#but hey they figured i should be fine given my background so let's focus on that 🥹

[elialys]

Just received an email from my new school telling me that they reviewed my profile, and subsequently decided that given my teaching degree and my work experience, I can skip a whole year of their program and start directly at year 2 (out of 3)

[missmorosis]

sick manager :)

-> feat. bokuto, oikawa, and tsukishima

part 2 with sugawara and kuroo here!

personally i loved writing these, so lmk if you want a part 2 with other characters 👀

TW: PASSING OUT :))

To sum up how you felt in one word, you were exhausted. You were physically overworked; pushed to your limit with tons of schoolwork, stress, extracurriculars, and on top of that, you were your school's volleyball team manager. You were merely a first year, but you did your job well, and the entire team loved you.

You had tried to power through the classes, running with just two hours of sleep. Work was starting to pile up, so you had no time for sleep.

You felt yourself falling asleep during lectures, curling up on the grass for quick naps during lunch, and throughout the day, you had the worst headache.

With luck, you managed to make it through, but you still had hours of volleyball ahead of you. You blinked hard, trying to get rid of the sleepiness clouding your head. Your head pounded, and nothing was really registering in your brain.

There was no denying it, you were sick.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, but it was still annoying. You didn't want to miss the day's volleyball practice, because you had an upcoming game, so you decided to just push through and deal with it. 

Ignoring how bad your head hurt, you slung your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the classroom.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto, someone you recognized as the captain of the team you were the manager for, spotted you from a distance and was already bouncing, beaming as he waved. You smiled back with a small wave. He didn't mind that you didn't match his enthusiasm; he was used to it, so he didn’t find anything suspicious about it.

The two of you walked down to the gym, Bokuto talking animatedly the whole way there in the background. You didn't mind though, it was nice to just listen. However, every word he chirped bore into your brain, seeming to echo.

You didn’t want to be rude, but you couldn’t help but try to drown out his voice by focusing on your surroundings.

A green bush. A tall tree. A group of students.

“Y/N?” Bokuto waved his hand in front of your face, and you looked up at the mention of your name.

“Hm? Sorry, sorry, I’m just... oh, we’re here!” you said, quickly changing the subject. You didn’t want him to worry, and it was no big deal anyways... You could finally see the gym, and you let out a sigh of relief. It felt like the short walk was actually several miles long. 

You finally made it- 

Shoot.

A sudden dizzy spell overtook you. Shutting your eyes tight, you stumbled on your own feet, your legs giving out beneath you. No, no, no....

"Y/N!" Bokuto yelped as he caught you. He pulled you close to him, and whimpering, you leaned on his chest, trying to stay conscious.

“Sorry...” you breathed softly, just trying to focus on the way Bokuto’s chest went up, and down.

Up... and down. You shut your eyes tighter as a wave of your headache hit. Bokuto’s arms around you were definitely helping you stay standing, and you were thankful. Up... and down.

Then you slumped into his arms.

...

The second your eyes opened again, you were knocked back with a hug. You grunted at the unexpected impact, but smiled when you realized it was Bokuto.

"Y/N! You're awake!" Bokuto yelled, his voice watery with relief. "I thought you died," he sobbed, and you hugged him tight.

"I'm fine, I promise," you said with a laugh. "Just... thirsty." Bokuto leaped to get you a glass of water as fast as he could.

While he was gone, you looked around to see that you were in the nurse's office. You could just imagine Bokuto running with you unconscious in his arms, and you smiled at the thought.

Bokuto came back with the promised water, and he lay a hand on you to check up on your temperature.

"You're really burning up... why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he asked, pouting.

"I didn't want you to worry... I thought I would be fine, and that I would make it through practice." He shook his head.

"I want to know, okay?" You nodded with a smile.

"How long was I unconscious?" He thought for a second before responding.

"Only for a couple seconds, but you were kinda drowsy so we made you rest. It's been a couple hours now." You immediately got up.

"Practice isn't over yet?" you asked, still hopeful. Maybe you could at least stay for an hour? It was better than noth-

"Y/N..." he sad warningly, and you knew going wasn't an option.

"Fine..."

"Good," he responded, satisfied with your answer.

Walking out of the classroom, you met eyes with Oikawa Tooru, who immediately lit up at the sight of you. His smile immediately turned into a frown, immediately noticing something was different about you, given how perceptive he was.

"What's wrong?" he questioned slowly, and you shook your head.

"Nothing's wrong, Tooru... I'm just tired," you said, but he looked at you suspiciously.

“You should take a break,” he reminded you gently, and you shook your head, no matter how tempted you were.

“I really can’t, I’ve got… a lot to do. But I’m fine, I swear,” you assured him, gesturing towards the gym, despite the sick feeling in your body. You swallowed, trying to swallow the dizziness. “Let’s go!” You tried for a smile, and Oikawa responded with a hesitant one, finally deciding to let it go. 

Starting to walk towards the gym with the volleyball player following close behind, you shook your head, trying to shake out the growing light-headed feeling that you dreaded. It wouldn’t go away.

Shutting your eyes as tight as you could, you didn’t even notice that you stopped walking until someone tapped your shoulder. 

“Hm?” You peeked your eyes open slightly to notice Oikawa standing next to you. 

“Y/N-chan?” His face was written all over with concern.

“Sorry, I just…” You laughed sheepishly, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was beginning to be way too much. “I.. just…” you tried to say, but you were unable to finish as you swayed to one side, tripping over your own feet trying to stay standing. You heard Oikawa's yelp as he rushed to catch you, and you blinked slowly before passing out completely.

...

As soon as you woke up, you found yourself in your own bedroom. When you got up, wondering how you got there, you were met with Oikawa's frown.

"When was the last time you had at least seven hours of sleep?" he asked, disapproval in his eyes as he pushed you back into bed. You gave a shy smile.

"Maybe... two weeks ago?" Oikawa gasped dramatically before tutting in distaste.

"You need to sleep, or else your health will plummet," he said, shaking his head. Of course, at that moment, your headache had to come back. You winced and shut your eyes, burying your face into your hands. "What's wrong?" You shook your head with a sigh.

"My head's killing me," you admitted. "It's been like this all day."

"Wha- Y/N," he scolded, leaving the room. Where was he going? Ah. He came back with some medicine and a thermometer.

"Thanks." You swallowed the medicine, and Oikawa immediately forced the thermometer into your mouth.

"103.2?! Y/N, you'll be here for a good three days. I'm not ever letting you leave your bed until you get better, and I won't leave either." You laughed at his motherly antics.

"But what about pract-" you started, but Oikawa shushed you.

"Think of it as a much needed break." You stared at him.

"Did you at least go today?"

"No, of course not! You were freaking unconscious, I can't go and hit some good serves if I know that my precious Y/N could possibly be in pain," he said with a pout.

"Aw, Tooru..." You kissed his cheek. "You're too swee-" He pushed you back into your pillows, pulling the covers up before you could finish.

"Now rest up, Y/N-chan."

You glanced at your phone; you still had an hour until volleyball practice...

A little nap wouldn't hurt, right?

You found a nice, private corner, and huddled up. Using your backpack as a pillow, you fell asleep almost instantly.

Some time later, Tsukishima was walking by, on his way to practice. His eyes spotted you asleep in the corner, and he smirked.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, laughing to himself softly. "Hey, get up, Y/N." He flicked his finger on your forehead, and laughed when you began to stir awake.

"Mm?" Your voice was raspy from both sickness and sleepiness, and you blinked your eyes, trying to adjust. You shielded your face from the light with your hand, and you finally made out Tsukki's tall figure kneeling in front of you. "Oh, hi Tsukki..." He held out his hand with a smug smile, offering to help you up.

You groaned when you realized that the nap didn't make your headache go away. Getting up too fast, you swayed for a good two seconds; Tsukki's hands were on your shoulders, trying to steady you.

"Ten bucks you don't make it through practice without passing out," he joked, but you had a feeling he was going to be ten dollars richer soon enough. You nodded sleepily, but quickly froze.

"Wait- am I late for practice?" You frantically dug your phone out, sighing in relief when you learned that you still had ten minutes to spare.

"What, you think I would be late?" Tsukishima said, jokingly. "But anyways, I'm not letting you go to practice today. Clearly you need rest... and..." His hand rested on your forehead, and he nodded. "Like I thought, you have a fever." You swatted his hand away.

"Today's practice is important, I can't miss it. I'll be fine, Tsukki, since when do you worry about me?" You turned around, heading towards the gym, when your head hurt just a bit too much. You winced, and faster than your brain could process what was happening, you were already falling to the ground and everything went dark.

...

"Oh, you're awake." You opened your eyes and saw Tsukishima waiting for you. You were in the nurse's office from the looks of it, and Tsukishima got up with some water and medicine.

"Here, take this." You nodded and followed his command.

"Thanks," you said, rubbing your head.

"Hm. You know how you asked when I started to worry about you?" he asked, sticking a thermometer into your mouth.

"Hm? Oh... yeah." You recalled how you had said something like that right before you passed out. You took the thermometer out and glanced at the temperature.

103.2. You hid the thermometer behind your back, knowing Tsukki would not be happy with your temperature.

"The answer was always; I always care about you, even if I don't seem like it."

"Wow, Tsukki..." It surprised you; you never thought you would hear anything nice coming out of Tsukishima's mouth.

"Also, you act like a five year old sometimes, people can't help but worry about you," he added. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile. "Now hand over the thermometer. I didn't forget." Sighing, you reluctantly gave it to him.

"Welp, will you at least cuddle with me until I get better?" you asked with pleading eyes.

"Come on, Y/N. You're contagious..." You pouted, and he sighed. "Fine."

BUT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDDD!! THANKS FOR READING BABE

this is 100% not edited or proofread IM SORRY- IT MAY NOT EVEN MAKE ANY SENSE HAHSJFJRI

ANY THOUGHTS?? IM DYING TO KNOW OMG

send an ask to be added to my haikyuu taglist 👀

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

[shyvioletcat]

I read your Christmas list of prompts

And I feel like these 3, 14, 38, 62 SCREAM aelin and Rowan (mainly aelin to Rowan) lol

This one is late, I know. But here it is! Another fic for my Rowaelin Holiday Celebration. Set in my teacher au, which includes Camp Shenanigans. Please enjoy. Oh and i just went with 1 out of the 4. It’s the card.

~~~~~

Aelin sighed in frustration. She was great at giving presents, fantastic even. She always knew what to get everyone once Yulemas rolled around. But this year she had lucked out, and it was really bruising her ego.

She prided herself on the annual Secret Santa at work, every year the recipient of her gift gushed about how perfect it was. But this year she had no idea what to get, and that was because she had managed to pull stick-up-his-ass Rowan Whitethorn from the moth eaten Santa hat Lysandra had held in front of her. Her best friend and most likely future cousin-in-law had been incharge of the whole thing but had refused to let Aelin swapped when she asked. That’s the name of the game she’d said and sauntered off.

So now Aelin had dragged Aedion shopping with her, just so she could get some sort of help. Aedion had agreed because he’d managed to pull out a dud himself.

“What do you get Manon Blackbeak?” Aedion mused and he browsed a table of holiday inspired knickknacks.

“Bottle the blood of her enemies,” Aelin replied. “I think she’d drink it straight.”

“She probably would,” Aedion agreed and he left the knickknack table.

Manon worked in the science faculty and was honestly one of the most terrifying people Aelin had ever met. So naturally, after a tense getting to know you period, they'd mellowed out into being respectful collegues and eventually some semblance of friends.

“We’ve got a betting pool going on how soon into the end of year party her and Dorian end up in some closet making out,” Aelin dropped casually. “Again.”

“Does Dorian know?” Aedion asked as they walked side by side to go browse elsewhere.

“Dorian is in on it,” Aelin said. “He thinks a half hour tops.”

“Manon would never let him have it that easy,” Aedion added.

“That’s what I told him,” Aelin said. “And then I also told Manon and she said he’s dreaming.”

Aedion scoffed. “Did you just rig it for yourself?”

“Of course not, I never mentioned the bet to her at all,” Aelin replied innocently.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Aelin tried not to smile. “Fine I did, I promised to split the money with her.”

“I knew it.”

The cousins had reached a holiday display, decorations, cards, and holiday specific foods all set out.

“Hey,” Aedion said with a grin. “You could give him this.” He held up a card.

Aelin looked over and saw what the card had on it.

Will you be my ho ho ho?

“What, and end up in the middle of a sexual harassment case? No thank you.” Then Aelin added, “Why would I even get that for him anyway? I hate him.”

“Of course you do,” Aedion said like he knew all the secrets of the universe.

“What?” Aelin snapped.

Aedion gave her a grin that made her understand exactly why people tended to get infuriated with her. “Nothing.”

Aelin picked up a candy cane and pointed it at him threateningly. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

The grin stayed, Aelin wanted to throw something at him.

“Okay, let’s focus here. You’re his friend of sorts. What should I get?” Aelin said, wanting to just get out of the bustling shops by now.

“I dunno, he’s still pretty private even though it’s been six months,” Aedion said.

Aelin sighed heavily. “I’m going to have to do it. I’m going to have to do the mug and pen.” Even just saying it left a bad taste in her mouth. “I don’t know what else to do and you’re absolutely no help.”

She didn’t want to resort to the cliche teacher gift but really she had no other choice. She had to get something. Dragging her feet Aelin walked to the kitchen section to look for the least offensive mug she could find, then she would make her way to stationary and find a nice pen. Why did she have to get Rowan Whitethorn? Her reputation would be ruined.

~~~~

The last day of term rolled around and that evening they had the staff get together in a function room of a local restaurant. They were all standing around snacking, drinking, laughing, holiday songs playing in the background. Aelin held court in the corner with most of her faculty, honestly the loudest group in the room. Although Dorian was off trailing Manon like a lost puppy. The two of them were yet to disappear, Manon holding out to the appointed time. Aelin caught her eye across the room, Manon gave her a wink, Aelin tipped her glass in return.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!”

Fenrys appeared in a very cheap looking Santa suit, foregoing the beard, not wanting to hide his beautiful face apparently. He walked over to the tree and started calling out names, obnoxiously good in his role. Aelin sighed, she was still a little cut up about her more than average present. Maybe she could keep it from getting out, keep her reputation intact. It wasn't likely though, everyone loved the intrigue and gossip of who got who.

“Rowan! Seems that even if you’re a grumpy bastard you still get presents,” Fenrys’ voice boomed in the space.

Rowan made his way to the front, even managing half a good natured smile at the joke as he got his wrapped mug and pen. Aelin had to turn away; she was so annoyed. A few other names were called out then Aelin heard her own. She put her drink down and made her way to Fenrys. He was giving her a winning smile.

“I just want you to know your secret Santa had absolutely no help from anyone,” Fenrys said as he passed her a small package.

Aelin took it back to her little corner, shaking it before she started unwrapping it. What she found inside were her favourite chocolates, her all time favourite chocolates. Chocolate hazelnut truffles. These were one’s you didn't just buy from the grocery store. These were only sold at a little store in the heart of the city.

“Okay, which one of you got me this?” Aelin asked her friends.

No one came forward, adamantly denying it was them, it looked like Aelin would be joining in on the present gossip tonight. It took her a while, but curiously it had been Lorcan to give her the answer she wanted.

“It was Rowan,” he snapped as Aelin had been hounding Connall for information for quite a while. “Now, go away. I’m sick of hearing your voice.”

“Happy Yulemas,” Aelin said far too sweetly. She was too stunned to give him any more of a threat, replaying what Fenrys had said in her head. Rowan hadn’t had any help so how did he know exactly what chocolates to get her? She spotted him over by the drinks table, steeling herself she made her way over to him. Not only had he managed to get her the perfect present, but she had given him such an abysmally awful one she hoped he never found out it was her.

Aelin cleared her throat as she poured herself a drink from the punch bowl. “Thanks,” she said lamely.

“It didn’t take you long,” Rowan said.

“Lorcan gave you up,” Aelin told him and she saw Rowan roll his eyes. “I have to know, how did you find out they were my favourites.”

Rowan gave her a wry smile. “Santa told me,” he said cryptically. “And I don’t mean Fenrys.”

Aelin just looked at him, confused, gears in her head working. Before she could figure it out or ask more questions Rowan was walking away.

“Oh,” Rowan said, turning back to her. “And thanks for the mug.”

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @ladywitchling // @booknerdproblems // @rowaelin-cressworth // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starborn-faerie-queen // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @littleboxofthunder // @empress-ofbloodshed // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak

[kaz11283]

Only One God For Me

(Part 2 of Love Never Wins)

SUMMARY: After blowing up at him afyer weeks of hiding out you challenge Loki to hand to hand. Blowing up might have been the best thing, it could help you let off that frustration you had built up.

Characters: Nat, Clint, Thor, Loki, avengers on the side line.

(Loki x you, clint x you, Thor x you, Nat x you)

ANNOUNCEMENT: I didnt know how much part 1 was going to be but I am forever greatful in this amazing community! Thank you guys SO much! Check out my other stuff too if you like this. As always reblog, ask, comment, and like! After I finish up here I'll be back to writing for Fire and Ice. Thank you again so SO much for everything! 💚💚💚

Loki Master List

~~~~

You and Nat were standing at one end of the training area as Loki walked in. You glanced up from Nat wrapping your hands and noticed he was wearing his normal traing gear. Plain leather black pants with a dark green Henley, his hands already wrapped.

"Focus, your getting distracted." She said yanking on one of the straps.

"Ow. I cant help it Nat, we went from cant keep our hands away from each other to literally fist fighting each other. Ya know this is normally frowned upon is normal society." You streched your fingers out and balled them back up streching out the gloves a little.

"Hunny, even in a perfect world were anything but normal. I mean for god sakes your fighting a literal god. You remember what I taught you. Right?" She asked looking almost terrified for me.

"Yes mother, I havent forgotten. This is gonna be a piece of cake." Inside you were freaking out. You normally was in a very high spot with your bow or normally trying to break into the computers. You wasnt normally in hand to hand combat, but you were smarter than to think you would never need it.

You turned shaking you head and putting the mouth piece in your mouth. Hitting you fist together jumping back and forth getting ready. Loki just stood there smirking. You was gonna smack that smirk off his face.

"Hey sis, Im not saying you cant beat him just be careful. He throws a nasty left hook." Clint said munching on some chips."Thanks, Hawk. Mind explaining why the rest of the team is here?" You mumbled around the mouth piece.

"Thor, definitely Thor." He said walking back to the small group that gathered.

"Sweetheart. Are we gonna fight or are you just gonna stand there chit chatting?" He called across the mat.

"I'm coming." You walked across the mat to the center. Someone hit a bell signaling for the fight to start and he jumped toward you. You dodged his first attemped and circled him slowly. You could read his every move, read where he was going next.

You took a defence stance that Nat had taught you from your training before he lunged again. This time you managed to upper cut him in the side knocking some of the wind from him.

"Oh you little minx. I figured I would take it easy on you but we can play your way also." This time he took a step back centering himself. Looking up you noticed he had a dangerous look in his eye.

"I didnt invite you here to take it easy on me, I invited you because you dont take anything serious. Because if someone like me can beat you in hand to hand then anyone can." You stepped closer to him gauging what move you was going to make next.

He dropped down to the mat attempting to sweep your legs out from under you, he missed one but caught the other causing you to fall. He jumped on top of you pinning your hands above your head. "Now this positions brings back memories." He whispered to you causing your face to turn bring red. You brought your leg up able to wrap it around his waist and slammed him back down to the mat gaining some advantage.

"This one also." He smirked. You raised your fist above you aiming for his face. Whem you brought it down he moved his head causing you to miss. It felt like forever that you were both on the mat neither one gaining aginst the other. A busted lip here a bloody nose there. When the bell rang for a break Nat was in your corner with Clint offering you some water and a rag ti wipe the blood off.

"Sis, I'm try in real hard not to grab an arrow and stabe him with it." Clint said from one side. You could see anger in his eyes.

"Hawk, its fine. Given the circumstance its all good. Its just training in a matter of speaking. Anger is mostly wunning but I got this. I was trained by the best. I'm not even tired." You took another drink of water before going back out to the mat.

"This is fun. I have never seen my brother trying harder to win anything in his life." Thor shouted across the room. "Lady y/n is quite good at sparing. We must fight sometime." Thor laughed.

A few more rounds when and you could feel the weight of the afternoon but you wasjt about to simply throw in the towel just yet. You knew you could get the best of him. You had thrown him back on the mat then he took his feet placing them on your chest shoving you off of him. Before you knew it you were surrounded by multipuls of him.

"Loki we agreed no sedair! This is cheating!" You yelled at them.

"God of Mischief and lies sweetheart. Besides we're in weird predicaments all the time. You said so yourself. Tell you what. You find the real me and I'll forfeit." One of the clones said. You stood up in the middle of them all focusing everything you had on concentrating, ignoring Clint yelling in the background and the rest of the group shouting.

You opened your eyes zeroing in on one closest to you and walked up to him.

"Are you sure your right about this decision?" It mocked.

"Yeah. I think I am." You brought the ball of yoyr fist up crashing it into Loki's nose. The rest of the clones disappered as he fell to his knees in front of you. "You are a complete and utter asshole Loki Odinson. I hope that it messes with you for a while that you got beat by a mortal." You started unwrapping your gloves as you walked away.

Over the next few weeks you avoided every living space in the tower that you knew he would be in. It had truly hurt you that he had cheated during the fight. You still couldnt understand how just months before you couldn't keep your hands off of each other now you were both avoiding each other like the plague.

"Miss y/n. Team has a mission. Tony wants everyone in the confrence room dressed and ready in 15 minutes." JARVIS called pausing your movie. With a roll of your eyes you walked to your bedroom to start getting ready. Pulling out your tight skinny jeans a black tank top and your zip up hoodie you French braided your hair and grabbed your bow case before heading down.

The rest of the team was gathered when you walked in and placed your case on the table opening it up to make sure everything was right. Streching out the strings and making sure the sights were spot on aiming them to the other side of the room where Loki stood.

"It would be more effecitve if you had an arrow." Clint whispered next to you.

"Shut up, I'm just making sure everything is right." You put it back down in the case and started going over your arrows.

"You realize we have a place you can put that when your not using it." Tony said walking around you.

"Right up your ass if you suggest that again." You laughed putting everything back up.

"Love the enthusiasm kid." Tony laughed walking to the front of the table.

"Ok Team, going to be a long few days for us. Just got some Intel about a caravan carrying some explosives across the Scandinavian border. Gonna have to divide into teams for this one. Hawk, Nat, Strange, Rodgers, Bruce, and Thor you'll be starting at the meeting point and working your way toward us. The rest is with me." Tony pulled a map up on the big screen showing where you wwre going.

"Oh come on, why cant I be with the A team?" You asked with a groan.

"Sorry kid, gotta divide it up right. One god for each, one Archer. Only fair. And even if you two hate each other you guys work good together." Tony shrugged.

"Yeah sorry kid." Clint laughed.

"Hey I'm a full three minutes older that you. Probably explains why I'm better. Whatever. I'll go pack my stuff." You huffed standing up.

The next two hours seems to drag by, it was freezing here. You was just ready to get this over with so that you could go back home and relax in a nice warm bath, you pulled your jacket tighter aginst you.

"I've told you many times that you should start wearing the uniform that they gave you. You'll freeze to death one day." Loki said taking off his cloak and putting it around your shoulders.

"Thanks, but I'm still pissed at you." You hugged it closer. "I hate the whole uniform thing. To tight to revealing."

Another few minutes pass before Tony gives everyone the heads up that your about to be over the caravan. Figuring you were warm enough you took the cloak off and handed it back to him. "You may still be pissed at me but I do still care very deeply for you y/n. I was an idiot for everything." He took it and wrapped it around his shoulders. When his fingers grazed yours there was a surge that went through you.

"Give me time. You really hurt me, not just by breaking up with me but by lying to me during training. Good luck out there God of Mischief."

"Tony, your gonna have to get lower i cant get a clear shot on the driver!" You yelled over the wind whipping around your face. About that time a diffrent arrow shot through gettkng the driver in the side causing the vehicle to completly stop.

"Gotta be faster than that sis. One for me." Clint laughed over the com.

"You are my least favorite person right now Hawk." You mumbled. Tony brought the Quinn Jet down so your team could spread out.

"That is truly saying something my dear." Lokis smooth voice said in your ear.

"You gave me your cloak to keep me warm. Gave you a fell points." You pulled back again and shot it through the truck behind the first hitting the driver in the head. "Got one, Hawk, your next."

"Can we cut the chatter. Got alot going on in the sky at the moment." Tony said. Youbcould here something firing above you looking up you could see Tony being followed by a jet firing at him. "Need some back up guys. Twins. Anyone."

"Hawk. I need a Boom Boom stick." You met him in the middle of the road.

"I really wish you wouldnt call them that." He said handing you one. You both pulled your bows back and aimed. "Heads or tails?"

"I like the tails." You let go of the sting and watched as the jet exploded.

"I think she can call them whatever she wants as long as she keeps doing a good job keeping bogies off my ass." Tony yelled over the coms.

"I hate this. I cant see shit down here." You yelled over to Clint. "I gotta get higher." You looked around eyeballing the turnes over truck. You threw the bow across your back and started climbing up the truck. Shots rang around you one grazing your side, before it had started it was like it stopped looking behind you you noticed Loki with his daggers in his hands.

"You need to pay more attention y/n." He scolded you.

"Why pay attention when I have someone keeping an eye out for me." You smiled.

"Oh darling Im doing more than just keeping an eye out." After everything that ass had done to you he was flirting FLIRTING with you.

"Y/N! No. More. Gods." Clint yelled. From here you could see everything going on. Nat fighting two men, you took one out easily from your spot. She shot you a thumbs up. Bruce had hulked out throwing things everywhere, multiple times you had to dodge something flying your way. The fight was almost over when you glanced behind you noticing four men backing Loki aginst a turned over car.

His hands were up as if in surrender. "Loki why arent you using your sedair?" You mumbled pulling the bow back.

"Well darling you could say that I am in on of those weird predicaments. I've exahusted alot of my power down here." His back was aginst the truck now.

"Could let him get beat up." Clint pipped in as you shot one of your last arrows though two of the guys standing there. You watched Loki easily take out the other two.

"Told you Hawk, I'm not like that." You smiled walking over to Loki. "Although you could use a little practice in hand to hand, dont you agree?"

"Only if your the one practicing with me he smailed down at you.

"Ugh! Y/n! No mo-" Clint started before you pulled the com from your ear.

"Only one God for me." You leaned up kissing Loki on the cheek.

~~~~

Tag List:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 3

Well, this took longer than anticipated! Somehow I kept rewriting this cause it wasn’t turning out how I wanted it to, but it’s here! And to compensate for the wait, it’s slightly longer than the other chapters :D

Thank you Nayla and @inloveoknutzy for proof reading and your help, I love you guys 😊

And thanks again @lumosinlove for your amazing characters and universe, quite a few of them make an appearance today!

Wether you celebrate christmas or not, I hope you all had a wonderful day ❤️ Enjoy!

CW: Mention of past hospital stay and mild panic attack. Please look after yourself  ❤️ (If you want to skip that part stop reading at the end when it says “Remus trailed off, his voice dying down.” and start again when it says “He stood up suddenly.”)

Chapter 3 - Halloween

The slap of Remus' feet against the ground was a steady beat in the morning air. The cool breeze fanning his face felt refreshing, fully waking him up as he and Lily made their way between the trees in the park.

Remus had always been used to jogging alone, but since Lily had started going to his clases she was quickly becoming a very good friend, and spending time with her was something he really enjoyed. They liked going out for coffee and talking a lot, and Remus had already learned quite a bit about her: she wasn't really dating Sirius, but a guy named James, who was Sirius' best friend. She lived just a few blocks from his apartment building, worked in a bookshop not too far from there, and was one of the most kind and cool people Remus had met so far. She reminded him a bit of Leo in that aspect.

She was also incredibly stubborn.

"You are coming to the party tonight, right?" 

Remus groaned. He'd hoped Lily would have forgotten about it in the past two weeks, but clearly he'd underestimated Lily Evans' will power when she got something in her mind.

"I told you already Lils, he and I don't get along very well."

Contrary to Lily’s, his relationship with Sirius was only getting worse. They’d run into each other a couple of times, and it was always a very tense affair; Remus ignored him as best he could, and Black had not teased him again but had gone back to being a grumpy jerk. After Lily's insistence, he'd told her why he was against being anywhere near her friend, all the annoying things he did, but he didn't add that he had made a complete fool of himself in front of Black and that there was no way he would willingly show his face into his home.

Lily sighed, "I know, but it's not been a good month for Sirius. I'm sure you guys would get along great if you met under different circumstances."

"Maybe," Remus conceded, although he wasn't so sure about that, "but I have plans with Leo already, and I haven't seen him since he helped me move in."

That was longer than they usually spent apart, but it couldn't be helped. Leo was studying and he lived a bit far away, which made everything more complicated. But he would be arriving in a few hours to stay over for the weekend; they were gonna walk around, grab pizza at Sid's and then they would do a horror movie marathon. And even if Remus enjoyed Lily's company deeply, he'd much rather spend Halloween in the comfort of his own house with his best friend, than in a party full of strangers and with a man that made him feel embarrassed and on edge all at once. Remus wasn't used to having his emotions all over the place like this, not since his last boyfriend. He didn't like being reminded of how he’d felt then.

Raising her hands in surrender, Lily dropped the subject without another word, which surprised but pleased Remus greatly. He didn’t think he could have kept giving her excuses without explaining the whole situation to her.

He should have known better than to think it would be that easy.

That evening, he was coming back home with Leo after stuffing their mouths with the best pizza ever, pineapple of course, still catching up to what he’d missed in the past few weeks.

"How’s your mum, Leo?"

"Oh God, I swear since you left both our mums have gotten worse. They get together all the time, gossiping and baking. It’s like they are our age again. And your mum’s convinced you’re seeing someone," Leo said with a smirk.

"You and I both know that my dog is the only one around here that I’m seeing," Remus rolled his eyes.

They stepped into the entrance hall, saying hi to the concierge at the front desk with a smile. The man smiled back, but he looked tired. More so than usual, and it wasn’t even that late, which struck Remus as weird, but he figured working night shifts must take its toll on someone.

It wasn’t long before they were on the lift going up, but it was only when the doors opened on Remus’ floor that they heard the deep bass notes coming from the end of the corridor.

“What the…” Leo muttered in surprise.

Remus frowned as they walked into the hall, passing by a few people in costumes with drinks in their hands who were chatting excitedly, and a couple making out next to Remus’ door.

“I can’t believe this. What’s the deal with that guy, how did he manage to get the administration on board with this?”

“What the hell is going on?” Leo asked, clearly confused.

“Halloween party,” Remus replied, trying to keep his blood from boiling. He hadn’t thought it would be such a big party, he wasn’t even sure they were allowed to do something like this. He was pretty positive the building’s rules were against it. Maybe Black had bribed someone. “He could have at least warned me that it would be this bad,” Remus said grumpily, eyeing the couple by his door like he was ready to shove them aside.

Leo must have noticed this, ‘cause a second later he patted Remus’ back and fetched the spare keys Remus had given him.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Using his smile, and patience that Remus didn’t have right then, Leo got rid of the lovebirds and was about to put the key in when Remus glanced around and saw Lily leaning against the wall at the end. She looked amazing in her Rosie the Riveter costume that exposed her lean arms and legs, and was talking with one of the guys that Remus had seen wandering around the building. She was making big gestures with her hands when she looked up and locked eyes with Remus.

“Fuck.”

Leo turned around to look at him quizzically just as Lily screamed “Remus!” and started making her way over to them.

The man next to her followed behind. He was wearing a white and gold toga that barely covered his thighs and showed a lot of his broad chest, with golden bands on his forearms and sandals.

Remus heard the sound of keys crashing against the floor, and looked up to see Leo’s slightly wide eyes and open mouth as he stared at the two people getting closer to them. He coughed pointedly and Leo blinked again and bent down to pick up his keys as a flush started creeping up his neck. Oh, how he would tease him for this. 

But that was for later, right now he had to deal with a grinning Lily Evans.

For half a second he considered just going inside and avoiding all of this, but he couldn’t do that to Lily, and it was already way too late to pretend he hadn’t seen her.

“Hey, you’re here! How was your dinner?” 

Remus wondered if she’d been waiting outside just to catch him, but she seemed genuinely happy to see him, and he couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“It was great, thank you. Leo and I were just gonna go chill for a bit, so…” he threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at his flat, but Lily tilted her head up to focus on Leo and her eyes got a knowing look that couldn’t be good.

“Hi, I’m Lily, and this is Logan,” she smiled coyly as she placed a hand on the man’s shoulder who, Remus noticed, was alternating between staring at Leo and down at the floor; but he smiled warmly when Leo gave him a shy wave.

“Salut! Are you guys joining the party?” he said with eager eyes, and it was then that Remus managed to place Black’s accent, as it was so similar to Logan’s. French. He had to fight not to groan.

“Ah, sorry, but well,” Remus said vaguely, “we don’t really have costumes.” It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but it was the first thing he could think of. Leo snapped his eyes to him, a conflicted scowl settling on his face.

As expected, Lily waved a dismissive hand, “costumes are not mandatory. C’mon, I promise you’ll have fun.”

It felt like all three of them were staring at him with pleading eyes now, and Remus had no idea why. Well, he had an idea in Leo’s case, but still. Remus glanced at his best friend and could read his face as if it had subtitles. Please, Remus, just for a bit? Remus raised an eyebrow in response, and Leo turned on the puppy eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan almost choking on his drink.

“Ugh, fine, I guess we could stop by for a bit.”

Clapping her hands happily, Lily guided them over to the front door and opened it for them. Meanwhile, Remus was taking a deep breath, wondering how the fuck he could keep a straight face and not die from embarrassment.

Inside, there were more people going about, a table full of cups and all sorts of bottles where Lily immediately fixed them with drinks, and some music on the background that a few people were dancing to. Overall, it wasn’t as wild as it seemed from the outside.

The main crowd appeared to be gathered around an entertainment center in the living room, where there was a huge TV surrounded by a big and comfy looking couch, and a few too-huge armchairs. There were people sitting on them, on the floor, and perched on the arm and backrests; and among all of them Remus saw everyone he’d ran into in the previous weeks. Logan went straight to sit next to the redhead, who had a controller in his hands that he was tapping furiously, as he was taking part in a fighting game.

Remus didn’t pay much attention to them though, ‘cause he’d spotted Sirius in the room and stopped short at what he saw.

Sirius' costume was simple but effective. He was wearing jeans that seemed barely able to contain his powerful thighs, a white tank top splashed with blood, dog tags hanging around his neck, a cigar between his pink lips and fake blades sprouting from his knuckles. It went without saying, he made a very enticing Wolverine.

But that was not why Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away —at least not the main reason why. Black was sitting right next to the guy in glasses, who was leaning into him, whispering something in his ear as he played the game, with his eyes still on the tv screen and his fingers flying over the controller. Sirius was laughing freely at whatever the guy was saying, head thrown back and eyes crinkled, which was something Remus had not seen before.

And it took his fucking breath away.

Black was always so serious, barely any expression on his face, but now he was shaking his head, looking at the other guy with such unmasked fondness, that Remus felt a spark of curiosity light inside of him.

But then Sirius looked up, frowned, and the spark died.

He watched as Sirius’ eyes travelled down his body and then slowly all the way up, and Remus swore he saw something in his face before his scowl deepened. Suddenly feeling extremely self conscious of his big comfy jumper and fitted jeans, Remus bunched the sleeves to hide his hands, worrying the hem. He started turning around to go somewhere else, already thinking of ways to escape from the party, but Lily put a hand on both his back and Leo’s and guided them exactly to where Sirius was sitting on one of the armrests.

“What’s this, Lily?” the man said in an accusing tone, setting the cigar down on the table in front of him.

Lily just rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a party pooper. Remus lives next door, I just thought it would be good if you two actually got to know each other like two civilized people. And y’know, introduce him to the gang, so he doesn’t freak out every time they invade your home.”

“Wait, how do you know him?” the guy in glasses suddenly looked up.

“Oh, he’s the teacher in my new yoga class.”

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” he pouted, and Remus figured this must be James. He was proven right when Lily smiled at him, going over and sitting in his lap. The game was suddenly forgotten; James didn’t seem to mind that he was now losing very quickly.

“Pots, focus!” someone yelled, but James only had eyes for Lily as she leaned in and kissed him.

“Are you worried?” she teased.

James scoffed. “Of course not. I trust you with my life Lils, but it’s such a weird coincidence.”

“Wait, no no no! Oh, come on!” There were laughs all around as the redhead next to Logan threw the controller down and turned to mock glare at Lily and James. “Lily, what did I tell you? Don’t distract him when he plays on my team!”

“Stop crying and pay up, O’Hara!” a guy from the other team yelled, before giving a high-five to his partner.

Between all the ruckus and bickering that followed, a tall girl with curly blond hair came to stand next to them with a curious look. 

“Who’s this?”

“Oh yeah,” Lily sat up, getting the attention of the whole room. “Everyone, these are Remus and Leo. Remus is Sirius' new neighbor, so be nice to them!”

Remus laughed awkwardly at the motherly introduction and pulled at a loose thread on his sleeve. “Thanks Lily. It’s nice to meet you all.”

"Hello," Leo smiled brightly, earning himself a dopey smile from the boy next to Logan.

The blond girl that had approached them smiled a wicked grin, “you guys just stepped into the lion’s den. I’m Marlene, by the way. These are Talker and Kasey,” she said pointing to the pair that had just won. The guy named Talker smiled broadly, but didn’t wink at Remus like he had the first time they had seen each other. “And the sore loser over there is Finn.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Pots has the attention span of a two year old!”

There were a lot more people sitting around, whose introductions were lost under the chirping war that ensued as the guys put in a new game. Remus’ face lit up when he looked up at the screen.

“Is that the new NHL game?”

Most heads turned his way, and the guy that was changing games even stopped in the middle of the action as if Remus had just announced to the whole room that he wanted to dance around naked.

“Yeah, do you play?”

It was Sirius that had asked, which surprised Remus since it was the first thing he’d said directly to him since he’d entered the room. Black looked surprised, his body completely turned to face Remus as opposed to the sideway glances he’d been throwing his way.

“I’ve been thinking about buying it for a while, but I’ve never tried it before. I loved the previous version though.” At Sirius’ shocked expression, Remus raised an eyebrow, “Is it so weird that I enjoy playing video games?”

“No,” Sirius choked out, and then cleared his throat. “No. It’s just that we don’t usually meet people that seem so eager to play with us rather than getting buzzed out of their minds.”

Remus scoffed, “I very much prefer this type of party to be honest.” His thought was echoed by laughs and nods of agreement all around.

Settling more comfortably on the couch, Sirius removed the fake claws and bent down to grab a controller, turning to offer it to Remus. “Play with me?”

The guys in the room looked at each other in a way that Remus thought was a bit suspicious, which made him narrow his eyes at Black, who rolled his and waved the remote between them. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t bite y’know.”

Remus stared into those silver eyes and was lost for a second. There was a fire burning in his gaze, he seemed more earnest than he’d ever seen him before. In that moment, Remus forgot that this was the guy he was trying to avoid, the one that got his emotions in complete disarray, and he absentmindedly took the control in his hands before sitting down next to Sirius. Leo sat at his other side, slapping him on the back.

“Kick his ass, Loops.”

Finn’s head lifted at the same time that Remus turned to grin at Leo, and Remus had to keep in a chuckle. Boy, Leo was really getting some attention tonight.

Sirius chose to play with Pittsburgh, while Remus chose Dallas, and before Remus could properly think about what he was doing, the game had started.

For the first few minutes, Sirius controlled the pace and took the lead with a smug expression on his face, punching the buttons almost lazily. The corner of Remus’ mouth quirked up. Sirius was good, really good, but he was too conceited, and soon he would regret that.

Indeed, right after that, Remus scored a goal and Sirius’ face dropped. Leo whooped, giving him a high-five while Sirius sat forward and leant on his elbows, his eyes set on the TV. It was a very heated deal after that.

Both of them fought like it was a life or death sort of situation, bumping their shoulders occasionally and chirping each other as if they were actually on the ice.

“Don’t you think Sirius looks an awful lot like Letang?” a shocked James whispered into Lily’s ear, but everyone around heard him.

“Oh wow, that’s terrifying,” Finn was looking from the screen to Sirius’ face with wide eyes.

Remus snorted, and he was surprised to realize he was actually enjoying himself. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t had so much fun with anyone other than Leo in a really long time; it was hard to keep the wide grin from his face as he started catching up to Sirius.

“C’mon Rem, you almost have it,” Leo encouraged when they were tied.

Sirius threw a side glance their way with a frown, just as Remus shot the puck and scored another goal. The game finished not too long after with a scream of “Yes!” from both Remus and Leo, who laughed together and hugged each other, Remus giggling when Leo ruffled his hair.

“Finn...dimples,” Remus heard the whisper from somewhere in the room and looked up to see who’d said it, but was instead met by a disbelieving gaze. Sirius was almost gawking at him, his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open, but his eyes were bright and Remus ducked his head when he felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

Then he glanced around and realized that other people in the room were staring at him in different states of wide eyes.

“What?”

Finn was the one to break the short silence, “Just...bitch ass moves, Remus.”

That prompted an onslaught of questions.

“How did you do that?”

“None of us has ever beaten Sirius in that game before.”

“What do you do again?”

Remus looked at Talker, rubbing the back of his neck, “Um. I’m a PT and a yoga instructor.”

"Well, shit," Talker nodded approvingly. Remus supposed he didn’t really look like a gamer, but he didn’t get what the fuss was all about.

“He’s pretty famous too, a lot of people are waiting in line for his classes,” Leo added with a note of pride in his voice.

“Oh!” Remus turned to look at Kasey, who had his eyes trained on him. “That’s where I know you from! My girlfriend Natalie is obsessed with your videos. She says you’re a great teacher, and not at all bad to look at,” he said with a straight face.

Remus’ cheeks flushed a deeper red in a matter of seconds and he looked down to avoid everyone’s gazes. Especially those grey eyes that seemed to look into his soul.

“Mon dieu, il y a des vidéos?” Sirius muttered, making Leo laugh. Sirius’ head snapped towards him, his eyes widening as Leo replied something in french with a smirk etched on his soft features, something that Remus didn’t understand but it made Sirius choke on his words.

“What’s that?” Remus asked, but Leo only shook his head, still laughing, before his eyes drifted off and found Finn and Logan staring at him. A blush appeared on his cheeks, and Remus could practically hear the other two boys swooning.

There was a deep scowl on Sirius’ face again, who was still very much staring at Remus. Was it because he didn’t like Remus? Or because he didn't like losing? What a sore loser, Remus thought, but he felt squirmish under that gaze. Why is he still staring at me?

But then he saw Black glancing at Leo’s pride bracelet, his expression going harder. Oh God, that would be the cherry on top if he was a homophobic, wouldn’t it? He was about to ask if he had a problem, but someone spoke first.

“I believe the word used was hot,” Natalie’s voice drifted in as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. Remus pulled a face at her.

“Nat, you can’t just go saying those things!”

“What? It’s true,” she shrugged. “I mean, I won’t if it bothers you, but that aside, you’re definitely better than half the people out there.”

James threw his hands in the air impatiently. “I still can’t believe you beat Pa-” he started, but was interrupted by a death glare and he cleared his throat, “Sirius. I can’t believe you won against Sirius.” Then a mischievous smile slowly spread on his face. “I mean, Remus, you could probably beat that Padfoot guy, and he does that for a living.”

Remus snorted, “as if. There’s no way I could ever beat Pads.”

He saw eyebrows being raised, and the scowl completely disappearing from Sirius’ features, to be replaced by a perplexed expression.

“You...you know about him?” he asked, with such awe in his voice that Remus frowned.

“I...yes? I’ve followed his channel since before he got famous,” he shrugged.

“Isn’t that interesting?” James said with a smirk, turning to look at Sirius, who punched him in the arm. James’ smile just widened and Remus’ frown deepened as he continued, "I wonder what you could possibly like about him."

“I personally think that Padfoot is a stuck-up,” Logan said off-handedly, ignoring the daggers Sirius was shooting his way.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s all that, but he’s a bit annoying really,” Finn added, barely keeping in the laughter.

Leo raised his eyebrows, glancing sideways at Remus when he noticed him tensing up, his fists clenching.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” he finally said, causing the laughter to die down. “Padfoot built himself from the ground up, he didn’t have any outside help. And he’s not a stuck-up! Even in the face of all the nonsense criticism he gets, he helps a lot of people in all sorts of situations without even...” Remus trailed off, his voice dying down. He felt like he’d been thrown underwater. He stared off at nothing, his eyes getting slightly unfocused as he tried to think solely of breathing, but he couldn’t avoid being suddenly thrown into a memory.

The cold bed with rumpled sheets. The beeping of his own heart in the hospital machine. His mum’s painting on the nightstand. The smell of antiseptics and dull walls closing in on him. Not being able to get air into his lungs.  A retreating back, walking away from him. Being left alone, alone alone al–

He stood up suddenly, finally taking a shaky breath in.

“I should go check on my dog.” Leo glanced his way, and Remus gave him a reassuring smile, “You can stay if you want to. You have the keys.” He gave him a little nod to convey the answer to Leo’s unspoken question. I’m fine, don’t worry.

Remus turned around and exited the room with a dull ‘bye’, completely unaware of Sirius’ utterly soft expression as he watched him go.

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 37

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: New Year’s Eve, pt 2

A/N: A new chapter! We'll finally find out what happened after that annoying cliffhanger in the previous one. Anyway, I would like to note that this chapter deals with some mental health related issues and there is also a mention of a shooting (note: mention) so if you'd rather avoid that kind of stuff, then it may be better to skip this chapter.

That said, I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter! And don't forget that I'm always really happy to hear from you guys!

Words: 3500+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: panic attack, mentions of shooting 

previous chapter / AO3

...

“Calypso, I think you should come. Something’s not right with Leo.”

It took Calypso a moment to register what Nico had said. She just kept staring at him, a frown creeping on her face as she was trying to figure out if she had heard him correctly.

“Something’s… not right with Leo? Wha-what do you mean?” She finally managed to ask.

“We were just talking… I don’t know, not about anything special… and suddenly some fireworks went off nearby. Like, too close for it to be legal. He got really restless - even more than usual - and he wanted to go and look for you but given his state I told him it was probably better if he sat down while I would find you.”

“When you say restless, what exactly do you mean?” Calypso asked.

“He was shaking and his breathing was labored and he got this panicked look on his face… as if he was seeing something I couldn’t see. And when I tried to talk to him, he didn’t respond. He started tapping with his fingers, like he was trying to message me something that way. I don’t know. But I think he’s having a panic attack.”

Calypso’s heart sank. She wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with panic attacks either so she knew how horrifying it could feel. Based on her own experiences, when you were having one, it was really, really hard to convince your brain that it was going to be OK. It just wouldn’t listen. And that could go on for a long while. The worst part was that it could get triggered totally unexpectedly, like now in the middle of the party.

“Oh gods… where is he now? I don’t think he should be alone.” In that moment Calypso didn’t care what the others thought about her worrying; her instinct to be with him was much stronger.

“He’s still in the kitchenette…” Nico responded and Calypso didn’t waste any time, marching out of the balcony as fast as she could.

“So, you think the fireworks triggered the panic attack?” she asked Nico over her shoulder while she was walking.

It took him some effort to keep up with her. “Probably. Before it happened, he was just explaining to me that his family always needed to put Festus into the most light and sound proof room of his home during New Year and 4th of July because he really hated the fireworks. Apparently Festus’ fear is one of the reasons why he himself doesn’t like them.”

“That would certainly make sense,” Calypso agreed. She didn’t have time to ask more when they already reached Leo’s resting spot. Even though she had seen him angry and scared before, this felt different compared to those times. He had wrapped his arms around his shaky legs and when he heard the others approaching, he looked up, his eyes bewildered. Calypso even noticed that there was also wetness on his cheeks and she needed to brace herself so that she didn’t start tearing up as well. She sat down next to him and started speaking in as soothing a voice as she was capable of in that situation.

“Leo… It’s gonna be OK. I’m right here.” She started stroking his back with light, gentle motions.

“Cal?” He muttered with a broken voice. “Thank goodness… I was afraid that…”

“Afraid of what?” Calypso frowned, still trying to sound as calm as possible. “That I was going to go somewhere?”

“Not… here…” he murmured, referring to the fact that they had several pairs of ears listening to them.

“Oh. Right,” she replied understandingly. “Hey… I’m going to ask Frank if he’d allow you to rest in his bedroom for a moment. You know… just until this passes.”

“Fine,” Leo nodded slightly. Luckily Calypso didn’t have to go searching because Frank entered the room as if on cue.

“Frank, I think Leo needs some quiet space for a moment,” Calypso told him when he was observing the situation. “Can we borrow your bedroom?”

“Sure, of course,” Frank agreed instantly.

“Thanks a lot. Don’t worry, you’ll get your room back once he recovers,” Calypso addressed Frank before turning back to Leo. “OK, let’s go then.”

She took his hand and pulled him up, directing him towards the bedroom. When she turned to give the hosts a reassuring nod, she noticed they were watching her and Leo worriedly.

“Uh, do you need any company there?” Hazel asked.

“What do you say, Leo?” Calypso didn’t want to make any decisions for him.

“Just Cal is fine,” he muttered.

“Thanks, though,” Calypso addressed Hazel. “I will let you know if I need any help. I, um, have some experience with this kind of stuff so I think I can handle it.”

“Alright. We’ll make sure no one interrupts him,” Hazel referred to the other guests who were still partying on the other side of the wall. Calypso didn’t understand how anyone could still feel festive but then again, they didn’t know her boyfriend like she did.

Closing the door behind her, Calypso helped Leo on Frank’s bed and turned on a light on the bedside table. Then she sat down next to him and swept his hair from his eyes, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. When she pulled away, she sighed:

“I’ve also had panic attacks in the past. I’m no expert by any means, but for me, it usually helps a bit if I lie down and just try to focus on my breathing. Maybe you could try that.”

“Alright,” Leo complied. He laid down on the bed, using her legs as a pillow for his head, and rested his hands over his chest. Calypso ran her fingers through his hair and kept talking to him soothingly.

“So what I do is that I breathe in slowly – I try to count to four when I do that – then I hold it for a moment, and then breathe out just as slowly. And repeat.”

Leo blinked to let her know he understood and followed her advice. Calypso knew that she should try to reduce the distractions in that situation so she didn’t say anything for a while; she just kept combing his hair with her fingers and humming the first song that came to her mind; New Year’s Day.

“Do you feel any better?” she asked once Leo’s hyperventilating seemed to have calmed down somewhat. She herself felt lighter as well seeing that he was starting to recover.

“A bit,” Leo answered hoarsely.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes a moment to pass but you’ll get there,” she said encouragingly. “Just keep your eyes closed and try to focus on something that keeps you grounded to this moment. Like something you feel or hear or smell or anything…”

“I like it when you play with my hair. It feels nice,” Leo stated bluntly.

“OK. I’ll keep doing that, then.”

It was quiet for a while again, aside from the sounds outside the room. Calypso was thankful that the firework sounds weren’t that loud at that moment because it could have set back Leo’s recovery process.

“Talk to me,” he said suddenly. “About anything.”

“Alright.” Calypso stopped to decide a topic for a moment. “This may sound weird, but when I’m having one of my bad moments, I try to picture my happy place. I think that was something my mum advised me to do already when I was a kid.”

“What is your happy place like then?” Leo asked quietly.

A tiny smile raised on Calypso’s lips when she started imagining it.

“It’s some place warm. Somewhere where I can see the sun shining and birds singing and smell the salty sea air and maybe some eucalyptus trees… Earlier… when I tried picturing it… I was usually alone there. Like, I wasn’t able to picture anyone else with me there for some reason.” She was glad that Leo couldn’t see her blushing because his eyes were closed. Normally, she would have a hard time admitting these kinds of things but seeing Leo’s vulnerable state, she felt her walls disappear. “But now? I think I’d want you to be there too. And why not Festus and maybe some other animals too if you liked that. Georgina doing her things somewhere in the background. And… Well, that was it.” Calypso did have another wish too, but it was way too personal and way too early into their relationship to even mention it, especially in the current situation.

“I think that sounds great,” Leo answered. A tiny, lopsided smile appeared on his face briefly and Calypso took that as a good sign. He wasn’t trembling anymore either.

“Yeah. Well, what about you? What’s your happy place?”

Leo thought about it for a while. “I… I feel most comfortable with my machines. So… I think I’d like to be in a giant garage. Where it smells like machine oil and where I get to listen to Rolling Stones or some other old school rock bands…”

Calypso remembered that Leo had once told her his mom had used to listen to those bands. “I get why you would want that, but wouldn’t it be lonely there?” she asked.

“No,” Leo shook his head. “I wouldn’t be alone there. I would like you to be there too. If you wanted to. And of course my family and Festus too.”

“But what would I do in your garage?” Calypso asked confusedly.

“You would have your own space there,” Leo answered slowly. “You know, for your own things. Sewing machine, fabrics, painting equipment, you name it. Maybe there would be a greenhouse outside the garage for your plants… or a garden… Whatever you prefer.”

“Oh.” Calypso’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when she tried to picture it. Leo had clearly thought about this topic more than she had expected. “That sounds amazing…”

She was already going to change the topic when Leo surprised her again by continuing: “You and I are both good with our hands, making new things, so we could try to create something together, combining our skills. Who knows, maybe we could even start a company or something together. Once we’ve graduated, of course.”

“Hold on.” Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. Would you actually want to do that?”

“Yeah, why not?” Leo asked, finally opening his eyes and looking up at Calypso. In the darkness of the room they looked almost black but the lamp on the bedside table gave them a warm glow.

“You mean it?” Calypso had never had anyone who would have included her into their future plans in her life before and suddenly she felt a bit overwhelmed with emotion when she understood that someone actually cared about her that much.

“Yeah. Of course. You really think I start joking about that when I’m…” he gestured at himself, “in this state?”

“No, of course not,” Calypso tried to reassure him, removing one of her hands from his hair and squeezing his hand instead. “It’s a… really nice dream. Maybe… if everything goes well… it can become true,” Her voice started cracking because she had just realized how much she’d really want the dream to become true, for both of their sake, but she found it scary to think too far into the future. The quietness from her father’s end kept her on her toes even now and there were a lot of other question marks in the air as well.

“Maybe.”

“You’re not hyperventilating anymore,” Calypso decided to change the topic before she got too sentimental. “That’s good.”

“Your advice really helped,” Leo stated. However, his eyes were focused on something Calypso couldn’t see and that made her believe that something was still bothering him.

“Does this happen to you often?” Calypso wanted to know. “I mean, the panic attacks.”

“Not so often lately,” Leo replied. “Believe it or not, for the past year or so I’ve been pretty good.” He lowered his voice into a whisper when he added: “Even better when I got a new roommate. But before I moved in with my family and got some therapy, it was… it was pretty bad.”

“I hate that you had to go through that…” Calypso tightened her grip on his hand slightly.

“It is what it is,” Leo sighed. “At some point… you almost get used to it. But really, I have made some progress. Um, despite the slight setback at Christmas,” he added when he saw Calypso’s skeptical expression.

“But that was understandable. It can be a difficult time for anyone…” Calypso left the words ‘who has lost someone important to them’ unsaid because she doubted that Leo needed more reminders of that particular incident in that moment.

“Yeah… You might be right,” Leo muttered, and silence fell into the room again. Calypso kept absentmindedly running her thumb on the back of his hand while she listened to the chatting and laughing on the other side of the wall.

Eventually, she asked quietly: “Do you know what caused the attack? If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, of course.”

“The fireworks… I remembered some things when I heard the bang…” Leo managed to say.

Calypso raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry if I ask too much, but what things did you remember?”

“It was… I was living on the streets back in those days…”

Calypso allowed Leo to take his time, not pushing him to continue with his answer.

“It was late at night… I was still in Houston back then. I had this spot in the outskirts of the town where I thought I was safe from the cops and other people I didn’t want to run into so I used to hang out there a lot.”

“Safe from cops? What do you mean by that?”

“I knew that if they caught me, they would bring me right back to my old foster home… Or worse, a new one that was even worse than the previous. I’ve told you, I didn’t have good experiences in my foster homes.”

“Yeah… I remember,” Calypso nodded understandingly.

“Besides, I didn’t exactly have a lot of money so I may have had to shoplift once or twice to keep myself alive while I was on the streets. So, not exactly the cops’ best friend. But anyway, that wasn’t the point of this story. I was gonna tell you what happened on one specific day.”

“OK. No rush,” Calypso said. She noticed that Leo seemed to get stiffer again on her lap but as long as still wanted to keep talking, she didn’t want to interrupt.

“So, I was settling into my hiding spot for the night when I heard it. Gunshots nearby. At first I hoped that someone was just out there hunting in the forest, but it was pitch black outside so the timing didn’t make sense. Then I heard footsteps coming closer to where I was hiding and more gunshots. I decided I needed to leave my hiding spot until the people were gone but I made a lot of noise when I tried to withdraw farther from the road so the shooter probably heard me. I don’t really remember what exactly happened after that but I know there was another bang… and a bullet on the tree right behind me… only a few feet from my head.”

“Oh gods,” Calypso gasped. She wished she could say something comforting as a response but it was easier said than done. Leo saved her from the trouble, though, because he added bitterly:

“I got lucky that the shooter had the police after him because he didn’t have time to stop and make sure he had hit me. But… from what I later heard… not everyone was that lucky.” Leo sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the tears.

Calypso clenched her fists. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have made you tell me that. But what… What kind of person does that to other people? Especially to kids? I don’t… I don’t get it…”

“Yeah… me neither.”

“But that incident… The sound of the fireworks made you remember the shooting?” Calypso attempted to connect the dots.

“Yeah... When I heard that sound… I dunno. My mind started racing and I started wondering what if it actually was a shooter and not just some fireworks? I didn’t see where the sound came from because the curtains were closed, after all. And when my mind starts racing, it really starts racing. You weren’t there at that moment so I got afraid that something had happened to you. And the panic attack was ready.”

Calypso understood perfectly. When she was having one of her bad moments, she kept reliving her sister’s accident and worrying it would happen again with someone else. It had taken her a long while to convince herself that it was safe enough to drive a car or to be a passenger in one. Even though she was able to drive again these days, the small nagging noise still hadn’t entirely disappeared from her head and she doubted it ever would.

“Well, I’m here now. I’m alright. You’re alright.” She gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Come here.” She patted the spot next to her to tell him to get up from his lying position so she could hug him. Leo looked at him questioningly for a moment, though.

“But what if someone comes in and sees us?”

“I kinda don’t care right now,” Calypso stated seriously. “Besides… I think we are not that great of actors. They probably know anyway.”

“Alright,” Leo replied and sat up on his spot on the bed. He buried his face against her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, stroking her back as if to get a verification that she was really there with him.

“Gods, I’m making you regret your decision to be my girlfriend, aren’t I?” he mumbled against her skin.

“No,” Calypso said firmly when she broke the hug. “If anything, I think I love you even more when I hear about these things. You’re a really strong person who has just been through too much, too young.”

“But… you shouldn’t have to be my therapist,” Leo noted.

“I don’t see it that way. I want to help you feel better because you’re important to me. Besides...” Calypso added, thinking that a little humor wouldn’t hurt in that situation, “I’m trusting you’ll do the same for me when I need it.”

“Okay, I’ll be prepared,” Leo promised.

Suddenly the two realized that the people outside the room had gathered together and were doing a countdown.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

“Woah, sounds like it’s midnight already. We must have been here for at least an hour…” Calypso said.

“Seven, six, five…”

“Yeah. Time flies fast when you’re having a panic attack,” Leo managed to ‘joke’.

“Four, three, two, one…”

“I don’t get how you can joke about it already, but OK.”

“Happy new year!” yelled a big group of people in sync outside Frank’s bedroom.

“Happy new year,” the flatmates said at the same time.

“Or at least a better year than the previous one,” Leo added. “Although, I will admit it did have some good mo… woah!”

Calypso surprised Leo by gently pulling him closer to her, her hands coming to rest on each side of his neck when her lips touched his. Even though they had already shared a few kisses since the moment when they had decided to cross the line between a friend and a lover, Calypso still felt the sparks flying down her spine like fireworks when she felt Leo responding to it. His lips felt so soft (had he been using lip balm, she wondered) and his body so warm against hers, and it wasn’t until then that she realized that she had been actually feeling rather cold in her dark sleeveless dress.

“Goodness, Cal, you’re freezing,” Leo noted when they broke apart, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “This is where a gentleman would offer you a coat but as it happens, I don’t have one.”

Calypso smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Guess I was at the balcony just a bit too long.”

“Oh. Well, don’t do that again,” Leo said seriously.

“What if I will?” Calypso questioned.

“Then I’ll build a sauna into our flat and make sure you use it no matter what my fear says.”

“Wow. I doubt our landlord would love that. I mean, you building a sauna without permission.”

“Pfft, who cares about his opinion?” Leo asked before turning his attention to the sounds of celebration on the other side of the door. “Hey, should we go back to the others? I think I can handle it now.”

“Alright,” Calypso agreed. “And remember, we can leave any time you feel like it.”

“Okay,” Leo nodded and got up from the bed. They held hands for a moment longer before opening the door and having to act like nothing had happened again. Calypso didn’t mind the acting too much, though, when she saw that Leo was able to smile and joke again. Hopefully that year really would be a better one.

[misscorn]

Day 3

Winter/Rings

This one is extra late oops lol @sihjrweek THIS ALSO TOOK ENTIRELY TOO LONG TO WRITE SO ITS NOT PROOFREAD SO IF U SEE A MISTAKE NO U DIDNT

***

"Anchan's birthday is in a week." Onodera Youko said, currently sitting at the dinner table across from her son, her husband absent.

Ritsu nodded as he pushed his food around on his plate. He was fully aware that March 14th, An's birthday, was fast approaching, but not for the reasons his mother was hoping. No, it was because March 14th was also White Day. Ritsu was both severely stressed and excited about it.

Ritsu planned on going on an aquarium date with his Senpai after school, thinking it'd be a little more special than their typical bookstore-pandaway combo. Not that Ritsu disliked this pattern at all! He just wanted to do something different for the holiday.

Then, they'd go back to Ritsu's house where the brunette would prepare dinner. His parents weren't going to be home since his dad always took his mother on a trip for White Day from the 14th to the 17th, so he figured it was the perfect time to finally invite Saga Senpai to his house! He had already started practicing cooking and baking the day after Valentine's Day. He figured he'd need as much practice as he could get, seeing as he had never done either of them before, but he was definitely improving!

Ritsu intended on making white chocolate chip cookies as a gift. Although his Senpai didn't particularly like sweets, it was tradition to give something white. So, he'd give the cookies in addition to some bitter dark chocolates that Saga was more likely to enjoy. Additionally, he'd give a white rose, since his Senpai had given him a red one and he thought it would be a sweet gesture to mirror. And...perhaps the most embarrassing and overkill gift idea of all: a jar full of paper origami stars that, when unfolded, have reasons he loves Saga written on them. His Senpai had asked him once before why he loved him and Ritsu simply didn't have the time or the courage to say all the reasons to his face, but he could definitely write them down!

"What do you plan on doing for her birthday?" Youko asked, interrupting Ritsu's thoughts about his string of plans.

"Oh, well, since it lands on a school day we were going to hangout over the weekend instead." Ritsu said. "But, I'm not really sure what to get her..." He admitted.

"Why don't you just spend time with her after school? It's not as special if you celebrate after her birthday's already passed. Plus, it's White Day. She did give you something on Valentine's day, didn't she?" Youko said. She recalled Ritsu coming home on Valentine's day, giddy and flushed as he held tupperware full of homemade chocolates. An was really such a sweet girl, going through the trouble of making the chocolates herself.

Ritsu felt a swirl of dread start to form in his stomach, recognizing his mother's tone. "Yes, but mother-"

"Its the polite and gentlemanly thing to do. Imagine; not spending White Day with your fiancée and to make matters worse, blowing off her birthday as well!" Youko said.

"Mother-"

"And as for what you can get her, I have a great idea." Youko smiled brightly. "Promise rings! Such a cute and meaningful gift, she'd love it." Youko continued.

"Anchan and I aren't a couple!" Ritsu did not mean to raise his voice, but his frustrations of being talked over got the best of him.

Youko's cheerful demeanor left her. "Don't be ridiculous, Ritsu. You and Anchan are a perfect match. She is a lovely, intelligent, kind girl from a fine background and she undoubtedly adores you. What more could you ask for?"

"Mother, I..." Ritsu trailed off and frowned. "I just-I don't like her that way!"

"You won't even give it a chance! Who could possibly be a better fit for you than Anchan?"

"I'm only fifteen, why do we have to start talking about marriage now?" Ritsu desperately wished his mother would let this go, but his mother was just as stubborn as he was.

"Because your future is important and should matter to you, Ritsu." Youko said. "You are spending White Day with Anchan and that's final. If you'd like, I can help you pick out a pair of promise rings." She offered, the happy tilt in her voice returning as she tried to force the conversation back on track.

Ritsu just mumbled something in assent in order to stop this awful conversation, fully intending on avoiding that little ring shopping trip. Let his mother believe that he would spend White Day with Anchan. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Ritsu tried to act normal around his Senpai for the rest of the week, (well, his version of normal, which was already a certain level of nervousness) but he could hardly contain himself.

"You're being weird." Saga commented on March 12th. Exactly 1 day, 8 hours, 14 minutes and 25 seconds before 12 A.M. on White Day. Yes, Ritsu was counting.

"S-S-Sorry, I just-um-I-I had something I wanted to ask you." Okay, this was it, deep breaths Onodera, deep breaths. "I was wondering if you w-wanted to...spendWhiteDaywithme?" Ritsu squeezed his eyes shut tight as he waited for an answer.

"...What the hell?"

Well, that wasn't a good sign.

"I thought we were already spending White Day together." Saga said. "Or did you forget what you said?"

"N-n-no, of course not, the opposite actually, I've been thinking about White Day nonstop and what I should do, what would be a fun date, what sort of presents I should get you-"

Saga glanced around the library to make sure they were alone as Ritsu rambled before he cut him off with a gentle kiss.

Ritsu blinked a few times, dazed and completely embarrassed, but undeniably happy.

"So, tell me these ideas you've been thinking about 'nonstop'." Saga echoed.

"Well, I want some of it to be a surprise." Ritsu said after he managed to get his thoughts back in order. "But I thought it'd be fun if after school we went to an aquarium together and then...my house for dinner."

"Your house?" Saga was surprised to say the least, his normally stoic face for once betraying him.

"U-Unless that's not okay?" Ritsu said, automatically assuming the worst, as he typically did. "We don't have to go to my house, we can do something else-"

"No, you can't take back the offer now. I'm coming to your house." Saga said quickly. He was endlessly curious about Ritsu's home and more specifically Ritsu's room, so he'd be damned if he let this opportunity slip by him.

Ritsu smiled a little and nodded before he became shy. "And um...my parents won't be home...s-so..."

"Ahhhhh, I see. Who knew you were such a pervert?" Saga teased, but his straight face and serious tone gave no hint to his playfulness.

If it were possible for humans to combust into flames on the spot, Ritsu would have done so. The younger teen shook his head vehemently as he made frantic and wild hand gestures. "No! I-I didn't mean it like-I'm not-!"

"I was just messing with you." Saga smirked a little bit. Normally he didn't really joke around like this, but Ritsu's reactions were priceless. Even in the beginning of their relationship Saga would never say something like that, but Ritsu managed to get deeper and deeper into his heart every day and break down more and more walls.

Ritsu's whole face was red, including the very tips of his ears. He looked away out of embarrassment, not knowing what to say.

Chu

Ritsu swore his body somehow heated up even more after Saga leaned forward to press a kiss on the back of his head.

"I'm looking forward to White Day. It'll be fun." Saga said. "I'm expecting to be impressed."

"Y-You're teasing me again." Ritsu complained.

'It's not my fault you make it so easy.' Saga thought.

White Day was sure to be fun this year and hopefully for many years to come.

...Or maybe not.

The day had started off fine, completely normal in fact. When Ritsu woke up his parents were already gone. They always left early in the morning.

Ritsu was completely exhausted. He had stayed up all night, excited and anxious about White Day, but Ritsu's exhaustion caused him to miss the small box and a note left for him in the kitchen.

It was such an innocent item with good intentions behind it.

It was a thoughtful gift that would surely be cherished.

It was going to ruin everything.

Ritsu had already made the cookies last night and had the dark chocolate, keeping both of them stored in his kitchen. He'd also purchased a white rose the previous day, telling his mother it was for Anchan when she asked about it. It probably didn't help to feed into the insane fantasy his mother had, but he didn't have any other excuses. The jar of stars was also hidden in his room underneath his bed. He'd spent at least 4 or 5 days making them all. He planned on giving Saga these gifts in privacy later today.

As the day went on, Ritsu started to think that maybe it would have been better for him just to cut class since he wasn't able to focus at ALL! An agonizing 7 hours later and he was released from his class, hurrying out front where he and Saga had agreed to meet after school.

Ritsu beat the older teen to the entrance, waiting for him as patiently as he could, unable to contain his bright smile once he saw him

'Damn it, why does he have to smile at me like that? I don't know if I'm going to survive today.' Saga thought as he walked over. "Hey."

"Hi, Senpai! H-Happy White Day..." Ritsu said, the latter half coming out a little quieter so no passing students would hear.

"No gift?" Saga didn't actually care about a present, excited to just spend the afternoon with Ritsu, but he couldn't pass the opportunity to mess with him.

"S-Senpai, don't tease me!" Ritsu complained with a pout. Shit, that expression wasn't good for Saga's heart. "They're at my house. But come on, let's go!" Ritsu's excitement returned to him quickly as he set off. Saga followed.

The aquarium was a little busy, so it didn't give Saga many opportunities to sneak attack Ritsu with PDA, but he still enjoyed himself. Of course, he watched Ritsu more than he watched the actual animals, but it was still a good choice for a date spot.

When they finally did have a moment alone, Saga reached out, gently taking Ritsu's hand into his. "Thanks for bringing me here."

Ritsu blushed, but felt electrified by the touch. "Of course, Senpai. I'm glad you're having fun." He smiled.

Saga couldn't deny he was enjoying himself, but what he was REALLY looking forward to was finally being in Ritsu's house! He had his own preconceived notions about Ritsu and how he lived, so he was curious about how right or wrong he was. And the hormonal teenager in him wanted to do it in Ritsu's bed.

But, when they finally left the aquarium and arrived at Ritsu's home, Saga wished that he had jumped into a damn fish tank instead.

Sitting on his Kouhai's porch was the girl who had given Ritsu chocolate on Valentine's day.

"Richan!" She stood when spotting them, looking angry. "Where have you been?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"A-Anchan? What are you doing here?" Ritsu asked, genuinely confused.

"Didn't your mother talk to you? She called my mother and set up for us to spend the day together! For my birthday! We were supposed to meet after school, but you never showed so I came here, but you obviously weren't home." She frowned and crossed her arms.

"No! My mother didn't tell me anything about this." Ritsu said, going up to the front door and taking out his house key to unlock it.

Saga cleared his throat.

"Oh-uh-Anchan, this is Saga Masamune, Saga Senpai, this is Kohinata An." Ritsu hastily introduced them. Crap, this was bad, this was so bad!

"I think I recognize you...you and Richan hang out together at the library, right?" An said.

"Hai." Saga responded blandly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you." An said politely.

"Same." Saga looked away from her and An decided to ignore his rudely aloof nature. A friend of Richan's was a friend of hers, after all.

"Um, well, come in I guess..." Ritsu said before going inside, Anchan following.

What. The. Fuck. This girl already had her chance on Valentine's Day and, according to Ritsu, was rejected. Now she was going to interrupt White Day too? Saga was absolutely pissed, though he tried not to let it show as he walked inside.

"Um, I was going to make dinner, if you want to sit in the living room and relax..." Ritsu said awkwardly. He was with his two favorite people, so this shouldn't have been as bad as it was, but oh boy was it terrible.

"I'll help!" An offered with a smile.

Ritsu tried to insist that it was okay and that she was a guest and that she didn't have to, but An ignored him and marched into the kitchen. Ritsu couldn't do much other than shoot Saga an apologetic look before following her. Saga decided to trail behind him, not wanting the girl to have even a moment of alone time with HIS boyfriend.

"Hey, Richan, what's this?" An said, regarding the box on the table.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess my parents left it this morning before they left." Ritsu picked up the note and started to read it. His mother detailed the plans she had set up for An and Ritsu today in the note and also explained that inside the box was...

"Rings? Are these what I think they are Richan?" An asked after opening the box, her curiosity having gotten the better of her. She plucked the note out of Ritsu's hands, the boy frozen in terror as he realized what was happening. "They are! Promise rings! I'll have to thank your mother for getting them for us, they're so cute! Let's put them on!" An beamed.

SNAP

Saga turned and stormed out of the kitchen, Ritsu breaking out of his shock when he heard the front door open and slam shut.

Ritsu quickly ran after Saga, ignoring An's concern as she followed him out. "Senpai, wait!" He called after him, somehow managing to catch up.

"What the fuck, Ritsu?!" Saga whipped around to face him. Oh God, Ritsu had never seen him so angry. "You told me she was just a friend, that you rejected her!"

"She is! I did!" Ritsu insisted. "She's just a friend!"

"Then why the hell is your mom buying the two of you fucking promise rings?! On fucking White Day too!"

Ritsu started to tear up, but he couldn't cry. He needed to explain everything before he lost the person he loved. If he started crying then he wouldn't be able to get a word out.

"W-We're in an arranged marriage." He admitted, feeling so ashamed for not telling his Senpai the truth earlier. "But I don't like An like that! Its a fantasy created by our parents and I've told my mother over and over again that I won't go through with it! A-An and I are not a couple and we're not getting married!" Ritsu insisted.

'Please, please, please believe me, he has to believe me, please.' Ritsu silently begged.

Saga looked between Ritsu and An, who was standing on the porch. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head and refusing to meet Ritsu's eyes. "Looks like you're the only one who thinks that way." He turned and walked off again, Ritsu staring helplessly as he did. The image of his Senpai blurred with tears before they finally started to fall.

[goroakechioneshots]

Maybe One Day (Goro Akechi x Reader): Affection… such things had ultimately been denied to Goro Akechi throughout the entirety of his childhood, and so he found it an unnecessary hassle to give such treatment to others. Outside his usual ‘detective prince’ mannerisms, he simply didn’t associate himself with people if it could be helped. All his pining fangirls were turned down. Gently, of course, because it would ruin the spotless reputation he’d fought so hard to build up if he met their constant confessions and flirtatious advances with hostility.

And then there was you…

At first, he assumed you would be no different to the masses he’d charmed before. However, his detective prince facade fell flat in your eyes. Not to say that you had rudely dismissed him, but there was a certain lack of interest in your gaze when he was around. He couldn’t help but wonder why that was. Everyone was on a mission to appease him; his classmates, his teachers, his fangirls, the media… But you treated him like just another person. Then again, Akechi didn’t mull over this at first. It wasn’t too weird that one person out of hundreds didn’t seem to care when they were talking to a celebrity. There were more important things to focus on, and so these brief thoughts faded into the background for a while.

That is, until you were both assigned on a group project together.

Goro was grateful that the teacher had assigned the groups herself, because whenever a project came up he was always swarmed with other students hoping to partner with him. Not because he was smart, but just so they could brag to people or make it out as though they were friends. It was a real hassle, and Akechi would end up lowkey begging the teacher to let him work alone. Which, of course, would wind up piling more work onto the strenuous detective duties he already took on.

After the bell rang, he approached you. Admittedly, with some apprehension. Even though you had shown little to no interest in him or his detective role in the past, it was hard to shake the inkling that people only cared about being around him for his status.

“Ah! LastName-san…? I believe we were assigned to work on the history project together.” He approached your desk near the upper middle of the room, giving the pleasant smile which always had his fangirls swooning.

You looked up at him, a book open on your desk, then looked around the room blearily. Had the bell already rung? A little disgruntled that time had passed so quickly, you closed your book and began gathering your things. “Oh… ok. Do you want me to focus on the economic and political sections while you handle geography and culture? Or whichever you want to work on… I don’t mind.”

Akechi analyzed the out-of-touch figure before him somewhat curiously. Such a straightforward and business-like response. You hadn’t even smiled at him, though you didn’t frown or glare either. There was an odd glint to your eyes though, that mellowed out when the both of you made eye contact. He honestly wasn’t used to it.

He played innocent, as always, and laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. “Geography and culture works fine… The other two areas aren’t really my strong suit.”

It was a natural attempt to win your interest. Not because he wanted it, parsay, but because he was so used to utilizing his detective persona to make people favor him… he was caught a little off-guard when you ignored it once more.

“Alright.” And that was it. You grabbed your bag, swung it over your shoulder, and meandered off. No attempt to elongate the conversation.

Akechi hummed to himself thoughtfully as you left the class, but a text notification distracted him. He pulled out his phone. It was from Shido… A scowl nearly adorned his lips, but he held it back. Couldn’t let his peers see him break character, after all. More importantly, it seemed he wouldn’t have time to work on the project tonight. There was business to deal with in the Metaverse… again.

Several weeks passed. Between his detective work, other classes, and commands from Shido, it wasn’t too uncommon for him to slip on an assignment or two. That said, the history project had been completely ushered to the back of his mind until, surprisingly, you approached him one day after class.

“Hey. I finished my half of the project and compiled it onto some slides. Can you send me your half when it’s done so I can save the completed assignment on a flash drive?”

Oh…

Oh shit…

In a flash, Akechi turned his charm up and attempted to weasel his way out of the situation, putting on a grand show of being ashamed and distressed to really nail the sympathy home. “Ah! Yes, the project… I… have a confession to make. I’ve been so busy with interviews and work that I haven’t been able to complete much.”

Any other doting classmate would have reacted with a ‘worried’ expression. Told him not to push himself too hard and excused him, offering to complete it themselves. His peers would often do anything for the sake of getting his attention for more than a few minutes, and he’d manipulated this to his advantage often. Always rewarding their efforts with a grateful smile and feigned embarrassment.

Not you…

For a moment, you blankly stared at his little ‘have sympathy and excuse me from my responsibilities’ act. He was a good actor. Too good. Unfortunately, you were a master at seeing beyond manipulation, for reasons linked to childhood which you would never share with another soul as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You lied. “Maybe you should cut back on the interviews.”

Akechi paused for a split second at this. It was a very unorthodox response. He realized suddenly that it was going to take a lot more than his usual charm to sway you.

He began to speak, but found he was cut off before he could get a word out.

“There’s still a week left. Crappy work is better than none at all.” You shrugged.

No. No, that wouldn’t do. Goro Akechi couldn’t have a terribly done project. He was the reflection of perfection. His teachers and other students revered him for it. Not that it would be a noticeable damper in his reputation, but he was painstakingly meticulous about every little thing he did.

His feigned embarrassment was starting to shift into real embarrassment. “Is… Is there any way you could… maybe-“

“I’m not committing academic fraud, detective.”

Akechi felt his face flush at how bluntly you called him out, and a few students glanced at the term. Quickly gathering himself and giving a nervous laugh, he insisted, “That’s not what I meant…”

It seemed he’d be stuck scrapping up this half of the project one way or another. A part of him deep down wanted to growl at you like some sort of animal for putting him in such a strenuous situation. There was no ignoring Shido’s orders, but perhaps if he cut off all the interviews for a week and pulled some all-nighters, he’d be able to bring up something presentable. A twinge of disdain for the coming sleepless nights crossed his face.

You watched him carefully, then sighed. “What if I help you?”

He perked up. Perhaps his charisma had won out after all. “That would be great. I’m sorry for the hassle-“

“I never said I was doing it all for you.” You interrupted before that thought could go any further. “We could do a study session. I can look up relevant links and pass them on for you and whatnot, but you’d still be doing the work.”

It was almost funny how suddenly the ‘detective prince’ deflated at this. Still, it was a better deal than finding all the links and information on his own. At the very least, he’d have information passed on to him. It would make the process of research quicker and smoother.

“I suppose that would be fair, wouldn’t it?” He stated, in that pleasant tone he always forced with others.

You gave something of a partial laugh. “You don’t have to act like you’re not mad at me.”

Akechi blinked at you. Was it that easy to tell? Was he not putting up as good an act as he thought he was? This made him secretly flustered for a moment, but you continued before he could try and insist he wasn’t mad.

“We could meet at the school library after school if it works.” You offered.

That wouldn’t work well… “I often have last minute duties to fulfill after school hours.”

Those last minute ‘duties’ were always Shido calling him and handing over a targets name. Sometimes multiple. And if those targets weren’t taken care of in a timely manner, Akechi would be on the receiving end of some violent fits. He shuddered a bit internally. The man would pay eventually. It was just a matter of careful planning and making sure the newly renowned Phantom Thieves didn’t get any larger than they already were.

You frowned, and he knew this vague answer was likely being interpreted as him being lazy, so he wracked his brain for what few times of the day he was actually given time to himself.

“I suppose lunch would work…” He said, with some hesitation.

It sucked that his one time of the day unoccupied by people or stress would now be invaded with both another person and schoolwork, but he knew he needed the help, loath as he was to admit it. He had permission to eat in a certain teacher’s classroom, and used it as a hideaway so that a flood of fans wouldn’t fight to sit with him. And, frankly, he didn’t want to sit with anyone.

“Alright.” You agreed. “We can meet during lunch till it’s done.”

………………………………………………..

For the next few days, Akechi found himself carrying his lunch tray up to the library where you would be waiting with several books and a laptop open ready to assist him. He loathed it at first, but… something strange began to occur. You began to actually engage in conversation with him. When he was working on a section that didn’t require his or your complete focus, the two of you would talk and hang out.

Random, ridiculous conversations such as ‘what’s your favorite book?’ or ‘did you ever watch Neorangers Featherman when you were a kid, or was that just me?’. He hadn’t even realized when he began to answer honestly and not bother trying to fabricate his lies. He didn’t have to, with such trivial things. And yet, he found he enjoyed it. You, talking to him like he was just another peer.

His half of the project was finished faster than he anticipated it would, likely in part to your handiness with the search bar and library archives. The project, once put together, would be easily passible as an A. Maybe even an A+. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was over, and returned to his usual lunch routine…

At least, that’s what should have happened.

Even after the project was complete, Goro found himself coming to eat lunch with you. It was a little awkward the first time he sought you out during lunch with no particular agenda. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He always chose to spend his lunch alone, so why did he want to eat with you again? Perhaps it was intrigue… There was something off about you. Something that he couldn’t quite place, and he resigned himself to eat lunch with you and spend time until he figured out what it was.

‘It’s to hone my detective skills.’ He reasoned weakly with himself each time.

And you didn’t attempt to avoid him either. You had a little section on the rooftop, a part that wasn’t closed off to students yet was seldom populated, that you sat. Akechi joined you, and eating there just became a regular routine. This didn’t mean he would show his true self, however. He still kept up the facade, spilling his heart out about his justice and ideals, then waiting to see your inevitably underwhelming reaction. Often a shrug or a simple ‘cool’. It was like a game, trying to peak your interest. A game that he refused to believe he was losing.

Then, one day, with the strangest look in your eyes… you smiled. You smiled at him, and it actually caused the detective prince to pause with mild astonishment. The smile was so sincere and yet, so mysterious.

“Akechi… when am I going to get to meet you?” You asked.

The question rolled out like it was normal, and Goro couldn’t help but be confused. Meet him? They’d… already met. Several weeks prior. Was this a trick question?

“I… wasn’t aware we hadn’t.” He laughed, confusion evident. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Your smile grew a bit, and you shook your head. “I’ve become well acquainted with your public image. When am I going to meet you?”

For a moment, one could hear a pin drop. Goro froze, for the first time in a long time, appearing truly caught off guard, as the words sank in. How… how did you know? He never let his detective facade fall. At least… he thought he hadn’t. Had he? You were looking at him, both curious and unusually gentle.

You leaned back a bit, seeming thoughtful. “I guess I should rephrase that question. Will I get to meet you?”

Akechi swallowed and lied. “I’m… not sure I follow.”

The smile melted away into a soft frown, then to acceptance. “I guess not.”

The silence following this was incredibly awkward, as Goro tried to wrap his head around the fact that you’d seen through him so easily. It was more frightening than it should’ve been, and he began to wonder if spending time around you was a bad idea after all. His throat was dry, and yet he found himself speaking.

He could hardly believe his own words. “Maybe one day…”

[selenaurrr]

Lost Without You

REQUESTED: @puff822​ PAIRING: Matt Casey x Reader WARNING(S): None

—

‘Ambulance 61, person injured. 725 Grand Avenue.’

Sylvie tapped her fingertips on the black steering wheel as she drove down a couple of streets, “I’m going to guess some tourist ate it on one of those dockless scooters.”

“Hm, oh, wait. 725 Grand?” I sighed, “Ugh, that’s Scanlon. That’s a known Packers bar.” I lightly rolled my eyes. Great, just great.

“And it’s football Sunday.” Sylvie moaned, “Ugh, this gonna be ugly.” I exhaled, grabbing a hold of my black radio, “I better call for backup.”

“Ambulance 61 to main. Requesting Truck 81 for assistance.” I spoke, waiting for a reply back from dispatch, “Copy that.”

“Ugh, oh, god.” I muttered underneath my breath, as we the ambulance pulled up outside of the bar.

“Dispatch Truck 81 to your location.”

I climbed out of the passenger seat and quickly shut the door behind, grabbing a hold of medical bag, meanwhile trying to dodge around a few bystanders surrounding the bar’s door. “All right, people, make some room.” I said walking in front of Sylvie, “Come on, get out of the way.”

“Man, that’s too much crazy for me. I’m out of here.” 

I furrowed my eyebrows together slightly confused, but I have heard and seen worst things, I shook my head and continued to make my way towards the bar’s entrance, “All right, you guys move.”

I pushed up the door to see the barter, “Back there.” 

“He said he’s okay, but I’m like ‘No way man, you need help’.” She said moving over down the bar table to show us, “Hey guys. What happened?”I asked.

The young man slowly turned his back away from us revealing the dart that is impaling into his forehead, I gasped. 

“Is it that bad?” He asked, sounding worried now.

“It was an accident.” 

“Was it. Kevin, was it?”

“All right, guys, back up and give us some space.” I said moving pass them, “Kevin threw it at him.” 

“He told me to!” The man shouted upset now, worried about his friend.

“This point is one inch long at least.” Sylvie said holding onto a spare dart on the dart board, I shook my head in disbelief, “Oh, well, it’s in there all the way.”

“Oh, could you just take it out please?” The young man said, nervous.

“No, no, no, no, you need a trauma surgeon to remove that it looks like it pierced the frontal sinus, I just hope it didn’t extend into the brain.” I muttered holding onto his neck, “He put a lime on his head and he had me try to hit it like Robin Hood or whatever.” The other man was rambling on, freaking out on what he did to his friend.

“Okay, guys, give us some space, all right?” I asked, turning around to face him for being too close to us as we tried to work on his buddy. “We got to figure out how to cover this dart somehow, so it doesn’t get jostled in transport.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Sylvie said, before leaving for a brief minute or two.

“Just take it out, I’m begging you.” He bickered at me, “At the hospital, all right? We’ll get you there as quick as we can.”

I turned around to see Sylvie has brought back a mental cup, “Oh, that’s perfect, all right. Let’s get some tape...”

“I’m sorry. Ricky. I’m so sorry, man.” I felt his friend grab a hold of me, I tensed up, “Get off of her! Let her do her thing man!” His friend grabbed a hold him, pulling him back away from us. Not before colliding with a group of bystanders in the background, screams and shouting.

An all-out-brawl started to happen, “Hey, guys, guys, guys! Knock it off!” I yelled, backing away from the victim, trying to break up the fight between each and every person in the bar, Sylvie shielded herself in front of barter and the victim.

A blow to my head and I was out like a light.

“Hey, break it up, break it up!” Matt came rushing into the bar, pushing past people, trying his best to break up the brawl.

“Break it up!” He shouted, pinning people against the wall.

Otis came rushing behind him, he took a quick glance over towards Sylvie and the victim, he’s eyes widened, “Whoa.” 

“Back off.” Stella shouted, before getting clock in the jaw by a stranger.

Sylvie quickly jumped in to defend her, “Hey!”

“Hey, hey, I got it. I got. Your job’s over there.” Stella shouted getting back on her feet, Sylvie nodded her head, “Okay, okay, thanks.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no.” She mumbled as he pulled the dart out of his forehead, “Ow.” He groaned in pain, “Ricky!” His friend called out to him as he was rushed out of the bar.

I groaned as I was slowly coming around now, I opened my eyes, it took awhile to realize what was happening. My head was throbbing, I slowly gazed around the room to see the brawl slowly being broken apart, Matt came running over towards me, concerned written all over his face. He crouched down to my level, shielding me from the crowd of people in the background, “Stay behind me.”

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m good,” I shook my head, eyes locked onto his.

“Better get the stretcher.” Sylvie called, holding onto the unconscious man.

“Yep,” I whispered, breaking away from my trance. He held a hand out and I took it, helping me to my feet, “Thanks,” I shyly smiled.

Sylvie and I laid the victim down onto the stretcher, putting a breathing & respiratory equipment over his mouth and nose, so he could breath in the oxygen he was given. The ambulance came to a halt in front of Chicago Med hospital, I opened the back doors of the ambulance and pulled out the silver and yellow stretcher onto the gray cement; Sylvie grabbed a hold of the sides of stretcher and slowly pulled the stretcher closer to herself, as we brought the victim into the hospital building.

I sat in the passenger’s seat staring out of the window, “When you went down like that, I was worried...” 

I glanced over my shoulder, Sylvie and I locked eyes with one another; before she kept her focus on the road in front of her. "I'm okay, I swear." I spoke calmly, trying to assure her that I was fine. 

She pulled up the ambulance 61 into the firehouse, I hopped out shutting the door behind me, Sylvie held the doors wide open for the both of us; she disappeared into the common room where I decided to pay him a visit.

I walked pass a couple of the beds until I reached his officer quarters, I stood there barely unable to knock on his door, I got up the courage to lightly knocked onto his door, "Come on in." He said now fully looking up at me, I shut the door behind me and walked over to where he was sitting on his bed.

I plopped down onto his bed, Matt and I have been long time close friends ever since my first day when I met him, I was new on the job applying to be the new paramedic at the firehouse, just something between him and I connected right there, and he’s always there for me especially when I get wasted on most occasional nights, he’s always one phone call away. Just like I’m always there for him especially on his dark days or nights.

“Thank you for always saving me.” I sheepishly smiled, “I will always step in between you and something like that.” He said turning around in his office chair to face, “You've saved me like a million times before,” He said, licking the bottom of his lips, as he continued to smile. Butterflies roaming around my stomach.

“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

We held a hare gaze on one another unable to speak to each other. As I sit here, your name’s running through my head. All I can think of is you, all that you do, and the way you look at me. I feel as if I’m in a dream. The blue sky reminds me of your eyes, which gives me butterflies. You have brightened my life, with that handsome smile. If only he knew.

“I don’t want to get all schmaltzy or anything but the truth is I don’t know where I will be without you. I just want you to be safe. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” I sat there feeling my cheeks turn a shade of red, “God, you always make me blush so damn much.” I whispered getting smiled in returned back.

“I should have told you a long time ago..” I shyly said and then paused for a moment, “Ever since we met I felt myself crushing on you, honestly. ”

The room grew very silent, he sat on his office chair without saying a single word, his eyes were focused intently on me. Knots in my stomach, feeling very overwhelmed. “You know what this was a bad idea. Just forget whatever I said, I’ll save my embarrassment on my own.” I started to ramble off.

I stood up walking over towards his officer quarters door, he grabbed a hold of my arm and pulled me back, spinning me on my heels to face him. “All I want is your lips against mine right now.” He looked from my eyes to my lips back to my eyes before he leaned down to kiss my lips. I immediately relaxed. “Been wanting to do that for a while,” He whispered.

Crawling into his lap, I sigh with content, his arms folding around me, warmth filling me, both outside and in. Curled up in his loving embrace, my whole being relaxes, a busy mind quieting, all stress melts away. My head on his chest, I listened to his steady heartbeat, feel the rise and fall as he tranquility breathes, and everything feels safe. 

Gentle caresses brushes away aches, his strong hands reassuring, running up and down my back, as he places a soft kiss on my forehead. There is nowhere else I would rather be, his protective arms reminding me everything is okay, I would be lost without him.

[orianess]

Cliche prompts 3 Macdalton

So uh... my brain has been a black hole lately and filling prompts/anything that’s not irl work is just... taking a long time to get to. But I will get to them eventually.  —-

It’s been said that when death comes, you won’t feel it. The hand of death is numb and dark before you see the light. Jack’s always been ready for it, even if he’s spent a large majority of his life out running it.

So when he opens his eyes and finds only a shadowy world and human shaped figures along with a sensation of floating in cold, Jack figures his luck ran out. He’s about to buy the farm. He doesn’t know how or why but he hopes it was worth it. 

“....-ck, can you hear me? Jack?”

Someone is calling for him. The voice is far away but he knows who it is. He’d know that voice anywhere. Mac. His partner, his best friend. Here with him at the end. There’s no one he’d rather have here to see him shuffle off the mortal coil.

Jack is suddenly overwhelmed with the need to confess the truth to him, here in his last moments. And given that he won’t be around to deal with the fallout, he can’t think of a reason to not tell him. That’s what deathbed confessions are all about anyway right?

His voice is hoarse and broken when he finally manages to use it. “Mac...”

“That’s right buddy, I’m right here.” Mac promises next his ear. He wishes he could see him, but the dark seems to be winning and he fears he doesn’t have enough time.

“Mac...  you have to know... before I’m gone that I love you.”

“Jack what are you talking about?” Mac says, voice hushed and afraid. “You’re not going anywhere...”

Jack has just enough sensation to feel tears escape down his cheeks. “You don’t have to lie, I’m not afraid to die... but I couldn’t go without telling you just once... how much you mean to me. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you till now... love you so much man...”

“Jack...” Mac makes a soft choked sound under his breath. “Jack, listen to me, you’re not dying okay? You’re fine, I promise.”

Jack feels Mac’s hand brush against his cheek, wiping away the tears. “It doesn’t hurt, Mac... I can’t see anything. But I’m glad it’s you with me...”

There’s a click somewhere behind them and an explosion of light fills the background, his blurry vision can only just barely make out the shape of Mac’s golden hair silhouette beside him.

A female voice somewhere in the room asks, “how’s our boy doing?”

Mac answers, to Jack’s utter confusion, “he’s coming around but he’s confused. He seems to be having trouble seeing.”

There’s footsteps approaching before a warm hand lands at his temple. Then a droplet lands in both eyes, clearing the blurriness away.

“That should help his vision. I’ll let his Doc know he’s awake.” The woman reports and Jack blinks as Mac’s soft smile comes into focus.

“Hey big guy, you can see now right?” Mac asks gently, holding Jack’s hand and he stares at it like it’s a trick of the light. He glances down and sees a hospital blanket covering him up to his chest, his left hand casted up to the elbow.

“Mac?” Jack whispers and Mac leans in,  keeping Jack’s hand in his even as he presses  it to his cheek. “What happ’nd?”

“You’re alright, Jack. You’re in post-op. You’re not dying, just hopped up on the good stuff.”

Oh. Well shit. 

But before he can address the elephant he just put in the room Mac’s tender smile goes wide.

“That was some deathbed confession. But don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret. That’s what husbands are for right?” Mac promises, holding out his left hand to show where a dark band glimmers on his ring finger.

Jack can’t help but grin as he lays back into his bed. He’s not dying and he’s married to his best friend.  He’s the luckiest dude ever.

(sorry for the fake out but since I already did a sad one for these guys I decided to do a slightly cute one 😅)

[dontshootmespence]

Random Chance

Summary: Y/N yields to peer pressure and Spencer loses a bet. Did fate bring them together or was it random chance?

Words: 1,689

Warnings: Gross fluff.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo​ 2020! This fulfills my meet cute square.

This was the fifth outfit change.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You screamed, glancing into the mirror before ripping off your shirt and pants for a sixth outfit. “Speed dating? Fuck my life. This is peer pressure. You suck.”

Under pressure, filled with nervous tension, you tended to run your mouth, and right now Piper was at the opposing end of your razor sharp sword. But she still had a smile on her face. “You need to get out there and you won’t do it yourself, so I had to push you,” she laughed, pushing passed the mountain of packed boxes and pulling one of your favorite dresses out of the closet. 

“A dress? Really? For speed dating?”

Dating sucked. It was the most horrible thing ever. All you wanted was to fall into the perfect relationship and then cuddle on the couch. Was that so much to ask? 

Piper laughed and stood behind you, holding the dress over your body. “Yes, it’s not an evening gown or anything. And it’s you. Just because you’re going speed dating doesn’t mean the guys you meet shouldn’t see exactly who you are.”

As much of a pain in the ass as she was, Piper was still your bestie, since you were in diapers. And she wanted the best for you. She’d pulled out your Harry Potter dress, the one with the first chapter’s words written all over. “Pair that with your cute red flats and the guys will be falling over themselves to get to you and the ones that don’t are stupid.”

You snorted and stepped into the flats, taking yet another glance into the dreaded mirror. “You know you couldn’t have picked a worse time for me to go speed dating,” you said, finally content with your outfit. Within the week, you’d be moving and starting a new job at the local community college. “Next week, dude.”

“Life’s too short to wait,” she said, playfully smacking your butt. “Plus, at least it’s at that kitschy bookstore you love. Now go take a nice relaxing walk and breathe. You’ll be fine. I gotta go to work.”

“Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” you call, hearing the thud of the heavy apartment door close behind her.

After grabbing your red sweater, you headed down the stairs, locking the door behind you. The bookstore was only a few blocks away and it was a beautiful day out, so you decided to take advantage of the sunny weather.

A breeze brushes through your hair as you walk and the sun beats down on your skin. There are a few other people around, but mostly people are at work. You would be too if it weren’t for the whole “new job, new place, new life” kick you were on. Decided to take a few weeks off before starting your new job. 

The entrance to the Old Fox bookstore was as obnoxious as could be, at least when compared to the rest of the stores on the block. The door was painted a bright red, but it was somewhat worn by age. The store opened up during the 60s and it was still just as popular today.

Like the three bears, the store wasn’t a giant chain or a teeny tiny hole in the wall, it was just right. The walls were a muted turquoise, which you’d alway loved. Everyone seemed to think that neutral was the way to go but you’d always been a fan of in your face color - at least after your goth teen years. 

Noise filled the air - not normal for this place - it was always on quiet side, but given the event you weren’t surprised. Seemed to be an equal amount of men and women, which made you feel a little better, not wanting to be outnumbered.

Since there was still a little time to waste before everything started, you figured there wasn’t any harm in looking for another book or two...or five. One of the first things you planned to put up in your new apartment was this scratch-off list, kind of like a lottery ticket, the listed nearly 200 classics. You'd read a lot of them before, but there were still some that you hadn’t, so maybe you could find one and pick it up before the nausea-inducing speed dating began. 

After reading Good Omens, you’d been hankering for another Neil Gaiman book, so you slithered between the masses in the store toward the section in question. American Gods, Anansi Boys, Eternity’s Wheel, you weren’t sure which one to pick. 

All - all was a good choice, right?

The colorful spines of the books called out to you, another one of Gaiman’s works. Your hand crawled along the edges of the nearby books, your hand just brushing up against someone else’s as you reached for The Graveyard Book. “Oh, sorry,” you said, staring up into the face of a beautiful stranger. He was thin and tall with delicate features, but he had a sharp jaw and deep set hazel eyes that were complemented by wavy brown hair. “I’m apparently on a Gaiman binge. Have you read any of his stuff before?”

“Yea,” he replied, eyeing the stack of books already in your hand. “American Gods, Good Omens and Eternity’s Wheel. I tend to read textbooks most of the time, but I’ve been told I should delve into more fun reading, so-”

He cut himself off and took the book off the shelf, offering it to you. “You saw it first.” Aw, gallant, too. “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand. “What brings you here? You live around here?”

Spencer glanced toward the tables set up for speed dating. “No, actually I lost a bet to two friends of mine and if I lost I had to go speed dating. Can’t say I’m all that comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” you laughed. “My friend Piper peer pressured me into it. I don’t drink but somehow she got me to agree to this.”

The owner of the store gave a five minute warning that speed dating was about to start. “So how long will it take you to read those?” He shifted on the balls of his feet, probably nervous, which you understood. 

“Well, I have a few weeks off while I move apartments and start a new job, so these...probably four, five days.” You laughed, feeling every inch the nerd you were. “Been an avid reader since I was a kid. Why do you read textbooks though? Fiction is so much more fun.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute and I’m always trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. Helps with the work I do.”

“Which is?” He was cute and intriguing.

“I’m an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

And smart. Shit. There had to be something wrong with him. Dream guys like this didn’t grow on trees. “Impressive, Spencer. What’s your background in?”

He looked down at the ground, almost like he was embarrassed, speaking softly. “I have BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy, as well as PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. Really smart. Like stupid smart. “That’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” How could that not be amazing? “Why?”

“It’s just that people normally think I’m a freak for having so many.” 

You wanted to punch whoever made him feel that way. “Definitely not a freak, just insanely impressive considering you’re so young.” He couldn’t have been much older than you. Maybe five years at the most.

“I started college when I was 12.”

As the owner called out to start the most awkward dating experience known to man, you turned to Spencer. “Hey, would you maybe want to get out of here? Go grab a cup of coffee? I mean, we both had friends insist we come here, but we never said we actually had to go through with it.”

Tension fell from his shoulders, like he could finally be at ease. “I’d like that. I’m really not good at this whole date thing,” he said nervously. “Just a heads up.”

Both of you shuffled over to the register, so you could pay for your books. “Neither am I, don’t worry. I’d prefer to just magically be in a relationship and not have to work for it, you know?”

“Absolutely, so Y/N, what do you do for a living? What’s the new job?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, well not embarrassed, intimidated. “It’s definitely not as fancy as FBI profiler. I have my master’s degree in English literature. I’m going for a PhD too, but to pay for the half of my doctorate that scholarship won’t, I’m teaching. First, it was an online course through a University in New Hampshire where I’d travel occasionally, even though I live her, but now I got a job at the local community college.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. “What’s the focus on your thesis?”

So few people asked you that. Most people’s eyes glazed over when you talked about books. Everyone except your mom. “Analyzing Othello through the lends of racism as it relates to the Elizabethan period.”

After handing the cashier your money, you and Spencer walked out together, talking about your favorite Shakespeare plays, when he bumped into someone. A muscular, equally tall black guy. “Hey, kid. Funny meeting you here. Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling your end of the deal? You lose, you speed date?”

He was one of Spencer’s friends. That much was obvious. But Spencer looked 1001% done with his bullshit - whatever it was. “Y/N, this is my friend Derek Morgan. We work together at the FBI. Morgan, this is Y/N.”

“Well, hello, Y/N.” A charmer. 

“Good to meet you,” you replied on a laugh. “Technically, he didn’t go speed dating. Neither did I and I promised my friend Piper I would, but...he is leaving with a date.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand, a jolt of something awesome moving through you at his touch. “We’re going for a cup of coffee now actually.”

“Yea, so as you see, I’m the one busy with a woman right now.” Morgan seemed quite the ladies man and Spencer looked mighty proud of himself right now. “See you tomorrow at work?”

“See you tomorrow,” Morgan replied, a note of surprise in his voice. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

“You too. I sense we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

When you both walked away, you pulled The Graveyard Book out of your bag and handed it to Spencer. “You read this first. I think this date might go pretty well, but if you have this, then you have to return it to me and I’m guaranteed to see you again.”

Spencer smiled, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’ll have to thank Morgan for being a pain in my ass.”

“So, you lost a bet?”

“Yea, he bet I couldn’t go a day without spouting statistics and I lost. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Piper just peer pressured me. Guess I’ll have to thank her too.”

The strong, heady scent of coffee began to fill your nostrils as you approached the cafe. When he opened the door, he seemed to finally catch a glimpse of your dress. “Wait, is that the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on your dress?”

“Yup. I’m a Slytherin by the way.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t need a guarantee to see me again, as long as you want to, I think I’m smitten.”

Piper was going to get a big hug later. Maybe dinner. And lots of wine.

[iamjustyouraveragefander]

Can I request one where remus is pinning over Logan and Logan being perfectly fine on the outside but having a gay crisis on the inside because "feelings"until one day in the middle of a fight Roman accidentally yells about remus's crush and remus gets so embarrassed he sinks out almost crying and shit goes down from there 'till there's a confrontation where remus can't escape any longer from logan?

Ask, and ye shall receive!

Hope you don’t mind, but I also sprinkled in some background pining Roman as well!

Word Count: 3,217

It had started off small, the unnamed feeling Remus would get whenever he was around Logan.

He first noticed it a few months after he and Roman had separated. While Patton was focused on getting Roman settled in, Logan took Remus to Deceit and Virgil, asking them to keep an eye on the dark side of creativity. Not even a few minutes after the creative side’s stay, they discovered he didn’t have much control over his powers. Thus, resulting in Logan coming in to help draw up a place—with the help of Remus—where he could learn how to better handle his capabilities and ideas without constantly disturbing the others. It would have been rather lonely, spending most of his time there, had Logan and Deceit not made the occasional visit to check up on him.

“Okay, but think about this!” Remus exclaimed excitedly, one day in his given part of the mindscape, pacing back and fourth on his stage, the only light coming from a hole in the ceiling that was letting the sun shine on the dirty, dark theater room, “Bras,” he paused dramatically, turning to face Logan, who had seated himself in one of the front row chairs, notebook in hand, “For your butt!”

Logan raised an eyebrow at the obsertity of the statement, “Remus, why would your butt even need a bra?” he asked, jotting down various notes in his book.

“To make your booty pop!” the dark side replied, making a gesture with his hand, a wide grin on his face.

Logan raised his eyebrow a little higher, pausing his writing to fully look at Remus.

There was a beat of silence.

Remus huffed, crossing his arms and shooting a glare off to the side, “Oh, shut up, it’s a good idea!” he snapped.

“In theory,” the logical side offered, a small smile gracing his features, “I suppose it has some potential.”

The dark side’s voice caught in his throat at the smile. It was one of the first times Logan had ever shown any emotion, aside from mild curiosity, and Remus would be lying if he said the smile didn’t look breathtaking on him, “That suits you,” he quietly stated.

Logan blinked, “What does?” he asked, his smile disappearing back into it’s neutral look.

“Ah,” Remus nervously coughed into his fist, “Your smile,” he explained slowly, praying that Logan wouldn’t notice the sudden blush on his face, “It, uh… It looks… nice, on you.”

Another blink from Logan as he felt a sudden emotion he couldn’t name figuratively latch onto his heart, “Uh, well, thank you…” he quietly replied, the small smile returning, “I will… I will try and smile more often, then…”

Shortly after that, Remus had found himself thinking about the logical side more often, creating stories where the two would travel on adventures together, and occasionally acting them out in his theater when he was sure that no one was watching.

On very rare occasions, he would go into Logan’s mindscape and explore, or he would discover said side and strike up a conversation with him, talking about various ideas that were plaguing his mind.

It didn’t take long for a certain light side to notice the shift in atmosphere whenever the pair were in the same room. Roman knew right away that Remus had a crush on Logan, and Logan, well, he wasn’t so sure, if he was being honest. The logical side was a lot harder to read compared to the others, but he did have his suspicions.

One thing that frustrated the prince severely was neither of them acknowledging their strange relationship. In fact, the only time Roman could even get his brother to label his feelings towards Logan was by asking, and even then that was a whole mess and a half.

“He really is fascinating,” Remus hummed, watching Logan, discuss something with Deceit from a distance, his brother by his side, “I was surprised when he actually listened to my ideas willingly—hey, did you notice he has a nice smile?” the duke suddenly asked, a longing in his eyes that Roman had never seen in them before, “Because he does. It’s a lovely smile. Have you ever seen him smile?”

Roman had seen the logical side smile, and it was rather lovely, but his feelings about Logan aside, he turned to his brother, gently drumming his fingertips on the hilt of his sword, “Do you love him?”

“Er, w—what?” Remus couldnt help but stutter out in reply, turning his attention to the prince, his face going a shade of pink. He had long since acknowledged he enjoyed Logan’s company, but he never put a name on his feelings such as “like” or “love,” possibly out of his own fear of being rejected.

“Do you love him?” Roman repeated, despite knowing the answer.

Remus swallowed, turning his focus back to Logan, “I…” he trailed off, feeling his stomach churn, “No…” he lied.

Roman couldn’t help but smile softly, his gaze shifting back to Logan, “You’re secrets safe with me,” he replied simply.

“What secret?” Remus couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

Before the prince could reply, Logan had cut their conversation short, “Roman, we can head out! I’ve reached an agreement with Deceit!” he called to the other light side.

“Right, coming!” Roman quickly made his way over to Logan, wishing the two dark sides well. He noticed Logan do the same, only his gaze seemed to linger on Remus for several seconds before he actually turned to face the direction he was walking in.

“I think that went well,” Logan commented, “Hopefully Thomas will feel better about the situation, as well,” he continued, breifly glancing over the notebook he had scribbled down various things in.

Roman gave a small hum in reply, thinking over his words carefully, “Logan, what do you think of my brother?” he finally asked after a moment of thought. He knew it would be a horrible idea to ask Logan if he loved the dark side directly, especially since the logical side was… well… Logic, and logic didn’t mix well with emotions.

Logan flicked his gaze form his notes to the prince, raising an eyebrow curiously, “Uh, well…” he slowly began, “He’s very… odd, to say the least,” he paused, gaze thoughtful, “But, his idea’s are rather interesting, and he can be very fascinating to observe sometimes,” he explained, a faint smile resting on his face.

The prince blinked, ignoring the weight in his chest, “So, you like him?” his voice was a little quieter than before, as if the question was one he wasn’t sure he should have asked.

“I suppose so,” Logan quickly replied, his face going into that neutral look, “As I said, he is very interesting, and I don’t necessarily hate his company.”

There it is, Roman couldn’t help but think. Logan was showing no emotion, once again, and Roman silently wished he knew what was going through the teacher’s mind.

Do I like Remus? Logan couldnt help but wonder, Of course, I do enjoy his company, and he does make me smile, but that’s all. I don’t necessarily… love him… Logan cleared his throat, quickly picking up his pace, “We’d better hurry and let Thomas know about the arrangement,” he spoke hurriedly, trying to ignore the figurative weight that pressed down on him. No, he couldn’t love Remus… could he? And if he did, would Remus even feel the same way?

————

Several months had passed, and during those months, Remus was practically glued to Logan’s side, talking to him about a number of different things, showing him drawings he made, acting out plays for him. Logan didn’t seem to mind the company, occasionally showing Remus schedule’s he was working on, or read aloud to him.

The amount of time the pair spent together, began to worry Patton and Virgil, both fearing that Remus could have something sinister planned for the logical side.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Roman had reassured them, the three sides watching Logan and Remus converse from a distance.

“Seriously?” Virgil asked, shooting a glare at Roman, “We shouldn’t worry about your insane twin brother, who regularly attacks you and everyone else on a daily bases?”

“Virgil’s right,” Patton piped in, “We can’t just stand here and not worry about—”

Roman held up a hand to silence Patton, gesturing to the light and dark side, ignoring the way his throat tightened, “Look,” he stated.

Virgil and Patton complied, their eyes going wide at the sight of Logan, who was laughing, and even smiling, along with Remus.

“You don’t have to worry about them,” Roman muttered quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself, “They’re doing just fine.”

————

A few more months went by, and Remus and Logan still hadn’t brought up their feelings to the other.

Until one particular day, when Thomas was filming a video. Everything was going somewhat well, until Remus had showed up, causing Virgil and Patton to grow tense, and Roman to start a fight with his twin about ruining his scene.

“It was all going well until you showed up!” the prince snapped, shooting a hard glare at Remus.

“Oh, please, we all know you were doing horribly before I was even in the room, I mean, come on!” Remus began to mimic Roman’s actions he had been doing earlier, a grin on his face, “We all know you could do better than that!”

The argument was petty. Everyone in the room knew that. Remus was just trying to get under Roman’s skin, and vise versa. Logan would have spoken up, but wasn’t sure what he should say, and the two brothers were arguing so loud, he doubted they’d hear him even if he had spoken.

“Oh, yeah, well—” Roman stuttered out, mind searching for some type of retort, “At least—at least I can deal with my feelings! Unlike you!” Roman snapped, gesturing to Logan, “I mean, how hard is it to just tell Logan you love him?”

There was a beat of silence as the words spoken slowly sank into everyone in the room.

Patton and Virgil exchanged a discomforting look, Thomas kept his gaze on Roman and Remus, fearful of what was going to happen next, and Logan… well… Logan felt a very heavy weight that had been building up over many years lift off of him. He knew the dark side had liked him for quite a long time, but it felt relieving to hear Roman confirm his suspicions.

Remus swallowed, “You…” he trailed off doing his best to hold back the tears that were attempting to force their way out. He quickly sank out, no witty retort, no snide comment, just that single, broken word that left him.

Shit, Roman thought, he royally screwed up.

“What just happened…?” Thomas slowly asked, flicking his gaze between the four sides that still occupied the room.

“You’re brother is in love with Logan?” Virgil’s voice held a hint of disgust to it that caused Logan to give him a sideways glare that went unnoticed by the others.

Patton ran a hand through his hair, as if something in the back of his mind had just clicked in to place, “Oh my gosh, how did I not realize that sooner?” he exclaimed, “All of the signs were there, and I just ignored them!”

“But it’s Remus!” Virgil shifted his gaze to Patton, as if the moral side could shed some light on the subject, “How could he love any one?”

“Just because he’s a, quote, “Dark Side,” doesn’t mean he has the inability to love someone,” Logan finally cut in, gaining the attention of Virgil and Thomas.

Roman was still staring at the floor where his brother had once been, thoughts racing. He was such an idiot. He quickly glanced around the room to make sure no one was looking before he quickly left in search of Remus.

Patton was still listening to the conversation, but his mind was also thinking back to all of the times he’d seen Logan and Remus together. All the little signs he’d missed before, just because he was fearful of Remus doing harm to Logan.

“But, Logan, it’s Remus,” Thomas quietly replied, unsure of what else to say.

“And?” Logan huffed, crossing his arms, “Am I not capable of love either, because I’m Logic?” he asked, eyebrow raised, waiting for a retort from the others.

“Of course not!” Patton exclaimed excitedly, clasping his hands together, a wide smile spreading across his face, “You love Remus just as much as he loves you!” he chirped.

Logan blinked several times, swallowing hard, “Patton, don’t you think that’s a stretch?” he nervously asked, hands gripping at his tie, “I don’t… I don’t love Remus, I just—” he paused as if searching for the right words.

Patton offered Logan a reassuring smile, “Kiddo,” his voice was a little softer than before, “You do love him, and that’s okay!” he flicked his gaze between Virgil and Thomas, “We were all just too worried to notice your feelings in the first place,” he explained, focusing his attention back to Logan.

Virgil sighed in exasperation, “Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered, turning his attention to Logan, “I’m sorry, Logan, it’s just…” Virgil made a small gesture with his hand, “I’ve known Remus for a while, to the point where I didn’t see how much he had changed around you,” he tried, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie.

Logan smiled softly, “It’s alright, Virgil,” he replied, “I suppose I should have taken better account of your worries…”

“Uh, guys, I hate to interrupt,” Thomas cut in, shifting his gaze to the empty TV area, “But, has anyone seen Roman?”

————

“Remus!” Roman called out as he ran through the dark mindscape, nearly tripping over several up rooted trees as he made his way to the abandoned theater Remus had created for himself, “Remus, I’m sorry!” he felt his stomach twist with dread, “I’m a selfish jerk, and I shouldn’t have said what I did!”

He finally came to a stop in one of the open doorways of the theater, taking several deep breaths as he leaned against the doorframe, noticeably exhausted from running so fast.

“You know, it’s funny,” Remus’ quiet voice broke through the silence.

Roman looked up, immediately spotting the dark side seated on the edge of the stage, gaze fixed on the torn up, carpeted floor. He swallowed thickly, pushing himself up off the doorframe with his hand and slowly approching his twin, “What is?” he offered quietly, gaze soft.

“I’m not even mad at you,” the duke replied, turning his gaze to Roman and offering a pained smile, tears threatening to slip from his eyes.

There was a pause as the two brothers stared at each other, almost as if they were having a silent conversation, which ended in Remus making a small gesture towards the empty space beside him and Roman lifting himself up onto the stage, taking a seat next to Remus.

They sat in silence for several seconds.

“I’m not mad at you, because,” the dark side began, turning his focus from the floor to Roman, “At least now, I can stop fooling myself into thinking I have a chance with him,” his voice nearly broke. It just about tore Roman’s heart into pieces.

“No, that’s not true,” the light side reassured, placing a gentle hand on Remus’ shoulder, “He could still have the same feelings towards you as you do for him,” he smiled softly, “I mean, he might not be good with emotions, but—”

“He’s right!” Patton cut in.

Remus and Roman blinked, turning their attention to the sudden group of sides that had entered the theater.

Logan cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head nervously, “He is correct,” he replied in that forced state of neutrality, “I…” his gaze shifted between the other sides, almost as if he was embarrassed to say anything out loud.

“We’ll leave you two be,” Roman slowly spoke up, sliding down from his seat beside Remus and making his way towards the exit, Patton and Virgil trudging along behind him. That hadn’t gone far, making themselves comfortbalr a few feet by the door.

There was a beat of silence before Logan approched Remus, taking a seat in the place that Roman had previously been, “Roman is right,” he stated, his gaze fixed out onto the rows of seats, almost as if he was lost in thought, hands anxiously gripping at his tie, “I do… I do care for you a very great deal,” he explained, his gaze soft.

“Do you?” Remus found himself asking, as if he wanted reassurance that he wasn’t just dreaming this entire interaction, “Really?”

Logan gave a small hum in reply, taking a deep breath as he turning his attention to the dark side. He wanted to say the words that had been stuck in his throat ever since they started spending more and more time together, “I love you,” the words were spoken delicately as Logan gently took hold of Remus’ hand, staring into his eyes.

The world seemed to pause, as if it was trying to registere the words that had been spoken. Remus opened his mouth to reply, finding his throat closing up. He had to have been dreaming, right? There was no way Logan felt the same way towards him.

Logan smiled softly, grip tightening ever so slightly, “I love you, Remus,” he repeated, voice still quiet.

Remus couldn’t help the nervous laugh that left him at the statement, “I love you too,” he managed, gnawing on his bottom lip as the words settled into the air, blinking back tears that were ready to burst from his eyes.

“Just kiss already!” Roman shouted from in the doorway, causing both Logan and Remus to jump in surprise and shift their gaze to the prince, watching as Patton pulled him away from the door, snapping at him for ruining the moment and quickly apologizing, telling them to carry on with their conversation.

The light and dark side turned their attention back to each other, unable to contain their laughter. Remus quickly pulled Logan into a kiss, wrapping his arms around the light side’s wast. Logan returned the kiss, unable to stop the smile that rested on his face.

The group of light sides sighed in exhaustion, “Who knew getting people to confess their feelings would be this draining,” Roman muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.

Patton nodded in agreement, “It was fun though,” he replied quietly, stretching out his arms.

“It’s about damn time,” Deceit’s voice cut through the conversation, causing the side’s to nearly squeak in surprise at his sudden appearance beside them.

“Wait a second, you knew?” Virgil asked, eyeing Deceit with mild surprise.

“Of course I didn’t, what do you take me for? An intellectual?” he replied, an amused smile on his face. His gaze breifly rested on Roman, offering him a sympathetic look.

Roman replied with a brief, forced smile before quickly turning his gaze off to the side, his smile deflating, “Let’s give them some privacy,” he quietly spoke up, starting his walk out of the mindscape, the other’s trailing behind him, all talking quietly amongst themselves.

Intrulogical Tag List:

@lostonehero | @aleiimm |

If anyone would like to be added to the list, feel free to let me know!

[polyamorous-mysme]

Really fucked up that i got 3 asks ten days ago and literally didn’t get notified about them until 1am this morning. fucking bullshit. 

anyway did y’all know in korea christmas is more akin to valentines day than western xmas. i didn’t but.

Jumin x V x Zen

“Have the documents for the bistro deal been dealt with yet?” the Chairman’s voice crackled through the speakerphone, the sound of papers rustling in the background.

“Yes, sir. They’ll be posted first thing in the morning. Jaehee will be taking care of it on her way home tonight.

“Tonight? Don’t she and that lady friend of hers have dinner plans tonight? I know Christmas Eve is less chaotic than Christmas, after all, I figured Jaehee to be the type to prefer that.”

“Yes, they have a reservation at eight. My gift to the two of them this year.” Jumin knew, in fact, that both had devised separate proposal plans for the evening, to the pure delight and entertainment of the other RFA members who’d agreed in secret not to let either of them know about the other’s respective plan despite numerous chat rooms helping them plan speeches and dinner and other details. Though, Jumin didn’t think his father needed to be privy to that piece of information. 

“At somewhere nice, I hope. That woman deserves a nice night out, after the last few months.”

The interest Jumin’s father had in Jaehee wasn’t new. He still held hope that Jumin would follow in his footsteps, even down to sleeping with his secretary, though he’d never say so out loud.

“And you, I hope. You have Christmas plans?”

“Yes, dinner with friends tonight, as well. And a small gathering afterwards with the RFA. I should probably get going myself. My car is waiting.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Merry Christmas, Jumin.”

“And to you as well. Merry Christmas.”

He hung up the phone with one hand, the other holding his half-tied tie’s position around his collar. It was a simple royal blue, small silver polka-dots. Zen liked it best for the season. He said it looked like snow. He conceded to a small, corner-mouthed smile at the memory, where Zen’s slender fingers grazed the front of the tie before loosening it to remove it from Jumin’s neck, leaning in for a kiss as he did so. His other hand had reached around Jumin’s waist, soft hand gripping it lightly to tug himself closer. 

That was last Christmas. The three of them -- Jumin, V, and Zen -- hadn’t made real plans due to the storm that had taken the power in the penthouse for the night. They’d stayed in, eating the cake Jumin’s chef had prepared the night before and sipping mulled wine in the candlelight. Despite the lack of grand planning, it had been quite romantic -- perhaps not as romantic as a double proposal, but it remained one of Jumin’s favorite evenings in living memory. 

He slipped the three envelopes with Saeyoung, Saeran, and Yoosung’s gifts in the pocket of his suit jacket. The three of them were expected at the cafe after dinner for the Christmas party to exchange gifts and listen to carolers in the plaza. Obviously, congratulations were in order for the future engagement, but V and Zen were in charge of that. 

Even now, only half an hour from their dinner reservations, Jumin’s heart ached at the thought of them. He longed for them every moment they were out of his sight, craved their conversation and laughter every second he wasn’t listening to it. Christmas held a special place in their relationship, after all, as it was three years ago tomorrow that the three had made their relationship official and come clean to the other members of the RFA. Two years since the first real disastrous fight of the relationship. A year since the favorite night of Jumin’s life.

Three years of the most love and worship Jumin had ever given anybody, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

V, of course, was early. He was seated on a bench outside the restaurant, listening to the bustling sounds of the city, feeling the soft, cold flakes of snow fall on his upturned cheeks, completely at peace. While not particularly religious himself anymore, Christmas remained his favorite. He loved the spring and summer, of course, but he took the winter months as a chance to reset, to reevaluate what he wanted from the next year to come. And, of course, the holiday itself served as a reminder of how much his life had changed over the last few years. 

Though he’d be terrified to say it in as many words, that Christmas three years ago, and the two men he’d shared it with, genuinely saved his life. He’d been quietly setting all of his affairs in order for months, ready to simply disappear with the end of the year, no plans to return. No escape plan. He’d listed Yoosung and Jumin as the trustees to most of his assets, with instructions to the RFA on what to do with the rest. He’d written a letter to Saeyoung to be delivered posthumously, as well, with explanations and plans and last known whereabouts. 

He really hadn’t expected to make it to the new year, until that Christmas. Until the explosion of vulnerability that had been building for months finally forced him to face his issues head-on, to ask for help. Even now, he could be quite the locked box, but it was Zen and Jumin that made him feel safe enough to entrust the key to someone else rather than hide it away in yet another box. 

“Well, hey there, stranger. You out here all by yourself?” a musical voice asked, interrupting V’s dramatic reflection. 

It took quite a few moments for V’s vision to focus onto the character, as focused as it could get, anyway. He knew who it was before that, of course, Zen’s sarcasm was uniquely recognizable, even in a crowded stadium.

“Actually,” V started, stretching his neck, “I’m waiting for a very handsome man to sweep me off my feet. Maybe you’ve seen him around. He’s the most beautiful man on the planet, about six feet tall. A bit self-absorbed, but his musical talent is unparalleled.” V could sense the smirk on Zen’s face, feel the air stir as he stood a little taller with the praise. “His name is Jumin Han. Have you seen him?”

He heard Zen’s melodramatic gasp at the insult, and stood to embrace him, wrapping his arms around Zen’s neck and giving him a small kiss to the cheek. “Really, though, have you seen Jumin? I expected him here first. You, after all, are chronically late to anything remotely important.”

“He’s right here, you two. Sorry, there was an accident on the road.”

At the sound of Jumin’s voice, V broke away from Zen to turn and smile. Jumin, quite frankly, sounded exhausted. It always worried V, when he had big projects and deals to navigate at work that took up months of free time and proper sleep, but Jumin wasted no time in moving closer to the other two men and giving them an entirely appropriate embrace. Fair enough, of course, one could never be sure of what opportunist was around to gather the gossip on three fairly well-known men.

“An accident? I’d blame it on my astounding beauty and rockin’ good looks, but according to V here, that’s your area of expertise now,” Zen huffed. V might not be able to make out the finer details in sight anymore, but it didn’t take eyes to tell Zen was gearing up for the eyeroll of a century.

“Well, Astounding Beauties, I have been sitting out in the cold and wet for far too long waiting on your fashionably late selves. Shall we go inside?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zen truly did admire Jumin’s taste. In most things, at least, it was impeccable. Fine dining was definitely no exception. When Jumin made reservations, they rarely ate at the same place twice, at least not together, yet somehow the experience never failed to exceed expectations. 

Their real plans didn’t fall through, so much as got transferred. When Jumin heard Jaehee and MC had planned their proposals on Christmas, he immediately called the other restaurant to alter the reservation as a gift to them. Zen never would have expected it from the Jumin of three or four years ago, or perhaps even the Jumin before this year, but lately Jumin seemed to have melted into quite the romantic. He insisted that a proposal was much more worthy of the experience, and he had no shortage of strings to pull to find another. It gave Zen an odd mix of pride, awe, and sentimental mush to see how much effort Jumin had personally put into the night, for both V and Zen, and Jaehee and MC. 

Zen never put much stock into Christmas before. His family would always attend a Christmas service together growing up, and he’d done it the years he lived alone, but he’d never done the big romance aspect of it before.

Well, not until V and Jumin, at least. That Christmas three years ago, it was like someone had given him glasses, corrected his vision. The whole ordeal sharpened into focus, and Zen finally understood why it was considered such a romantic holiday, why his parents would go out to dinner and come home flushed and laughing and more in love than he’d ever seen them. They’d give him and his brother a to-go box with two perfect pieces of Christmas cake, even though they’d never get home until hours after their usual bedtime, and they’d all sit in the kitchen laughing and making jokes long into the night. Now, those nights no longer seemed like a slightly better than average night, they were full of love and care Zen hadn’t seen or experienced anywhere else, until three years ago.

Last year, they hadn’t gone out or exchanged gifts or anything, but it was still the best night of Zen’s life. He hadn’t said it at the time, but the simple pleasure of sipping a warm drink, sitting in the candlelight talking and laughing and telling stories had meant more to him than any fancy dinner or gift. They spent the night completely present with each other, no distractions, no work, as though they’d found themselves on their own little planet, completely untethered to Earth and its day-to-day, and had fallen asleep in a tangled mess on the floor as the fire slowly died. 

He’d have settled to have done it again this year, but Jumin felt as though he needed to make up for the sorry excuse for dinner he’d made last year. That, of course, and the party afterwards. Zen was looking forward to hearing the story of Jaehee and MC’s accidentally joint proposals, drinking champagne, and seeing Yoosung and the twins for the first time in a while. 

Mostly, though, it was the look V had given him while cracking his joke earlier. It was the way Jumin’s entire body seemed to have been relieved of ten tons of weight as soon as he laid his eyes on the two of them together. V’s small peck still burned on his cheek, just like it was the first and not the thousandth. At the end of the day, Zen didn’t care if it was in a crowded restaurant, a room full of friends, or on the thick carpet on Jumin’s hardwood floors in front of the fire while the world around them was buried in snow, Zen was most at peace, most loved and loving, most humbled and worshiped in the presence of the two men he’d bore his soul to three years ago, nearly to the date. 

“Zen, are you coming or not?” V’s voice called from the door of the restaurant. His lips were red, cheeks flushed from the cold, blue eyes wild with anticipation and the remnants of laughter. Zen could see Jumin waiting inside through the door, his dark eyes peering around V’s head to look at him, one smug rich boy eyebrow cocked and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. 

“No, the two of you don’t even need me for my looks anymore. What use could I possibly have for you inside?” he mocked, though his feet had already begun walking, one arm outstretched to grab the door from V. catching their collective reflection in the door window as he did so.

Well, if nothing else, he could agree that Jumin had impeccable taste.

[welcometophu]

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 14

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 14

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It’s been almost two weeks since Nikita and Alaric disappeared. As peaceful as it is in her dorm room, it’s still strange knowing that Nikita isn’t just with Heather. It’s stranger still how life just goes on and only a few people seem truly worried about the fact that several people—including a professor—have just disappeared.

Even Pels feels like she should be more worried than she is. There’s a part of her that just expects that everything will be fine eventually. She’ll turn around and Nikita will be there, and Coven will happen again, and Dad will push her across campus to join the meetings.

But there is also a tiny part of her that is scared that it can’t be that simple. That there is something she’s ignoring.

“Go check on Rory,” Dad suggests as she climbs the stairs after dinner. “I haven’t seen him down in the dining hall.”

“I’m sure he’s doing fine,” Pels mutters. “He’s got Kit. Besides. It’s not like I can do anything anyway.”

“You underestimate the healing power of company.” Dad blocks the way when she tries to get to her room, nudging her down the hall. She pushes back, but he’s stronger, and she realizes that once again, she’s going where he wants, despite herself.

She makes her way down the hall to the corner room that Alaric and Rory share, and raps on the door.

“It’s unlocked,” Rory calls out, so she nudges it open.

Rory sits on the floor with his back against his dresser, knees drawn up and his guitar across his lap. His toe just barely touches Kit’s rounded back, where Kit’s hunched over, drawing something on the pad across his knees. Serina sits not far away, staring down at a textbook on the floor and doing nothing.

“I just—” Pels almost steps out as soon as she steps in, but Dad blocks her way. “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

Rory shifts, and as soon as the pressure of his foot leaves Kit’s back, Kit looks up, blinking. “Oh. Hi.”

Serina lifts a hand to wiggle her fingers, then picks up the textbook to move it to her lap, staring down at it still.

“Not really,” Rory says. “But I’m panicking less.” He slides his hand down Kit’s back before pushing himself to stand. His hair falls forward, almost covering his face as he looks around. “I can offer you space on the floor or our one desk chair to sit on.”

“Floor’s easier if you want to study with us.” Serina’s voice is flatter than usual, almost listless. “But I’m guessing you aren’t into Chemistry.”

“Not my usual thing, no.” Pels is used to feeling awkward, but the tension in this room is so thick it’s troubling to step further in. She takes the chair Rory indicates, sitting on the edge while Rory sinks back to sit closer to Kit than before, one hand across his back. “I just—I got to thinking at dinner and I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“My family came down,” Rory says. The sound of Kit’s pencil is louder now, faster as Rory leans close to him. Pels isn’t sure Kit’s even aware of his surroundings anymore.

“Your family?” Pels asks.

“My extended family, from Vermont. My Dad grew up in a commune of Mages.” Rory lifts his right hand as he speaks. “They went over Pawel’s house with a fine tooth comb, trying to figure out what they were even doing. I know they were looking into issues with the Shadows, trying to decide what to do next to heal the Split.”

That is entirely Greek to Pels, but she nods along anyway like she doesn’t feel like she’s coming into the middle of a conversation and entirely lacking in antecedents.

“They’re positive no one died,” Rory says. There’s a soft sound from Serina at that. “They think someone might have Traveled, and given that they had three people capable of it, that’s plausible.”

“Mac Teleports. Carolyn Travels through her cards. And Matteson’s a Shadow,” Serina mumbles, tracing something in her book. “So they think they went somewhere. But they still aren’t answering their phones, or talking to us, or coming home, so we don’t know where.”

“But they’re safe,” Rory says firmly. “We’re almost positive that wherever they are, they’re safe.”

“Oh.” Pels is pretty sure she’s supposed to say something sympathetic here, but she has no idea what. “I’m… glad they’re safe. It still seems weird that they haven’t—”

“Right?” Serina looks up, and for just a moment she looks almost like her usual self, a bright light in her eyes. “They should be here. Carolyn should just come tumbling out of wherever and Travel them back. It should be easy. I can’t focus. I need Carolyn to be okay.”

“She’s okay,” Kit mumbles. “I’d know if she wasn’t.”

“That’s good news at least.” Pels stands up, hesitating. “If you hear something else, let me know? I don’t miss the epic fights, but I do worry about Nikita. And everyone else.”

Dad nudges her, and she stumbles forward. She shoots a look over her shoulder, not sure what he’s getting at, and Dad nods at Rory like there’s something she should be doing.

“What?” Pels hisses.

Rory looks confused.

Dad wraps his arms around Pels in a quick hug, and she gets it then. “Oh. Um.” She opens her arms in offering.

Kit ignores her, huffing slightly as Rory rises. Serina looks back at her book. But Rory leans down to wrap his arms around her, his head against the top of hers. He’s skinny enough that even small as she is and reaching up as she has to, she can get her arms around him and try to hug him tight. And he holds on just as tightly in return, clinging to her like she’s a very small teddy bear for several breaths before he finally steps back.

“It’s all going to be okay,” he says, like she’s the one needing reassurance, so she nods to give that back to him.

“If I hear anything from Nikita I’ll let you know,” She says. Dad lets her back up until she’s at the door, and she slips out into the hall, closing the door after herself. There’s a soft strum of a guitar from the inside as she goes.

“Any other errands you want me to run?” Pels murmurs. Dad’s already at the other end of the hall, turning the corner. She hurries after him, expecting to find him heading down the stairs, but instead he’s leaning against the open doorway into the common area, watching as Pat packs things into bags and monitors popcorn in the microwave.

Pat glances over as Pels steps next to Dad, and grins. “Hey, you’re just in time.” He grabs one of the bags off the counter, handing it to her before turning back just in time to turn off the microwave. He juggles the hot bag of popcorn between two hands before dropping it into a canvas bag, and then picking that and the last bag up. “Come on. Trish said she’d bring the drinks.”

Pels glances into the bag as she heads down the stairs. Rolls. Marshmallows. Graham crackers. A box of vanilla wafers. “And we’re bringing food?”

Pat turns as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her. “I appreciate the help carrying things, and yes, you will be fed. That is, as long as you’re interested in hot dogs, popcorn, or s’mores.”

“How weirdly will you look at me if I admit I have never eaten a s’more?” Pels asks. She passes by him as he stares at her. “I’m not joking. It’s not like I’ve ever been camping. Or gone to a lot of bonfires. It’s just one of those things steeped in social mystery that I’ve missed out on.”

“We are going to fix that.” Pat raises a bag, calling out to Jackson as he emerges from a different door further down Townhouse Row.

“Condiments,” Jackson says. “Trish is bringing the drinks, right?”

“Sera said Trish is bringing the drinks,” Pat agrees. “I don’t know if that means alcohol or not.” He casts a sideways glance at Pels. “Let me guess—”

“You would be right,” she admits. “Because there is honestly nothing more sad than drinking alone. Besides. We only had wine in the house, and it wasn’t even good wine.”

She trails after them, Jackson seeming to move his long legs in slow motion to allow Pat to keep up, but Pels still struggles. Pat might claim to be short, but he’s at least a half foot taller than Pels, and it makes a difference when they’re on the move.

They veer off in a direction Pels isn’t familiar with. “The theater is over this way, right?” she asks.

“The theater is on this corner of campus, yes,” Pat waves a hand like he’s giving a tour. “We’re passing by the Arts buildings now. The main auditorium is in there, but the smaller club theater, entirely maintained by students, is the low building coming up on the left. Sera did tech for the fall production, but she’s been too busy this spring. Where we’re going are the gardens beyond that.”

“Gardens?”

Pat starts walking backwards. “Didn’t you walk through the gardens on your tour before you applied? Or during Accepted Students’ Day?”

Pels opens her mouth, then closes it again, lips pressed together in a rueful expression. “How many things do I have to say I never did before you really start looking down on me?” she asks quietly. “I just applied based on reputation, and hoped I’d get in. My Mom came here, although she didn’t get her degree here; she left when she was pregnant with me. I knew it was a place where Talent is accepted, so I figured that people might think I’m weird, but I wouldn’t end up having to leave because of it. I just thought I could be…” She searches for the word and comes up empty. When she looks over, Dad doesn’t offer anything to help. “Background noise,” Pels mumbles, because that’s the closest she can get to what she meant to say.

Pat stops dead. “You should never have to be a side character in your own movie,” he says solemnly. “You aren’t background noise, Pels. You should be loud, and—”

“Please don’t say proud and out because it really sounds like that’s where you’re going with this,” Pels tries to cut him off, but it only makes him laugh.

“I know what it’s like to be quiet,” Pat tells her. He runs back to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her forward as he starts walking again. Jackson moves along beside them, chuckling softly as Pat keeps talking. “I decided that I was never going to be quiet again. I thought that if nobody saw me, everything would work out, and that did not go according to plan.”

“You do have loudest on the floor nailed down,” Pels says dryly.

Pat puts his free hand over his heart. “I’m wounded that you believe that my music is somehow louder than the legendary sound of thunderclaps from your own room.”

“I’m not involved with those,” Pels protests. “You can’t blame me for Nikita and Jennifer. The music is yours, though.”

“Sometimes it’s mine,” Jackson says solemnly.

“Hey, there they are!” Pat’s arm drops away from Pels so he can hurry forward to where Trish, TJ, and Sera are waiting by a wrought iron arch between two head-high pine bushes. “Booze or soda, Trish?”

“Both.” She pats the soft cooler that lies slung across her body by a long strap. “Not a lot though, but my momma raised me right to bring something along to any party.” She looks over as Pels slows down, uncertain about yet another new person. “Pels, right?”

“Pels, right,” Pat confirms. “And Pels, these are the gardens. They don’t have any kind of a fancy name, and according to some people they aren’t nearly as good as the ones at VIT—”

“Look, I’ve been in the gardens at VIT and they live up to their reputation,” TJ talks over him. “They set aside a ten acre plot for these incredible, meticulously fashioned gardens, with hundreds of different kinds of plant life. The trails are fantastic and well-maintained. The brook has three separate places to cross. This is—”

“Like someone let an ancient football field fall to Chaos, and left a fire pit in the middle,” Trish finishes his sentence with a soft laugh. “But we’ve got a fire pit, so who cares?”

“And I’ve reserved it.” TJ brandishes a lighter. “One of the perks of being an RA. So let’s go.”

As soon as Pels ducks under the arch, the tree cover overhead almost blocks out the last rays of the late afternoon sun. The temperature drops in the near darkness, and she has to pull out her phone to use the flashlight to light her way. Even with the dim light that filters through, she trips over a tree root at one point, righting herself as Dad keeps her from faceplanting on the path.

“Thanks,” she murmurs under her breath, thankful that no one seems to have noticed.

The path winds through the trees, eventually opening into a small field that has several benches, along with a large fire pit and a pile of wood nearby. There are a few stones around the edges outside the pit which seem to be there to sit on, and Pat drops his bags next to one and uses it like a table as he starts pulling things out.

“Get building,” he instructs, gesturing at the fire.

TJ looks at him. “You think I know how to build a fire? I’m a city boy, and we do not build fires on the rooftop in New York, thanks.”

“Give me the lighter.” Trish slips it into her pocket, then starts sorting through the wood in the pile. She directs Sera to bring her different pieces, building a stack of wood according to some algorithm Pels does not understand at all.

Pels sits on one of the benches, trying stay out of the way, and also trying to ignore the fact that Dad is sitting next to her, feet on the bench as he perches on the back. He leans down, elbows on his knees. “It’s even a school night, and here you are,” he says. “Your sister would love to hear about this.”

He’s probably right.

Pels waits until the fire is going, flames licking into the air above the pit. Pat spears hotdogs onto metal skewers and hands them out; Jackson puts three on his skewer and holds them in the flames to cook them all at once.

Pat motions for Pels to come closer. “Eat dinner,” he says, offering a skewered dog.

Pels fishes her phone out of her pocket. “Hang on. Can we, uh—” She gestures from the phone to Pat to herself. “For my sister. She’ll never believe me otherwise.”

“Hey, everyone, selfie time!” Pat calls out.

Sera leans over his back, arms on either side of him, her cheek pressed to his. “Oh?”

They all gather around, Pels at the front. When she can’t quite get everyone in frame, Jackson grabs her phone and holds it out and above them to snap several pictures as they make faces at the camera. By the time she’s done, she can easily pick a few to send to Cheyenne. Then she has to add more contacts to her phone and start a brand new group text for the group so she can send the full set of pictures to everyone.

Are you at a cookout? Cheyenne asks.

Illicit underage drinking, hotdogs, and apparently s’mores are on the menu, Pels replies. As Dad informs me, I’m being a real person tonight, acting normal and everything. Not that he’s said all that explicitly, but she’s gotten very good at reading his expressions over the years.

Good for you! Oh. Dad’s calling. I need to go down for dinner.

Cheyenne cuts off with that; even though Pels texts her again, there are no replies.

“I hope everything’s okay with Peter,” she mutters. “I just—I need to get her out of there.” But she can’t. Cheyenne’s just a kid, and Mom’s still the adult, and if that leaves Cheyenne walking on eggshells around Peter, Pels can’t fix that.

Not to mention that Cheyenne is trying to protect Pels and won’t let her do anything.

“Are you going to cook your hotdog?” Sera asks. Her gaze is focused somewhere else, Pels has no idea on what, but it’s not Pels or the fire. Sera’s eyes move, as if she’s tracking something Pels can’t see.

“Oh. Yeah.” Pels shoves her phone back in her pocket and forgets about it for a moment, as TJ helps her find the best spot to heat her hotdog without burning it to a crisp. As soon as she thinks it’s done, Pat is standing next to her with a bun held out, and gesturing to the condiments.

It’s just a hotdog, but it’s weirdly good because of the fire and the company. It’s too hot, a little smoky, and she did burn one side, but it’s still better than anything else she can remember recently. Even those little mini dogs from The Dog Shack.

Pat opens the marshmallows while Pels is still trying to finish her hotdog. He lays out different options on one stone—plain and flavored marshmallows, different kinds of chocolate and peanut butter cups, and two different kinds of graham crackers or vanilla wafers. “We believe in variety,” he says solemnly. “There is no one true way to make a s’more.”

“But if it’s your first, you should go with traditional,” Jackson says, holding a hand up to keep Pat back as he grabs a marshmallow and skewers it. “C’mon, Pels, let’s do this. Then you can try options.”

“All the options,” Pat encourages.

Trish starts laughing. “She’ll be high on sugar.”

“Which does not taste good with beer.” Sera has a can open in her hand, and she makes a face as she alternates bites of crisped marshmallows with swallows from the can. “This is really gross. Who thought of this? Pat, you’re an idiot.”

“I am brilliant, because this is a perfect way to spend a Thursday night,” Pat declares. He might be on his third or fourth s’more; Pels has lost count. She also hasn’t seen him with a beer yet.

Jackson makes Pels feel even smaller than usual, and she readily gives up her skewer to him rather than leaning over the fire to toast the marshmallow herself. She gathers up chocolate and graham crackers as directed, holding them when he places the marshmallow on top, then covering it.

“You seriously haven’t had one before,” he asks.

Pels is well aware of what they are. She’s seen them on shows, she’s seen cereals based on the taste. She once toasted a marshmallow over the flame of a gas stove, until Peter found her trying to clean up the sticky, dripping burnt sugar mess. They’d moved a week later, losing a security deposit because Dad had blown out every light in the kitchen along with one window.

“I seriously have not had one before,” she says solemnly.

She bites into it and immediately regrets it because the molten hot sugar hasn’t cooled enough to eat. She makes a low noise and blows on it hard, but then takes another bite right away because it’s just so good. She realizes she grabbed dark chocolate, but that’s wonderful against the sweetness of the marshmallow. There’s a crisp earthiness to the outer roasted shell of the marshmallow, and the chocolate melts against it, spreading over the graham cracker. Everything crumbles, and she ends up with sticky fingers and a too-full mouth, needing to chew and swallow fast as a low laugh bubbles up. “That’s good,” she says around the remaining mouthful.

Pat shoves a wrapped peanut butter cup in her hand. “Now make another one with this,” he orders, and Pels hastens to do exactly that.

After four s’mores, she’s absolutely positive that she’s had too many. She’s full of energy, her skin itching with the need to get up and do something. Or maybe that’s being surrounded by people, all of whom are talking and shouting over each other, and seemingly unbothered by the way she just observes. They include her without forcing her to speak, and it’s strangely welcome to be able to just be here on the sidelines.

“Yeah, a little. I want to have some new material before I hit the road at the end of May,” Trish says. She’s sitting with her back against one of the large stones, between Sera’s legs. Sera combs her fingers through Trish’s hair, idly braiding it, then combing it free again while looking at something else in the distance.

Pels isn’t sure what the start of that conversation is, then Trish starts singing.

“Whatever I do, wherever I go, I’ll travel the world, to come home to you,” Trish sings. “It’s nowhere near done yet. I’m trying for that feel of being on the road, but knowing you’ve got an anchor to come back to.” She leans her head back, looking up at Sera. “It’s nice knowing there’s always someone there for you.” Her voice is a little slower than Pels remembers, the southern accent a bit thicker.

“We should’ve had you bring the guitar,” Pat says. “You and Jackson on guitar, some of you with good voices, the rest of us just yelling out music because it’s fun.”

“No guitar doesn’t mean no campfire songs.” Jackson’s on the ground as well, leaning back, one shoulder pressed against Pat’s. He gestures, and TJ ends up on the ground next to him, as Jackson loops one arm over his shoulder. Jackson whispers something to TJ, and they both start belting out a song that Pels recognizes as one of Rory’s.

Pat joins in, along with Trish, and Sera jerks to a halt, blinking as she looks down at Trish. Her brow furrows, fingers caught in her hair.

Trish reaches up, touching Sera’s cheek as she grins and keeps singing.

Sera looks over at Pels, brow still furrowed. “We should record this.”

Pels can barely hear her over Pat’s off-key rendition of the song. TJ and Trish are nice to listen to, and Jackson isn’t half bad, but Pat can’t carry a tune to save his life.

Sera continues to look between Trish and TJ, her brow furrowed. Pels wonders if she is recording it, capturing it to whatever hard drive lurks inside her brain.

Maybe an external recording would be nice, too.

Pels gets her phone out and kneels on the ground so she can get them all in frame. They move from one song into the next almost as if it’s planned, and Pels manages to capture that one in full. She stops the recording as Jackson falls back, dragging TJ and Pat with him.

“Thirsty now,” Jackson complains, holding one hand up. Trish puts a can in it, and laughs when Jackson realizes that he can’t lie down and drink at the same time.

“Can I share that video with Rory?” Pels asks.

“It is adorable that you ask permission,” Pat says. “I vote yes.”

“I definitely say yes,” Dad murmurs. “Look at you, sending something to amuse a friend in need.”

Pels waves her hand in Dad’s direction, as if flicking away a mosquito. She sends a quick message to Rory with the video, then decides to send another to Cheyenne saying, Yes, I’m having fun tonight. She’s a little surprised to realize that she hasn’t had a text since Cheyenne said she was going down for dinner, so she adds, You okay? and sends that as well.

She gets back a picture of Cheyenne’s face, barely lit by her desk lamp in a dim room. I’m fine. Just buried in homework. I get to see Dr. Smalls tomorrow. Don’t worry.

It’s an interesting combination of things to say, and really isn’t likely to make Pels worry less.

If anything happened, you’d tell me, right?

She feels awkward sending even that much, like maybe Peter will see Cheyenne’s phone. She doesn’t want to say the word Talent, or Telekinesis at all. She definitely doesn’t want to refer to Peter himself.

I’m okay, seriously. Don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow. Promise.

Pels supposes she has to accept that, even if it’s hard to just let it go.

TJ points up from where he still lies back on the ground, his feet warmed by the fire. Jackson’s sitting up between him and Pat, drinking his beer. Sera’s returned to whatever she was focused on before, but her feet are drawn up cross-legged on the stone, and Trish is stoking the fire.

“If you look up, the sky is clear enough to see the stars,” TJ says. “And planets. That’s Jupiter, right there. It’s crystal clear tonight. Saturn will be, too, but it hasn’t risen yet.”

Trish lowers herself to the ground next to TJ and lies back, raising her own hand and letting TJ adjust it. “Oh. There. I see it now. Hey, aren’t you an Arts major?”

“My mom loved Astronomy. Which, maybe it’s a funny hobby for a dancer, but she used to say how we’re all made of stardust, and that’s how some of us become stars,” TJ says softly. “I think she liked the wordplay, since she was a star on stage. We used to talk about how dance was meant to show our starlight, and I still think of that every time I dance.”

“It’s a pretty image,” Jackson agrees. He sets aside his empty beer and lies back, while Pat pushes himself up one elbow.

“Come on,” Pat says, and Pels isn’t sure if he’s talking to her or Sera. “Come look at the stars.”

Sera meets Pels’s gaze, and for a moment she has a feeling that they might be on the same wavelength. Then Sera heaves a long sigh, tucking dark hair behind an ear studded with piercings. “Fine,” Sera says. As she approaches the group, TJ rolls closer to Jackson, and Sera drops into the space offered, between TJ and Trish.

It looks uncomfortable, being so close.

Pels carefully picks her way around to the other side of Pat and lowers herself to the ground. Her feet are almost too warm, as close to the fire as they are. She wiggles her toes, seeing the fire burning merrily just beyond them, then when Pat nudges her, she looks up to see the stars spread overhead in the clear sky.

“It’s beautiful,” she admits.

“Peaceful,” Pat says. “It’s easy to lie here and just forget about everything else, right?”

Maybe for him. As soon as he says that, thoughts flood in and Pels can’t pick which one to follow first. Nikita’s still missing. She’s intensely confused about watching people interact. Why is Sera petting Trish? Why is TJ snuggling Jackson one second and Sera the next? He’s now on his side with his back to Jackson, holding Sera’s hand as he guides her to see different constellations.

Is this how this is supposed to work?

“I can hear you thinking and you haven’t even had anything to drink,” Dad murmurs, and Pels does her damnedest not to jump at the way he’s crouching next to her, leaning in far too close. “I think they’re all a bit drunk.”

They might be. Pels won’t judge, and honestly, she wasn’t paying that close of attention to who drank how much.

“Just relax for a little while,” Dad says, patting her head.

Pels closes her eyes, exhaling as she tries to let her body relax into the ground. She does it again for good measure, and this time it seems to work, and the voices become background noise as she floats in a sea of darkness and a strange mix of warmth at her toes and the top of her head chilled in the night air.

“I don’t have to understand everything, right?” she whispers. Dad doesn’t respond, but there’s movement next to her, like Pat might have heard her.

“I don’t think it’s possible to understand everything,” Pat murmurs softly. “I think all we can do is try to understand the things that affect us most, and move forward from there.”

It seems like valid advice. Maybe Pels doesn’t need to understand how other people relate to each other. Someday, though, she’s going to have to figure out how other people relate to her.

Someday.

Tonight can be about the s’mores and the stars.

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Home is Where the Heart is

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-_-_-_-

When Marinette came back downstairs, it was time for dinner. She had put on the clothes Alfred had given her, though he did raise an eyebrow at how she wore it.

He had given her a button-down, probably one of his own, as well as a pair of slacks. The button-down had been way too big on her, continuing to slip down her shoulders. So, being the little creative that Marinette was, she just undid a few buttons so that the neckline was big enough to fit around her chest, pulled her arms out of the sleeves and tied the sleeves behind her back like a bow so the shirt couldn't fall off. The slacks, which Marinette could only assume had once been owned by the sons, were too big at her waist. For that, Marinette just asked Alfred for a belt, rolled up the pant legs, and wore it high-waisted.

Bruce and the sons seemed surprised by it too, but Marinette chose to ignore it and pretend she didn't notice.

When everyone was seated around the dinner table, the atmosphere became tense and awkward, and even if Marinette knew it was incredibly rude, she wished she could have just eaten in her room or in the kitchen. It was almost suffocating to sit there, with the questioning eyes of the Wayne sons looking at her.

"So," Bruce seemed to be the first to try and fix the atmosphere. "Where are you from, Marinette?"

Marinette snapped her head up, looking at Bruce with wide-eyes before looking anywhere but at him.

"I'm uh, I'm from Paris," She said meekly, cringing inwardly at the sound. "This is my first time in Gotham."

"It's a beautiful city," Bruce said in a futile attempt to get her to say more. Marinette just nodded.

Awkward silence filled the room again, and Marinette could only wish for the world to swallow her whole. This was becoming more and more of a disaster by the minute, and she had the feeling she would be lucky if she didn't get kicked out by the end of the night.

"Have you taken any self-defense lessons before?" Marinette sharply turned her head in the direction of the voice, Jason if Marinette remembered their introductions correctly, barely noticing the slight wince he had on his face, which quickly disappeared.

Awkwardly, Marinette coughed.

"Umm, my grandpa taught me a few things, I guess..." She trailed off, not being able to say anything else about it.

"What do your parents do?" Bruce asked.

At this question, Marinette outwardly winced, which caught the attention of everyone at the table.

"They... they were bakers," She whispered.

A heavy silence took over the table. No one said a word, and Marinette tried to desperately hold back tears, stubbornly keeping her head down. 

After a few more minutes of unbearable silence, Marinette rose from her seat, nodding to Alfred. "The food was wonderful, but I think I'm gonna head to bed now," She bowed to Bruce, not wanting to look at him. "Thank you for having me, and thank you for the food."

With that, Marinette headed back to her temporary room.

-

The room was silent after Marinette left.

Alfred seemed to look at the entire family in disappointment, save for Bruce who had seemed to make a genuine effort in making the girl feel comfortable. The rest, however, were more disappointing, specifically Jason.

"What was that?" Bruce asked after the silence had become suffocating. He looked at Jason in particular, referring to the question about self-defense.

"Wha- me?! You were the one to ask her about her parents!" Jason accused.

"I didn't know," Bruce defended.

"Aren't you the one to tell us that ignorance isn't an excuse?" Jason threw back, and Bruce flustered.

"Enough," Alfred cut them off before things could get more out of hand. A fight between the family would not help the situation. "I expect you to treat Marinette better come tomorrow. From what I've deduced, she has just lost the last of her family, you interrogating her won't help the situation."

They looked down at the table in shame, all save for Damian, who simply scoffed and turned up his nose.

"None of us even know the girl personally," Damian said. "Why should we trust her?"

Alfred let out a sigh. He had expected the youngest Wayne to be against the young Marinette staying, he just had hope that he would keep the hostility back until they had gotten to know her more.

"I don't expect you to trust her, I expect you to respect her, like you would any other guest," said Alfred.

"Uh, since when did Baby Bird respect anyone?" Jason asked, receiving a swift glare from the boy in question. Bruce let out a tired sigh.

"Just don't drive her away until she and Alfred have done what they have to," Bruce said. "It worries me that she's here in Gotham alone, even if she is the girl you've run into."

It was the lack of answers and information that bugged the family the most. It was one thing to let someone stay over, it was another thing if that person was a stranger that they knew nothing about.

"Tim, look into the girl. We know more about her now, you should be able to find something," Bruce paused, probably expecting Alfred to protest, but when he didn't, Bruce continued. "Dick, I want you to get as much information out of her as you can without her getting suspicious," Bruce turned his attention to Jason and Damian, who still seemed to be arguing. "And you two," They looked at Bruce, having clearly not listened to what was said before. "Try not to scare her away."

Jason and Damian shared a look before looking back at Bruce.

"Not making any promises," They said in unison. 

-

"I'm sorry Bugaboo..." Chat said, walking over to Hawkmoth, to Gabriel Agreste. "But I want my mother back."

"Chat, no!" Ladybug yelled as Chat nodded to his father, before turning and leveling a glare at the red-clad heroine.

"Good, Adrien," Gabriel said, and for the first time since Marinette had met the man, he smiled proudly at his son. "Now we just need Ladybug's earrings."

The eyes of Chat Noir, Hawkmoth, and Mayura all turned to her.

Marinette woke with a start, her breathing heavy and her sight blurry. The world was going in and out of focus and her breathing became more and more uncontrolled and erratic. Marinette tried to focus, rubbing her fingers against the silky covers to ground herself.

Seven seconds in, eleven seconds out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

When her breathing was controlled, she let out a tired sigh, collapsing in the bed. Tikki was fast asleep on the pillow beside her, though her expression was tight. Marinette reached her hand down, trying to smooth out Tikki's concerned expression.

She looked at the clock on the nightstand. Three AM.

Alfred had said that she was welcome to go into the kitchen at any time, and at the moment, a cup of tea sounded lovely.

Slowly and quietly, she made her way out of the bed, shivering as the cold air hit her skin, biting her bare shoulders. Alfred had found a tank top and some pants she could use for sleep. Wrapping her hair ribbons around her wrist, Marinette unlocked her door, and started trekking down the halls towards the kitchen.

She was glad to say that the manor was a lot less scary inside than it was outside. Warmer, but maybe that was because of the family that lived here. She didn't really get a good chance to gauge how close the family actually was.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she realized that she had no idea where any of the mugs were and let out a sigh, before filling and turning on the kettle.

Marinette started to look through the different cabinets until she finally found the mugs, letting out a small and quiet woohoo in victory. When she closed the cabinet, she was met with the curious eyes of... Tim? Was his name Tim? She almost dropped the mug by the sight of a person suddenly there.

When she realized it was only one of the family members, she relaxed a little, but she remained tense as his eyes stayed on her.

"I, uh, I couldn't sleep," She spoke up, voice quiet. "I thought I'd make some tea."

Tim nodded, before walking behind her and getting a mug himself. He looked tired, even to Marinette, and she didn't even know the man.

Instead of staring like a creep, Marinette snapped out of her thoughts and looked for the tea, trying to remember which cabinet Alfred had opened when they were in the kitchen earlier. When she found it, she let out another victory hum, before she remembered that Tim was there.

Her head snapped in his direction, and much to her dismay, he looked amused. Choosing to ignore him, she focused on making her tea instead, faintly noting that Tim was making coffee at three in the morning.

Deciding that she would drink the tea in the kitchen before heading to bed, Marinette sat down, not looking in Tim's direction. The sound of the chair opposite hers made Marinette look up, and she was surprised to see Tim looking at her questioningly.

"Mind if I take a seat?" Rather than giving him a no, Marinette just shook her head, not wanting to speak.

They sat in silence, but it was a surprisingly comfortable silence compared to what Marinette had expected to happen, which was a remake of the earlier dinner.

"I'm sorry, by the way. About dinner," Tim said apologetically, as if reading her mind, and Marinette could hardly believe her ears.

"Wh- no, no, there's nothing to apologize for, I'm a stranger who's kind of intruding on your home, and you don't know me, or why I'm here and-"

"Hey," He cut her off before Marinette could spiral more and more into her rambling. "It's fine. You probably didn't expect to stay here either, did you?"

She shook her again.

It was quiet again after that, Tim taking out a laptop and started typing away, Marinette letting the clacking seep into the background as she sketched, occasionally looking up at Tim when he would let out an annoyed grumble.

"You look tired," She noted faintly after having looked up again, finally noticing the black bags under his eyes.

"That's because I am," He replied. "But I need to figure this out."

Marinette let out a hum of understanding, before going back to sketching.

There were times where being tired simply wasn't an excuse to not finish  something. But, she thought as she looked at him through her eyelashes, working the way that he was, could end up having consequences. Knowing that she could possibly be stepping way out of line, Marinette took in a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak again.

"But is doing what you're doing now any better?" She asked. "You don't even seem aware of your surroundings anymore. Whatever you do end up figuring out will probably not make sense to you once the sun is rising. It will essentially be worthless."

She thought back to akumas that she had fought while on the brink of sleep, how it took her much longer than normal to beat them, how a lot more civilians got needlessly hurt because of it.

"You can't take care of anything if you don't take care of yourself first."

Marinette didn't stay behind to see his reaction, just politely bowed to him before picking up her sketchbook and pencil, heading back to her room.

-_-_-_-

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