

“I’d hate to say it but the crocodile has a point. Y/N was Pan’s most trusted friend. If we are going to Neverland then she can walk among them without suspicion.”

“She showed up with us. I think that’ll be a little suspicious.” Emma reminded him.

“Not for her.” Hook wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “The lass was always a sneaky one. It could be very believable that she found out where we were heading and stowed away on the ship without us noticing.”

“And you think they’ll buy that? I get that this Y/N character was some violent Lost Girl but giving me weapons and telling me to call myself Y/N isn’t going to change anything. They’ll know something’s up.”

“Oh no, they’ll be too happy to have their precious Lost Girl back that they won’t notice a thing. Best to forget the name Marigold. Until we’ve rescued the lad, you’re Y/N.” Hook gave me a push toward the lower deck, “Secure yourself below. We’ll worry about sailing the ship.”

“But I want to--”

“If we get there and something or someone sees you with us then the plan is shot to hell. You need to keep out of sight until we get onto the island. Understood.”

“Aye aye captain” I went below without arguing. I could feel the ship start to move and then tip. My stomach swooped as we fell through the portal.

When things evened out I left my spot below deck and poked my head up to where everyone else was. “Can I come up now?” The smell of the ocean calmed my nerves.

“No, love,” Hook said, “Stay below deck.”

“Who is possibly going to see me this far out from the island?”

“Pan’s shadow for one. Now stay down until we tell you to come up.” he growled.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and went back to the spot I had been nestled in before. While they worked up above I studied the things Mr. Gold had given me before we left. A club covered with dark stains and a simple dagger. Both felt natural in my hands.

I ran my thumb over the bottom of the dagger where a crudely carved R was marked. Was this Mr. Gold’s old dagger? R. Rumplestiltskin. It might be.

Small...I don’t want to call them memories. More like feelings. A familiar sense. Holding the club and the dagger I felt in control. I felt like nothing could threaten me.

While waiting Hook came down to where I was sitting. “Seeing as how you’re going to be acting as Y/N I figured it’d be prudent to tell you something about yourself and who you’ll be dealing with.”

“What do I need to know exactly?”

“Something I doubt dear old Neal felt comfortable telling you.” Hook looked like he was ready to jump out of the porthole, “Now I’m telling you this so when you meet Pan and the Lost Boys it doesn’t come as a shock.”

“What? You don’t sound like you’re very comfortable telling me this either.” This didn’t sound good.

“Pan and you were not just friends like you were told. The relationship between you two, as far as I knew, was far more...intimate.”

“Wait…” the realization started to dawn on me, “Are you trying to tell me that I was Peter Pan’s girlfriend?”

“Aye.”

“Oh no. So I’m gonna have to pretend to--to--”

“Unfortunately. If you don’t then I can tell you that may be the red flag that alerts the others that something is wrong.”

“Maybe this is a bit over my head.” I curled into myself.

“Don’t worry. You just need to keep up the act long enough to rescue Henry. After that you never have to look at the hellspawn ever again.”

I nodded. He gave my shoulder a pat. “You’ll be fine. He won’t hurt you. No matter what you do.”

The ship lurched and I fell to the ground. “What was that?”

“Mermaids.” Hook cursed under his breath, “Stay down here! Do not come up no matter what happens.”

“But--”

“Stay down!” he shouted before running back above deck.

I tethered myself as the ship continued to rock violently in the waves. If the sea was this dangerous I was scared to know what the actual island was like.

~~~

Greg, Tamara and Henry landed less than gracefully in the thick of the jungles of Neverland. Everything had gone according to plan. That was except for not being able to nab Marigold on there way here. The girl had disappeared and there was no time to go looking for her.

Hopefully it didn’t matter. Henry was the big target. Still, having Marigold would have been a big boost to the Home Office. Tamara was trying to get a signal on the communicator but the light wouldn’t even turn on. She handed it to Greg in hopes that he could get it to work.

When he pulled the back to check the batteries though sand fell out. What the hell was going on? Where were the batteries?

There was no time to worry about some dumb trick. They needed to find the Home Office.

Just as they were getting a signal fire lit people started to emerge from the jungle surrounding them. No. Not people. Boys. Teenage boys everywhere.

“Who are you?” Greg kept his nerve. These were just kids. They couldn’t hurt them.

“We’re the Home Office,” The tallest one said with a sadistic grin. “Welcome to Neverland.”

“The Home Office is a bunch of teenagers?” Tamara’s sense of unease only grew.

“They’re not teenagers.” Henry sighed, “They’re the Lost Boys.”

“Look at that.” The tall boy smirked at Henry.

“Why do the Lost Boys want to destroy magic?”

“Who said we wanna destroy magic?” the leader asked.

“That was our mission.” Greg was losing patience.

“So you were told. You were also told to look for a girl. Where is she? You had said you found her.” The leader boy drawled.

“We did find her. But we couldn’t grab her before we left.”

“Shame. At least now we know where to find her.” the boy looked back at Henry, “Now the boy. Hand him over.”

“Not until you tell us the plan--” Tamara said, “For magic, for getting home.”

“You’re not getting home.” The boys around them started to snicker.

“Then you’re not getting the boy.” Greg balled his fists. He had never punched a teenager but he’d make an exception for these creeps.

“Of course we are.” the way the boy said it unnerved Greg. Then there came the roaring sound. The last thing he saw was a mass of black with white glowing eyes swooping down on him.

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