#close enough. welcome back sweet tooth (that makes no sense forget i said that)

[rbvcdeluxe]

i don’t know how to explain it but he’s sparkly. like, no other word for it. jus. sparkly. like. look at that pose. so sparkly. he’s sparkly. he’s acting sparkly. using sparkly to explain it makes no sense that’s why it makes sense. sparkly.

[loveisnotadagger]

Love Is Healing - Chapter Five

Chapter 5/?

The next day Arianna focused on healing Loki's burns since she hadn't been able to the night before. Arianna knew that Frigga and Thor had to leave that day, so she let them stay in the room with her as she worked. Plus, she didn't want to be alone with Loki. He had gotten under her skin the night before and she was still a little irritated with him.

Loki had been right about one thing, however, and that was that she hadn't been able to draw power from the Tesseract the night before because she'd been too tired. She had since slept and was using it fine now.

She worked on Loki for a few hours before leaving him, leaving the tower to go out and see how much destruction had actually been done.

"Oh my God," she said as she stepped out of the building and into the world outside.

She hadn't really seen everything the day before. There were buildings still smoking from yesterday, and there were piles of rubble on the ground from the buildings and the streets having been hit. Seeing as this wasn't a residential area, most of the buildings were businesses and restaurants. It hadn't lowered the death count or the amount of people that had been hurt.

Police were still out, so she wondered if they were still searching the ruins for victims.

"Let's go," Natasha said from behind her. "Tony has a helicopter waiting for us. We'll go to the closest hospital and work our way out."

They had to cross the street and use the helipad there because the one on Tony's tower had been destroyed. As they walked Arianna began to feel as if she were in a movie about the end of the world. The apocalypse had come to Manhattan.

She felt like crying, but tears were for victims and people who had time to cry. Arianna, however, had a job to do.

"We've got clearance, right? No roadblocks?"

"We should be good." ----------

When all was said and done, the injured were numbered in the hundreds, as were the dead. Arianna healed in a logical, systematic way, starting with the most injured and ending with the least.

She spent about two hours each day with Loki and by the end of the week his burns and lacerations were completely healed. The only injury he had left was his broken ribs.

She brought him meals each day – breakfast, lunch, and dinner – and he was now able to eat solid food. She noticed he had quite the sweet tooth when she brought him some ice cream and a small piece of pie for dessert once. He's asked for more and had neglected his dinner.

It made sense when she found out that Asgard didn't really have any sweets. The sweetest thing he'd ever had was fruit, so she hoped the extra sugar didn't make Loki sick.

On the day Fury was supposed to come and retrieve Loki Arianna brought Loki pancakes for breakfast. He didn't know what they were, but he enjoyed them. Arianna had basically drowned them in syrup. Loki was able to eat only one, but Arianna ate the rest.

"Those were mine," he said, though Arianna could tell he really didn't mind.

"I made them," she reminded him.

"They were quite delicious."

"Thank you.

"So . . . Fury is supposed to come today. I'm not sure exactly what that means. He'll probably take you away and lock you up. I don't think he'll put you with other people, so you'll be safe at least."

"Or they might just torture me some more.," Loki said quietly. "Even mortal I have much information that could be useful."

"Then don't let them know."

Arianna didn't know why it made her almost want to cry at the thought of Loki being hurt further, but it did and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself.

"Pretend you have memory loss if you have to, but don't let them know you know anything that they don't unless you intend to tell them."

Arianna was under no delusions of thinking SHIELD was all good. It was a government agency and, therefore, could get away with a lot of things nobody should be allowed to do. They would torture him if they found need of it.

"Would you like to go outside? If you don't today, you may not be able to for a while."

Loki considered for a moment before smiling weakly. "That would be nice." ---------- Loki didn't know what he had expected, but being allowed to go out of the building without any restraints wasn't it. He hadn't expected the other Avengers to let Arianna go out alone with him either, but there they were.

They'd just stepped out of Stark Tower and onto the sidewalk, and Loki suddenly wanted to go back inside. Things outside were horrible. Buildings had been destroyed and roads had been turned to rubble. The costs of the war he'd brought upon this city . . .

He really shouldn't have left the tower. What if someone recognized him? They would probably try to kill him. Try and fail. He knew Arianna would never allow harm to come to him while under her watch.

"This isn't what I want you to see," she said. "But we need to cross the street to get to the helipad."

"We're going to fly?"

"For a little bit. Low enough so you can see things. I don't know if you should be walking around outside."

Loki couldn't help the relief he felt at Arianna's suggestion. He shouldn't walk around outside.

Once they had reached the helipad and the helicopter and were in the air, Loki felt a freedom he hadn't felt for a long time. He'd learned to fly when he was just a boy – not a helicopter, of course, but they did have machines that could fly in Asgard.

Arianna was silent for the most part until they had been in the air for a while. She didn't even seem to be enjoying the view, and what could be seen now was beautiful.

"May I ask what is bothering you?" he asked.

"I hate this," she said immediately. "This . . . us giving you up to Fury. I mean, no, you're definitely not the most upstanding citizen, but you were pushed into this, pushed into coming here and trying to take over. You would've been tortured if you hadn't. Most people would've done the same as you have."

Loki stared at her. Arianna had this way about her that made Loki feel as if he was cared about. His heart craved it and rejected it at the same time. If he was being honest with himself, Loki knew he craved affection from someone who could love him for what he was. He was nowhere near as bad now that Thanos wasn't playing with his mind, but he was far from what a normal person would consider good.

Arianna could accept him as he was, but he also had to admit that such open affection wasn't completely welcome. Feelings got in the way of other things.

Besides, right that instant he was feeling only gratitude. This girl had done more for him in a week than many had done in his entire lifetime.

His thankfulness wasn't misplaced. ---------- Fury was already at Stark Tower when Loki and Arianna got back. Arianna came to a halt and she felt Loki run into her before he stopped as well. He'd barely touched her back and she barely moved.

Fury stood between two agents, both of whom had a gun. Tony was there, as were the other Avengers – minus Thor, who, along with Frigga, had left days before taking the Tesseract with them.

"Are the guns really necessary?" Arianna asked. "He's in no shape to put up a fight."

"The guns aren't for him," Fury said, firm but also somewhat uncertain. "It's to ensure that you don't put up a fight."

"Me?"

Arianna was honestly confused about this. She wasn't a threat to anyone.

"Yes. My superiors are not happy about you siding with the man that attacked this city. Consider this a warning. You were dangerously close to treason."

"I was doing what I knew to be right."

"Not to mention, she'd promised Loki's mother that she would take responsibility for his healing," Tony said. "Who knows what would've happened had she refused?"

"Indeed," Fury replied. "I wasn't finished. Agent Grace is a valuable asset to this team. One I don't wish to lose. The Council and I agreed that she could very well help the Asgardian acclimate himself to our ways."

"What?"

"In exchange for information Loki can remain free. He'll be under constant surveillance, of course. Agents Barton and Romanoff will be watching him. Everyone will remain here, and –"

Tony interrupted. "I think everyone keeps forgetting that this is my place."

Fury ignored Tony's words. "If you are amenable," he directed at Arianna, "I will alert the Council and things can proceed as usual."

Arianna looked at Natasha and Clint. "Guys? Are you willing to give up time to do this?"

Arianna already knew her answer was yes, but it wouldn't matter unless the others went for it as well.

Natasha agreed, but Arianna knew it was only because Fury had asked it of her and not because she had any real desire to do so. Clint agreed because Natasha had agreed.

"Tony?"

Arianna turned to him now. This was his home. He could turn them all out at any time and Arianna wouldn't blame him.

"You guys haven't been too much of a nuisance," Tony quipped. "You can stay. But no touching my stuff."

Arianna grinned. "Seeing as to how I don't know how to use most of your stuff, that won't be a problem."

She then looked at Loki, who had been strangely silent throughout the entire exchange, only to find that he'd wrapped his arms around himself and was staring suspiciously at Fury and the two agents with him.

"Loki?" She touched his arm gently. If he'd withdrawn into himself, she didn't want to alarm him. "What's wrong?"

"Why?" he asked. "Why not lock me up?"

"Information," Fury answered. "As long as you cooperate . . ."

Arianna tensed, as did Loki, though each had a different reason for becoming tense. Arianna was angry but not surprised that the people she worked with would stoop to threats to get what they wanted. She was also furious that Fury and his superiors were no better than the monster named Thanos.

Loki had tensed because of the threat itself. It had reminded him of the words Thanos had said about him failing to conquer Midgard and failing to bring Thanos the Tesseract. There would be pain. He was in the same situation now with another enemy.

"Loki, just say yes and you can stay," Arianna said. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Okay," he said. "I accept the arrangement." ---------- That night Arianna made plans with Tony to have someone get her things from her apartment in Washington D.C. and to have them brought to the tower. She also needed to break her lease, which she was going to get Fury to take care of since it was his fault she had to relocate in the first place.

She talked Tony into giving Loki an actual room, which really just meant that Loki would be able to have more than just the bed and closet space that he had at the moment. He would eventually be able to have things in there.

Loki still had the room next to hers, which she didn't really mind. He actually was fairly harmless at the moment. She could probably do more damage than he could right now.

It was true that she had healed him almost completely, but he still wasn't at a hundred percent energy-wise.

That first night, Loki caught her before she could make her way into her own room.

"Agent Grace?"

His voice stopped her. He'd never said her name before, had never even shown that he'd thought to remember her name, but here he was using her name with what could only be described as respect.

"Yes, Loki?"

She turned to him. He was standing in his doorway, his posture a little slouched due to his still injured ribs. He didn't have any hostility in his face or eyes, so she assumed it was safe to approach him. When she reached him he grabbed her hand, which she hadn't expected at all, but he was being gentle and careful so she didn't pull away.

When he set his lips upon the back of her hand for a few brief seconds she froze. Heat traveled up her neck and settled upon her cheeks. Loki obviously noticed because he smirked slightly before lowering her hand back to her side.

She would have been angry, but she couldn't see a hint of an ulterior motive in Loki, and she would've felt it from the skin-on-skin contact if he'd had a negative reason for kissing her hand.

"Thank you," he said. "For everything you've done for me. For what you're still doing. I don't quite understand why you're doing it, but I don't think I have to. My mother said I should befriend you because you have a good heart. I do believe she was right."

Arianna had no clue what she was supposed to say to any of this. No one had said such things to her before without wanting something in return. What did one do in a situation like this?

"Um . . . thank you?" She sounded unsure to her own ears, so she had no idea what Loki would think. She told herself she didn't care.

"There's no need to be nervous. It's just a thank you."

Loki gave a small but genuine smile, and Arianna answered with her own.

"Well, you're welcome," she said sincerely. "And you can call me Arianna. Good night, Loki."

"Good night . . . Arianna."

@smallangryandpink, @purplekitten30

[chocoluckchipz]

A Soulmate for Christmas - 4

< Previous

Marinette rushed through the hallways to the kitchen. She’d been absent for far too long. Hopefully, Maman hadn’t sent out a search party to find her yet. Sometimes, she worried too much.

Not this time, apparently. When Marinette finally returned to the kitchen, Sabine was giving her work to another server with a smile on her face. "Take these next, dear.”

"Oh. Coconut. I love those. May I steal one?" 

Marinette froze. That... was not a server.

Adrien gave her mother the most killer set of puppy eyes she’d ever seen, picking the tray up. His jacket was gone, leaving him sporting only a shirt and a vest, just like all the other male servers at the party. Only his were of much better quality. 

Sabine offered him a macaroon from her board. "Take this one and leave the arranged ones for the guests." Her gaze finally caught Marinette. "Sweetheart. There you are. I was starting to worry."

"I got caught up with something. I’m sorry, Maman. I’ll get right to it." Marinette walked closer, looking at Adrien. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping." He shoved the macaron into his mouth and chewed. "Your mother was looking for you, and since I’m pretty sure it’s my fault you were missing, I thought it was only fair for me to help out."

"Thanks, but I’m here now. You can go."

"As you wish." The tray in his hands, Adrien turned to the exit and was gone before Marinette could object. 

“Such a nice young man,” Sabine said as soon as they were left alone. “We’d better think about how we can thank him. He’s been helping me for the last fifteen minutes. Can you imagine? Just walked in, asked about you, and offered to help. I’ll leave him some macarons. He seems to have a sweet tooth. Speaking of which… I think the next batch is done. Where did I put those oven mittens?" 

Marinette nibbled on her lip. How much had he said? Maman knew about her soulmate, but she didn’t seem to realize that he was Adrien. How did she even not recognize he was Adrien Agreste, the boy whose photos had been plastered all over Marinette’s room for ages?

"Did… he tell you anything about himself?"

"Just that he’s your friend,” Sabine answered, taking the pastries out of the oven. “Why? Is there anything—" 

A loud thud echoed through the room as the baking sheet her mother was just taking out hit the ground. Sabine pushed the young girl who was working beside her away from a pot of hot, steaming liquid that was falling sideways. The girl stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Sabine wasn't as fortunate. She tried to dodge but was a moment too late as the boiling liquid splashed all over her hands, scalding the skin.

"Maman!" Marinette rushed to the woman. 

“I’m so sorry,” the girl almost cried from the side. “I didn’t mean to… I don't know how it slipped. I—”

Marinette didn't listen, rushing her mother to the nearest sink. She turned the tap on, made sure the water was cool, and put Sabine’s reddening hands under the stream. Her mother sighed with relief. The girl she saved quickly got to cleaning as she continued to apologize. Sabine tried to play it down, insisting it wasn’t a big deal and she would be back to working in no time. Yet a few minutes later, her skin started to blister.

“You’re going home, Maman. This needs to be treated.”

“Marinette, I can’t,” Sabine spoke quietly. “We have a contract to honour…"

"I’ll deal with it. You’re going home. You can’t work like that."

"But—"

"No objections. I’m calling someone right now to take you home. I’ll finish this on my own."

"What happened?" Adrien materialized by her side. One look at her mother’s hands and he was pulling out his cellphone. “My driver can take her straight to a hospital.”

Sabine tried to protest but neither of them listened.

“It doesn't look that bad, but maybe you’re right. Taking extra precaution wouldn't hurt.”

“It never does. I'll tell him to stay with her and drive her home after. If she needs any prescriptions, he’ll take care of that too.”

And there he was. That caring man Kagami and Chloe had told her about was shining through, not hesitating to help others, even if that meant sacrificing his own comfort for those who needed help.

“Okay.” He put his device away. “Gorilla will be by the rear entrance in a few minutes. Let’s wrap her hands and get her there.” 

Before Marinette could concentrate on what to do, Adrien found a pair of clean kitchen towels and soaked them in cool water. They wrapped them around Sabine’s hands and headed to the appointed place. Five minutes later, the largest man Marinette had ever seen was driving her mother away.

“She’ll be fine,” Adrien spoke, standing right behind her. “Gorilla will keep us updated on what's happening.”

She couldn't even raise her eyes to look at him. How could he be so kind to her after the way she treated him just now? Marinette clutched her hands together, whispering instead, “Thank you.”

"No worries,” Adrien replied, hesitantly reaching for her shoulder. A few gentle pats for reassurance, and he withdrew. “I believe we have a job to do. Shall we get to it, my Lady? I’m almost out of macarons to serve.”

She turned around, arching her eyebrow. Not that she didn't like the nickname, but they haven't even talked yet. When did she become his Lady? What was up with that cocky, smouldering look on his face, and why were there crumbs all over his vest?

"You’d have macarons to serve if you stopped eating them." She pointed to the evidence.

"But they are delicious."

"They are for guests."

"And I am one."

"Then why are you here, parading as help?"

He leaned closer, their noses almost touching as he grinned. "Because my Lady needs help, and as her cat, I cannot refuse."

That arrogant smirk! She both loved and hated it. Wanted to smack him and kiss those lips of his. He was so much nicer in her imagination. His friends described him as a saint. Not this annoying, cocky dork!

"Don’t get in my way, or you’re out." She turned around and stomped to their bakery station in the kitchen. There was too much work still to do. Marinette wasn’t even sure where to start. Thankfully, the girl had cleaned the mess. Perhaps, Marinette should start with seeing what ingredients they still have to figure out what to make. Wasn't there a list Maman made? Where did it go? 

A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. Adrien leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Close your eyes."

"I don’t have time for this."

"I know, but trust me. Close your eyes. Please."

She grumbled but obliged him. The quicker she did whatever it was he wanted, the faster she could continue. If only his touch and closeness didn’t send her heart into overdrive…

"Now, breathe in. Deep and slow."

She did, oxygen filling every part of her lungs.

"Breathe out. Slowly."

She let it all out and followed Adrien’s instructions a few more times until he tenderly kissed the crown of her head. "Now, let’s do this. You bake and assemble. I serve. And afterwards, perhaps, you’ll give me a chance to explain everything."

She opened her eyes, exhaustion and the chaos in her mind somewhat subdued. "You don’t give up, do you?"

"I’ve waited for far too many years to let a simple misunderstanding stand in my way." 

***

"I think this is the last of it," Marinette stuffed the last few mixing bowls in the trunk of her car. "Thank you… for everything. I know it’s cliché, but I couldn’t have done this without you."

"Perhaps, you’ll let me explain the situation as a reward for all my hard work?"

His cellphone rang. Adrien glanced at the screen and refused the call. "It’s Chloe. I’ll call her back. So, my reward?"

His phone rang again, Adrien refused the call once more and looked at Marinette. "Please? It won’t take long."

"Your friends—"

The pestering sound split the space between them for the third time.

Marinette smiled at him."Take it." 

"I don’t want—"

"I’ll wait. I promise. Take it."

He pressed the button and put the speaker on, the familiar voice of Chloe Bourgeois filling the space. "Adrinkins, you’d better have a good explanation for hanging up on me."

"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now," Adrien said. "Do you mind if I call you back in a bit?"

"Okay, fine. But just so you know, while you were prowling about, we put on a show, and Gami’s living with me now."

"I’ve been officially disowned," Kagami deadpanned. "You may congratulate me now."

"Welcome to the club?" Adrien chuckled. "I was hoping she would be more reasonable."

"She’ll come around eventually… maybe," Kagami said. "She thinks it’s one of those childish desires of mine, and I’ll come to my senses soon enough."

"But you two are soulmates? You have the marks to prove it."

"Soulmate marks or not, I’m not what Tomoe Tsurugi considers ‘best’ for their family," Chloe answered. "And I’m sure I don’t have to explain that woman’s obsession with ‘sacrificing in the family’s name’ to you. Oh! Before I forget. You were adorable as a waiter, Adrinkins. I’ve snapped a few pictures. Will post to our group chat later."

"Sure. Is that all? Can I go now?"

"Tell him about Marinette," Kagami whispered. "About our conversation."

"Oh, right," Chloe grumbled. "We told your lady-love everything. About Kagami and you and me and all the fake-ness of your engagement and non-existence of your dating life. If she knows what’s good for her, you should be good."

Adrien’s eyes locked on Marinette. "You told her everything?"

"We spared her the sappy stories of you being depressed for months at a time over the whole ‘can’t find my soulmate’ thing," Kagami replied. 

“The constant, crying phone calls,” Chloe added. “The ice cream we had to bring over to our ‘Find the Ladybug’ brainstorming sessions.”

“All the pep talks we’ve given you,” Kagami finished. “And the few private detectives you hired to find her. Otherwise, you have no secrets from her now."

"You’re welcome, Adrinkins! Now, go. Adios. Call us when you get a date. We’ll celebrate."

"I will." Adrien ended the call. A blush raged across his cheeks as he lifted his eyes to Marinette. "So, uh... that’s why you didn’t kick my ass out of the kitchen?"

"You have good friends." Marinette smiled. "They care about you a lot."

"Does that mean I’m forgiven?"

She nodded. "Only if you forgive me for freaking out on you."

He grabbed her hand, bringing it to the lovesick grin on his lips. "I never held that against you. You had all the rights in the universe to be pissed at me."

His lips brushed against her hand, the mark of a black cat lighting up the space around them. "I know we haven't known each other for that long, but we aren't soulmates for nothing. I really like you. You're driven and passionate. Kind and creative. You value family and are an amazing cook. Perhaps fate knew a thing or two when it paired us together. I’d really love a chance to get to know you better, Marinette."

His eyes sparkled with hope, a slight undercurrent of worry lurking beneath. Marinette couldn’t refuse him even if she wanted to. He really did seem like a great guy. "I’d like that too. You aren’t so bad yourself. Not perfect, but decent enough." 

It was a total lie because who was she kidding? He was perfect! Didn’t mean she wanted to feed that already inflated ego of his.

"Really?" He leaned forward. "So, all my fame, looks, and money don’t make me perfect in your eyes?"

Marinette huffed, pulling her hand away just so she could push his way-too-close face away with her finger. "Not even close,” she teased, tapping his nose. “You’re standing here only because of what your friends told me."

"Share. What did they say about me?"

She let out a giggle. "Nothing too horrible."

"Well, now, you’re scaring me. Did they tell you about my feather allergies?"

"Nope, but you just did."

"Lactose intolerance?"

She chuckled. "Wrong again."

"Social inadequacy?"

Marinette couldn’t hold back a laugh. 

"I'm low-key freaking out. What did those two say?"

She took a moment to calm down before replying. "They told me about your big, kind heart, one that doesn't think twice about sacrificing its own desires and comfort for the sake of others. I saw it for myself today when you helped my mother. That’s precious and rare. I like that."

He looked at her in awe for a moment before blurting out, "Can I kiss you right now, or do I have to wait until our first official date?"

Marinette laughed again. "You should’ve just gone for it. Now, the moment’s ruined."

"Ugh, bummer." Adrien mockingly pouted. "Then, tell me, what are you doing for Christmas this year?"

"Nursing my parents back to health."

"Would you mind some company?"

"Don’t you have your family to spend Christmas with?"

He shrugged. "Not really. My father has become a Grinch since… well, since Mom passed away. And I’m sure Chloe and Kagami wouldn’t mind if their third wheel would finally leave them alone."

"They did mention you aren’t on the best terms with your father."

Adrien sighed, leaning on her car. "We aren’t officially feuding or anything. It’s just that… when Mom passed away, Father became very controlling and demanding, stripped me of all freedom, and loaded me with work. I was just a kid; I couldn’t do much about it. Two years ago, I got access to the fund my mom left me, so I moved out. I still work for him, but at least he doesn’t control my every move anymore."

"It doesn’t sound like you’re much of a family, to be honest." 

His smile was bittersweet. "Not that I wanted it to be this way. It’s… complicated."

Perhaps she was naive, but Marinette couldn’t imagine having a living father and wanting nothing to do with him. "Do you think you'd want to reconnect with him someday?"

Adrien shrugged. "Not sure anymore. He used to be a great dad when I was little. The three of us had so much fun together…" A smile briefly touched his lips as Adrien paused for a moment. "I always thought if I behaved and did everything he wanted, he’d snap out of whatever it is that made him so cold but… it never happened. With time, I just gave up on even trying." Turning her way, he reached for her hand, gently cradling it in his. "I’d rather spend my time and energy on someone who wants to get to know me as much as I want to get to know them. Like you, for example. Perhaps tomorrow? Helping you nurse your parents back to health?"

Her heart skipped a bit, and he hadn’t even done anything more than look at her and hold her hand. “Okay.”

He brought her hand to his lips again, enjoying the view of a glowing cat on her skin. "I’ll have to give you a Christmas gift later, though. Pretty sure I won’t be able to find anything at such late notice."

"Don't worry about it. I already got everything I ever wanted."

The chime of the clock thundered through the night air, announcing midnight. Adrien looked its way, murmuring something about turning back into a pumpkin. Marinette wasn’t sure why, but she reached forward, hesitantly laying her hand on his chest. The mark underneath his shirt glowed, its light reflecting in his eyes as he looked back at her with the gentlest of gazes. She couldn’t take her eyes away even if she wanted to because the man before her was a far cry from what she’d ever imagined him to be. She was a goner already, and she didn’t care. The feeling in her chest was just too pleasant. Warm. Fuzzy. Addicting. Something stronger and deeper than anything she’d ever experienced. Something much more beautiful and meaningful than a teenage crush. 

She couldn’t help herself. Marinette stood on her tiptoes and pulled Adrien down for a tender brush of her lips against his cheek.

He looked at her with wide-opened eyes and a deep blush spreading across his face. "I…um… I didn’t… expect that."

"Is that okay?"

He feverishly nodded. "Yes! More than okay. A lot more okay than all the okays in the world. May I… may I return the gesture?" 

"Please.”

He leaned down, aiming for her cheek. Somehow he missed, his lips landing on hers. Neither of them seemed to mind, treating each other to the sweetest kiss one could imagine. Pulling back slightly, Adrien rested his forehead against hers, his eyes locked on hers.

"A soulmate for Christmas. Best present ever."

If Marinette’s heart wasn’t in overdrive before, it sure was now. She couldn’t help but agree with his sentiment. "Merry Christmas, Adrien."

"Merry Christmas, my Lady."

Next >

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[shebeafancyflapjack]

Let Me In

Once again, for some reason, I get a sudden burst of creative energy around midnight. I was only thinking, god, if this scene had been in then TTDS would have had to be very different (for the better), so here it is.

Michael tells Eleanor the truth from the start.

SUBJECT WAKING UP IN 05:00

“Oh good!” Eleanor takes a sigh at the green counter flashing on the back of Michael’s office wall; “At least you’ve got a few minutes to read his file and prepare, right?”

Michael hums, still retaining that sheen of sweat on his forehead that she’s noticed since she entered. He hasn’t quite seemed his excited, determined tree of a demon-self since she walked in. He claimed it was just nerves which, fair enough, made sense considering humanity itself was counting on them.

He’d always seemed so confident since she met him on Earth. She can hardly speak for the Michael she had paired up with before, those memories were lost to her, or the brief glimpses of the ‘evil’ (still putting it mildly) manipulator she saw in the flashbacks of her and Chidi together. The only Michael she’s truly known up until now is the one before her now, the one who saved her and has been watching over her and her friends all this time, guiding them, their constant leader and protector...even if Janet ended up doing most of the physical protecting, the thought still counted, very much so.

This Michael...Her Michael...was no demon. He was their guardian angel buddy. And she didn’t believe anyone could be in charge of the experiment that would fix this screwed up afterlife more than him.

“Hey,” she gets his attention again, deciding that he’s going to know this before she leaves; “Whatever your plan is? It's gonna be great! We trust you.” 

His eyes meet hers, a smile full of surprised warmth appearing on his face.

“Your friends will always trust you.” 

No one has earned that trust more than this dude.

She gives Michael a thumbs up and turns to go out the back door so he can get ready to wake this ‘John’ guy up and get his shirt together. She dimly hears Michael muttering to himself.

“You go...I’m going...And I’m gone...”

Eleanor turns in time to see all six feet of her buddy’s skin suit crumble to his knees. 

“Michael?!” 

She moves to catch him as he slumps against his desk, falling on the floor, her hands on his arm. No, no, no, what the fork is wrong?! Is he sick? Did Shawn or another demon poison him?! All sorts of horrors run through her head to the point she forgets what they’re even supposed to be starting in less than a few minutes, her focus entirely on Michael’s wellbeing. 

“I can’t....I can’t do it....” He starts to hyperventilate, looking at her, eyes wide behind those specs; “I can’t do it, it’s too scary...Oh no, oh no, oh no!”

She’s never heard his voice break like this. Fork, he’s always held it together around them, been their firm if quirky champion. Had that all just been an act?

Was the quivering wreck in her arms more like the Michael she befriended in the last reboot?

“Michael, look at me.” she takes his hand, clutching it tight; “I know it’s a lot but you need to get it together. You’ve got this!”

“No, I don’t! I don’t got this, Eleanor!” He starts to whimper, burying his face in his free hand; “I can’t do this, I’m nothing special, I’m just Middle Management!”

“Bullshirt! Dude, listen!” She says, fiercely; “You are better than all of the demons and Judges and angel nerds I’ve come across so far! You actually want to do shirt that matters, you try to get it done where they either give up or don’t care! You got us this far, man, farther than anyone has ever come out of this ridiculous system...You even got me to snap out being a selfish bench drowning in my nihilistic, determinist crab - You are...You’re our hero, Michael, don’t you get that? And you can be a hero for these humans we’re gonna welcome in too, and for every human that ever dies-.”

“You know you’re just adding to the pressure, right?” 

“Right, fork, forget that last bit.” Eleanor retreats, taking a breath; “Look, all I’m saying is, you have nothing to worry about. You can do this, I have faith in you...Me! I never had faith in anyone since I stopped believing in the tooth fairy after I stayed awake to try to mug her.”

Michael laughs with her, and for a small respite, Eleanor hopes she’s managed to crack through the stress and let him calm down. But then he meets her eyes again, his gaze lingering, before he crumbles into tears.

“No, no, no, I can’t...I can’t, it’s too much...Too much to lose...”

Eleanor looks at the timer. Three minutes thirty seconds. Damn, they don’t have long.

“Michael, what do you mean?” She asks, putting on her no nonsense voice; “We’ve always known what’s at stake, bud, this hasn’t phased you before, why now? What changed?”

He hangs his head, bringing his knees in close and hugging himself like a frightened kid.

Eleanor places her palm on the side of his head; “Talk to me! I just told you that your friends will always trust you, remember? That needs to be two-way, buddy. Trust me. Let me in. Can you do that?”

He remains frozen, meek sobs choking out, eyes shut.

“...For me?”

He looks up at her again, a shift in his expression. As if he’s only seen her there for the first time.

“Shawn called.” Barely a whisper.

Eleanor’s jaw clenches, her fingers tightening on Michael’s wrist.

“What...?” The fork?!

“B-before you came in...He called to say that...He wanted to taunt me about you all being tortured when...I-if we lose...” He sniffs, rubbing his nose; “B-but that also...He’s going to torture you by having one of the demons...w-wear a suit of me. So you guys think that I’m the one...I’m the one who...”

His voice breaks apart again as he shatters once more.

Eleanor’s guts twist in rage. How the fork dare that low-rent Satan mess with her buddy like that?! When they’re only a minute away from...?!

She puts her hands to Michael’s face.

“Hey. Hear me, bud.” She’s truly fired up now, “There is no way we are ever going to fall for a trick like that, even if we do lose, which we won’t. We’ll never believe any of those losers are really you. Especially now you’ve told me.”

“That’s it...That’s why I wasn’t going to...” He confesses, cringing with shame; “He said that he’d erase your memories of finding out. And...”

Another look of horror passes over him.

He tries to shuffle away from her.

“Y-you’re never gonna be sure if it’s me or not...Or if they’ve swapped me, you...” He shudders, uncontrollably, fingers clawing at his own face; “How can you ever trust me now knowing what I’ve told you?!”

He recoils as if she’s already voiced her rejection.

“Dude...It’s okay....” she tries to be soft at first, wanting to reach out and brush those tears off his stupid, pretty but stupid face.

He just shakes his head and keeps looking away.

Eleanor darts forward and reaches for his hands again, pulling them close to her. 

“Michael. I didn’t think it was possible to trust you more than I did five minutes ago but, after you just told me this, and seeing what it’s done...I trust you with everything, with every piece of this...hot soul of mine before you, ‘kay?” She tells him before reaching a hand out to stroke his cheek; “I see you. I know it’s you. And as soon as we get a moment, we can tell the others and organise some sort of plan to ease your worries about this, but for now....Just breathe. Go on.”

He obeys her, taking a deep breath in, then out. The anxiety remains etched into the lines on his face. No wonder, that little mental torture of Shawn’s clearly did a number on him at the worst time.

She reaches out to place her palm on his chest.

“Does that help? I see Jason do it all the time.” she asks, frowning.

Michael is able to manage a tiny smile amidst his distress, looking down at her fingers over the space where his heart should be (but isn’t).

“...It’s helping.” 

Eleanor shuffles forward on the floor and tugs him into her arms, wrapping him up in the tightest of hugs. She wishes, for a moment, she had the power to snap her fingers and take this message from Shawn out of Michael’s memories. Or just beat the shirt outta the guy. Or both.

No one messes with her demon.

“I know you, man. Even without my memories...I feel like I’ve always known you. I ain’t ever letting any stupid demon make me forget you again, or the real you.” She leans in and plants a lingering, sweet kiss on his cheek, leaning back a bit to look into his eyes; “We’re gonna win this. I’m sure we will...And none too soon, we’re gonna be celebrating that victory over Shawn by burning all those fake Michael suits and getting drunk off our ashes.”

He sniffs, raising his hand to stroke her hair, tears soaking his cheeks.

“Eleanor, I...It was so hard to have you guys forget me again but...Not having you trust me, or think I’d ever hurt you again, I...I can’t cope with it...!”

“Then don’t! Don’t let him get to you!” She urges, turning to the wall.

00:30 REMAINING

It’s not enough time. Not for Michael to suddenly clean himself up and be as normal as an only somewhat fake angelic Architect can be. He’s too shaken up. She can give him all the comfort in the cosmos but it won’t restore his courage in time.

Well. Eleanor steels herself. She’ll have to have enough courage for the both of them.

“I’ll do it.” She tells him; “I’ll tell John that I’m the Architect. You just sit in the corner and pretend to be my assistant.”

“What?” Michael blinks; “I....I can’t ask you to...”

“You don’t need to. I’m stealing that chair of yours, bud. I look better in it anyway.” She tells him, resolute; “I can fudge my way through it and then you help me work it out from the shadows, that sound good? Like I said. We’re gonna do this as a team.”

She takes his hand and interlocks their fingers together.

“Trust me?”

He glances at their hands and then at her, taking another deep breath.

“....A-always.”

She smiles, hoping she’s not about to make a huge fork-up. After all Michael has done for her, she has no qualms about taking this role on for him to get it together. 

As the last few seconds count down, she crushes him in another hug.

“Say it with me, man.” she whispers, feeling him tighten his hold as if she’ll disappear; “We’ve got this.”

He exhales, melting in her arms for the last spare moments, before they get back on their feet. Somehow feeling like they’re on the same level now, even with the silver devil still towering over her, a renewed spark of hope in his eyes.

“We’ve got this.”

[dented-nado]

You asked for fluff so maybe 39 with Bruce and Harv(ey) uwu

[[BLESS!! I hope you’ll like some fluff with a sprinkling of hurt/comfort in a post redemption!Harv(ey) AU !]]39: “I love your smile”

Both of them always thought, deep down, the day they were reunited, it would finally be easy. They wouldn’t have to keep fighting so damn hard. But after years of fighting on the streets, fighting each other, fighting Batman who had been the one person he would have done anything and everything for this whole damn time…

Relaxing, ‘finding himself… themselves…’, being around Bruce again, being ‘taken care of’… they didn’t know how to handle it.

Harv wanted to live it up, felt he deserved about 10 years of partying and drinking after going though the effort of trying not to lash out and gain power over a world that at its core had done absolutely nothing for him and only hurt him.

Harvey just wanted to feel normal again, blend into the background, reconcile with all the guilt that Harv didn’t want to think about because it was too much, and ‘haven’t you let me get hurt enough?’.

“It’s not my fault, stop telling me what you did was my fault!” Harvey would snap back.

Well… they may be released from Arkham, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still have work to do.

But being around Bruce, knowing he was Batman, discovering a whole other side to his best friend that both made sense and made him feel like he didn’t really know Bruce as well as he thought at the same time.

There were some things that were real.

Bruce still had a sweet tooth, would still get excited in his own way over Gotham’s history (and history in general). He didn’t like to drink… Harvey had always known that and found it hilarious when Bruce would pretend to be drunk at a gala and ham it up, he had always felt special for being the only one who knew Brucie Wayne didn’t down a champagne bottle before every event.

Bruce would still go quiet sometimes. He remembered, back when they were kids, in kindergarten even - where Harvey would do most of the talking, deciding he liked Bruce quite a lot, and Bruce would always hang around and listen.

But even if Bruce didn’t always say a lot, he had always been there. He’d been there when he was sick, beaten up, happy, sad, up, down, everywhere and everything in between

That being said… well…

Now neither Harvey or Harv knew what to say at least half the time, or they couldn’t come to a conclusion on what to say or how to say or how to begin to say it. That was something around the topic of Bruce they could agree on. They didn’t know how to begin to talk to him anymore. So when they had previously been the one talking the most…

It was awkward.

Not to mention, partially because of his scarring and partially because he had been… you know… a criminal - even attempting to blend in with people and live a completely, “normal” life again was going to be impossible. That time spent in law school was looking more and more pointless by the day.

Sure, he had been told plastic surgery was an option, but being under the knife was too much for *both* of them to handle. The loss of control? What if they woke up in the middle of it? What if it just botched everything up even more?

At most he considered maybe he’d get just barely enough done so that he could close his eye again, maybe not have to worry about half of his mouth and teeth exposed to the elements all the time, make it a little easier to talk… to be able to even try to fully smile again.

But they weren’t there yet, the idea of trusting anyone to knock him out and fuck with his face was just too much. Not to mention he hated when the option was brought up as some sort of a magical solution that would just make everything better. There was an underlying attitude of “if you just looked better, people will just forget what you’ve done, any mental illness? Poof! Gone!”. Harvey hated it, and Harv resented all the times he had been treated like a disease that had to be wiped away because he happened to have all the anger, the sadness, pain, all dumped on him so Harvey could go on pretending he was perfect, that everything was fine. That was why he lost it and lashed out in the first place. All the repressed rage flowing out in the most explosive and destructive way possible.

Except now they realized they had both been in pain, and split from dealing with it in vastly different ways.

So both of them fronted more often. Occasionally getting along and occasionally trying to shove each other aside.

… They still had no idea how to reconnect with their former best friend, who clearly, had not dealt with his own pain as well as they thought.

“Harv, I have your eye-drops.” Bruce’s voice came from behind them, and they slowly turned to look at him. “I don’t think you’ve used them in a while.”

“Oh… right, almost forgot.” Harv grumbled.

“Thank you, Bruce.” Harvey replied as he took the bottle from Bruce’s hand, going a bit out of his way not to accidentally graze Bruce’s hand.

“I was getting to thanking him…”

“Then thank him too! What do you want from me??”

They bickered before Harv finally cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

Bruce cocked his head to the side, it reminded Harvey of the old stray cat he used to feed when he was just a boy.

“Your welcome, Harvey… Harv… I appreciate you trying to be polite. I’m sure Alfred would be proud.”

Harv snorted as he tilted their head back to moisturize their exposed eye. It was a pain in the ass even after having to do it and having doctors do it to him constantly.

“I’m trying to be good… whatever that means.”

Bruce put a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “You are doing good. And for what its worth I’ve gotten called out a fair number of times for not saying please and thank you.”

“Sure, but you're a rich pretty boy and Batman, two people I’d probably least expect to say please and thank you.” Harv teased.

“Your kind of one of a kind when it comes to billionaires actually trying to be polite… or have a soul.” Harvey added on.

“Well, I’m trying to be good.” Bruce replied with a wink.

He started to walk away and leave Harv and Harvey to keep disagreeing on what to watch while they curled up on the couch, but stopped mid-stride. He paused and bounced on his heels for a second as if contemplating whether or not he should speak his mind.

“Harv?”

“Yeah, Pretty Boy?” He replied only half paying attention, and half refocused on the screen in front of him.

“That’s just it, why do you still call me that?” Bruce asked with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean still… ?” Harv paused, mind buzzing with a slight panic. “Does… Does it bother you?”

“No… Not really. I just… we’re not enemies anymore, right?” Bruce said, unconsciously cracking his knuckles as he stood with his legs locked together stiffly.

“Yeah? Duh, of course not. What kind of question is that? What does it have to do with me calling you a pretty boy? That’s what you are.”

Bruce’s eyes suddenly widened as he got an uncharacteristically dumbfounded look on his face.

“You mean… it's not an insult? Or a taunt?” Bruce asked quietly.

“You…”

“Bruce, you're a dumbass.” Harvey interjected.

“You thought… I was insulting you?”

Bruce shuffled his feet and picked at his nails. “Why else would you…?”

Harv(ey) put their head in their hands for a moment and made a frustrated wheezing noise somewhere between a sigh and a quiet scream.

They got up off the couch and walked over to meet Bruce in the middle of the room.

“I know I can’t really wink, or… smile at you but…” Harv looked down at his scared hand, chest aching. “How did you not realize I was flirting with you?!”

Bruce looked positively taken aback. “You were flirting with me? All that time?? Every time we’d happen to meet, when I was me and not Batman...and you’d call me that? You were... trying to..?”

Harv hung his head in defeat. “Of course I was you dense bat-hole.”

“I see…” Bruce replied with an awkward gulp as he gripped at his own arm. For being such a well-built man that was good at making even those taller than him feel miles below him, he was also good at making himself look a lot smaller than he really was as he clenched all his limbs together tightly.

Harv took a deep breath, and with one trembling hand reached out towards Bruce’s cheek to… what? Comfort him? He wasn’t really sure, but he hesitated… looking at his hand and then Bruce staring back at him.

He didn’t really want to touch Bruce with what he thought was a disgusting hand that no one would want near them.So he retracted his hand.

“I just thought… you were rubbing in the fact that me and Harvey had… you know, broken up.” Bruce admitted quietly.

Harv looked taken aback for a second, and tried to ignore the heaviness and old mourning from Harvey, before pressing forward with newfound confidence… or maybe it was just cockiness.

“Unlike Harvey, I’m not stupid enough to give up on the best thing in my life.”

He swelled with pride when Bruce looked away with a sharp inhale through his nose that was turning a bit pink along with his cheeks.

“Excuse you.” Harvey thought.

Bruce almost chuckled at the immediate glare at nowhere in particular he knew was coming from Harvey resenting that comment.

“It was a different time, you know that Harv. We both chickened out on being in a relationship at the time.”

“Still… if it had been up to me…” Harv trailed off, he knew at this point berating Harvey for their life choices did neither of them any good.

Bruce seemed to notice their momentary distracted gaze, and took the initiative with a hum and lightly touched both sides of their face to turn them back towards his eyes as he looked over their features.

“You know Harv. You actually can smile more than you think you can.” Bruce corrected very calmly.

It was Harv’s turn to look dumbfounded. “Even so, it can’t be a very good looking smile.”

Bruce furrowed his brows critically. “I love your smile.”

“You’re nuts.” Harv grumbled. “Come on, this face is disgusting.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen lots of disgusting things as Batman. You’re not one of them. Trust me.”

He let go of their face and put his hands in his pockets. “You’re still “handsome harv” to me.” He said with a small little smile at referencing the nickname Harvey had gotten back in high-school and been continually referred to when he made his first run as a DA.

Harv kicked at the ground and crossed his arms. “Alright. Now you're just trying to stroke my ego.”

“If you keep being nasty to yourself and calling yourself disgusting, I’ll have no choice but to keep stroking it.”

Harv got a sudden wickedly fiendish look on his face. “That’s not the only thing you could str-”

“Hey! How about we finally pick a movie, huh?” Harvey declared suddenly.

Bruce raised his eyebrows almost cartoonishly high in amusement. “Oh, if you want a movie, I have one in mind that Superman and Flash have been badgering me to watch.”

He crossed over to curl up on the couch and patted the seat beside him to encourage Harv(ey) to join him. Now Bruce was the one with the slightly impish look on his face.

“YOU INTERRUPTED!” Harv hissed to Harvey inside their mind.

They sat down on the couch next to Bruce. “Now you’ve got me curious as to what kind of movie a speed demon and a burly alien would recommend.” Harvey chirped in response acting as if nothing happened.

“You were about to embarrass us!” Harvey thought in response trying to look perfectly fine and like they weren’t arguing.

“APOLOGIZE.”

“No.”

“And I’m supposed to be the one who’s the bad guy??”

Then, as the movie began, they both stiffened as Bruce was suddenly calmly leaning on their shoulder. They looked down at Bruce only to get another raised eyebrow in response. This time a raised eyebrow that they both decided to take as “you just going to stare or are you going to relax and put an arm around me?”.

So now here they were leaning back, an arm around Bruce, who had his head calmly on his shoulder. Bruce himself looked incredibly pleased with himself.

Both sat together happy to have each other back in their lives.

Maybe… just maybe… it didn’t have to be so hard anymore after all.

[half-anidiot]

love

the flystep hanahaki au no one asked for

word count: 2480

cross posted here on my ao3

for maximum angst listen to already gone by sleeping at last while reading

--

Kieran didn’t even have to see the flowers to know what they were like.

Rose bushes were lodged in his lungs, making their home where they were not welcome. They took up all the room, expelling the air and oxygen that should have been coursing through his body in favor of growing black roses that clawed their way out of his throat leaving behind blood and aches that sucking on ice cubes could not fix. Black roses because that was the color of their eyes - eyes black and as deep as miles beneath the ocean and holding just as many secrets as they did sins.

Daniel could have tried hiding it (a futile endeavor, but maybe it would have helped settle his mind), but he just showed up to their meeting spot without bothering to mask the raspy voice or red-rimmed stare that never found itself able to meet Kieran’s. It broke a piece of Kieran to see him like that. Daniel was Herald, the Golden Boy, lovable, sweet, kind, and the poster boy for how much good the Rangers could do. He might have been beaten, stepped on, and defeated, but Kieran had never seen him look so broken. Even after the fight at the museum, his screams hadn’t turned into something to be pitied. They were created from the pain that Kieran had spun with their own hands, but filled with frustration, anger, and humiliation. The fear that Kieran had known Daniel was feeling never leaked through, something that they had to give him credit for.

It was different when Daniel grabbed them this time. Forget the fact that it was cloudy when it was usually sunny, tense silence filling the empty void that used to hold quick smiles and light jabs, the way his arms felt wrapped around them felt unequivocally wrong. What typically felt like a shield from the world (such an odd thought that was, Daniel protecting them) felt like a vice squeezing both their body and their heart to the point of bursting. Kieran was almost surprised that Daniel didn’t cough up any petals from the contact, but as they shot through the city past glass buildings and reflective metal both they and Daniel could feel the tickle beginning to build.

Daniel didn’t utter a word, too focused on not dropping Kieran from shaking arms and fighting back the rose that was inching its way up through his windpipe. His thoughts tended to race to and fro like butterflies being swirled into a panic, but during the flight they were slow. A creeping sludge of toxic self-loathing and sorrow that it made even Kieran hold back tears.

Desolate.

Terrified.

Grieving.

Yet here Daniel was, holding the source of his misery tight in his arms as if afraid Kieran would try to leap from his grasp to escape him.

For the millionth time in their life, Kieran wished they could love.

---

The first petal came out after Kieran’s first punch. It was almost comical in a sick, twisted way. Daniel had been too slow, and Kieran, in typical Kieran fashion, had socked him right in the stomach. As their fist slammed into his midsection, he coughed up a blood-splattered petal as if the force of Kieran’s hit had forced it from where it had been resting idly at the base of his throat.

The world seemed to cease movement. Breeze stilling, sounds of the traffic and bustle of life around them quieted as Daniel and Kieran held their breath. One lone black smudge tainted the darkest of reds fell gently to the roof below their feet. It swung back and forth, holding some hypnotic sway over the pair. As it touched down softly time started again. Kieran exhaled so heavily it hurt their chest. Daniel seemed frozen, dull blue gaze locked onto the unmoving petal despite the blissfully cool breeze that had picked up again.

Tentatively, Kieran raised a solitary arm to tap hesitantly on his shoulder. “Daniel…?”

He recoiled as if Kieran’s touch had wounded them (and it hurt, it hurt more than it had any right to considering the circumstances), breathing going from nonexistent to fast and hard in a matter of seconds. Daniel’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, half sobs escaping his chest in a wet ragged sound that scraped against Kieran’s ears and soul. The sludge thoughts had once again turned into the butterflies. However, instead of buttercup and golden sunlight, they were made of razor-sharp metal edges and torn up paper. They swept around Daniel’s mind, leaving bleeding gashes wherever they touched until his psyche was bleeding more than even his throat and lungs were.

“Daniel,” Kieran said more firmly, taming the fear that threatened to overtake their voice knowing it would only make everything worse, “Daniel, look at me.”

For the first time that day, blue met black.

That was, of course, when it all went to hell.

Daniel started choking and Kieran rushed to catch him without even thinking about what they were doing. Hands going under Daniel’s arms, they pulled to keep him from sagging to the ground as his chest spasmed. Guilty tears filled Kieran’s eyes as Daniel gagged and retched, body trying to evict the blossoms that bloomed in his airways. Finally, after what seemed hours of Daniel’s awful noises, he vomited up whatever meager breakfast he had eaten (fruit from the looks of it), blood, and an entire rose. It was mangled. The stem was twisted and torn, the petals had been crushed, and yet Kieran could not help but find some semblance of beauty in it.

Kieran had to hold in a shriek as they studied the flower.

Daniel sagged in their grip and Kieran slowly knelt to the ground while holding Daniel against their chest. His eyes were half-closed, a bleary look being thrown Kieran’s way before they closed completely. Kieran wasn’t sure what it was, perhaps the hopeless aura that Daniel wore like a mantle around his shoulders, but they let loose a desperate whisper of, “I’m so sorry.”

Daniel, being Daniel, responded weakly, “I know, it’s ok.” His hand fingers softly tapped an insignificant pattern on Kieran’s thigh where his hand rested. “I...I love you.”

“I know, Daniel,” Kieran said, wobbly and wavering. “But I-I can’t - ”

“I know.”

But that was the thing.

He didn’t.

---

Kieran had been created to do two things.

Infiltrate.

Listen.

Anything outside of that never should have occurred. 

Kieran wasn’t sure what was different about them - wasn’t sure they had the emotional or mental capacity to study it. But they had the capacity for more. Kieran could feel things they never should have felt - happiness, sadness, anger, despair, excitement, and yet…

Kieran had never been able to love.

For everything they could feel, the emotion that everyone held most dear and closest to their hearts was foreign to Kieran. They had never felt the fluttering of butterflies in their stomach, had never wanted to hold someone so close to them that they became one, had never desired to intertwine their soul with another.

Before Heartbreak, Kieran had had exactly three people they would die for, but to live for someone? To be able to open up and show every leaking wound, every scar that marred their body, every tattoo that lined their body in bright, disgusting, neon orange? It didn’t make sense. There was no guarantee that the person would stay, that they would see what was hidden and not flinch from horror. There was no guarantee that hatred wouldn’t rear its ugly head and strike when you were most vulnerable and leave you half dead and grasping at the strings of life that were slipping away.

Kieran had never felt it, had never understood it.

All it did was further prove that whatever abomination Kieran was, they were most certainly not human. 

Under three layers of clothing (far too many for the heat of Los Diablos) Kieran sat trembling. They were parked on a bench in the dog park. The sun sat high in the sky, a big yellow yolk against a cheerily blue and cloudless expanse. It seemed the universe was mocking Kieran today. Everything seemed more vivid and strikingly beautiful, as if the contrast on the world had been turned up by ten. 

The dogs ran to and fro, happy minds leaving streaks of pastel pink and gold against Kieran’s when they dragged against the last of Kieran’s inner defenses - a wall that they had been building since they had enough conscious thought to do so. It was sturdy, but simple, and thick enough to keep out even experienced telepaths. Over time the outside layer had grown battered, pieces chipped away and different colors splashed against the sides from where other minds had left lasting impacts. They couldn’t be washed off, Kieran had tried many times. The mental paint stuck no matter how Kieran tried to remove it. But the excitement today was leaving without any say so from Kieran. No matter how much they tugged and pulled at the remnants they fled from Kieran like water slipping between their fingers. 

With a violent shudder, Kieran jolted from their thoughts just in time to catch Steel walking towards them.

Suddenly they couldn’t breathe.

It had been a week since the rooftop with Daniel, and Kieran had not seen him since then. It hadn’t been his choice from what they had heard. Daniel had fought tooth and nail to be able to try and see them, but he had been held back by doctors, Ortega, and Steel. The only contact they had had since the fateful day was a single phone call that Kieran would rather forget.

---

“Dan-Daniel?”

Hey, Kieran.

“I-how are you doing?”

I’m...I’m not doing that well, honestly. The doctors told me I only have about a week unless I get the surgery.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

...I’m not getting it.

“...what?”

I’m not going through with the surgery Kieran.

“What do you mean you aren’t going through with the surgery?”

I’m not going to lose all my memories of you. They told me that I run the chance of completely forgetting your existence and I...I’m not doing that. Not just because of you, but because a lot of my memories of my brother are...tied with you.

“Daniel, do you even hear how you sound? Your voice is paper-thin. I don’t even want to know how much weight you’ve lost or when the last time you ate was. This is your life we’re talking about - ”

I’m not losing that. Memories are all I have left of him.

“Daniel if you don’t get the surgery you won’t have to worry about not having th - ”

I’m not getting the sur - 

“YOU’LL BE DEAD!”

…

I’d rather be dead than not have the two most important people in my life.

CLICK.

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

---

A sour taste filled Kieran’s mouth as Steel solemnly told them, “Figured you’d be here. He wants to see you.”

His voice cracked halfway through and his eyes were rubbed raw enough that the pink shone in the sunlight. Steel, despite his namesake, was just as human as the rest of the world. For all he said about Daniel, there was a fondness there that Kieran didn’t quite understand.

Love, but not in the way that they had come to expect it.

“Is-is it - ”

“It’s time.”

The car ride was a blur comprised of shaking hands and a head filled with fog. Kieran couldn’t see straight, couldn’t think straight, couldn’t do anything but sit and tremble and stare out the window as if something would jump in and clean up the mess that had been created. 

Kieran felt like their head had been shoved underwater. Their vision was skewed and everything sounded muffled like someone was trying to speak while they were under. They had done enough research to know that they were dissociating, but as the car ride went by in silence, Kieran couldn’t help but feel slightly grateful. At least, like this, they couldn’t feel anything.

They couldn’t feel the grief that was already welling up in their throat, the heartache, the terror, the desperation that tasted like metal and felt just as heavy on their tongue. It was a poison that the fog blanketing their brain and senses kept at bay.

Before they knew it, Kieran was standing outside of Daniel’s room struggling to open the door. With a shaky inhale, Kieran pulled it open and nearly broke down at the sight that awaited them.

Daniel, the perfectly golden butterfly boy, heart and soul of an angel had had his wings clipped. His thin body lay under white covers (too white, too pure for the toxic disease that Daniel held in his lungs) covered in pale skin that wore a thin sheen of sweat like another layer of clothing. Blue eyes that had once burned fever bright with determination and passion were dull and wrapped in shadows made of purple and red.

Kieran walked over numbly, not quite believing that what they were seeing was real. Any minute now, they would wake up twisted in their sheets from this horrid nightmare and go off to beat Daniel’s ass in a few hours. That had to happen. It had to.

But it wasn’t.

Daniel gave one weak smile underneath the ventilator, eyes glowing as Kieran sat in the chair waiting for them and grabbed Daniel’s hand. It was clammy and he was only able to give a slight squeeze in response to the death grip Kieran had on it. 

For minutes, maybe even seconds, they sat there together.

Daniel and Kieran.

Kieran and Daniel.

For once, the light losing to the darkness.

And then he was gone.

Kieran could feel the moment he died. The last butterfly flapped its wings to the beat of their name Kieran Kieran Kieran Kieran before dropping to the ground of Daniel’s mind. The last glimmer of light went out like a flickering candle in his eyes.

It was there it was there - 

It was gone.

He was gone.

There was no long speech, no ‘I love you’.

One minute he was there, looking into Kieran’s eyes like they were the sun he revolved around (as if Kieran was more important than him) and the next he was dead.

Kieran didn’t remember anything after that.

---

Not even two days later as they lay wrapped in their blankets as if they could save them from the pain that clogged their lungs with mucus and some invisible force that pushed mercilessly on their chest, Kieran felt a tickle at the base of their throat. With a shudder they coughed, they heaved, they gagged, they choked and - 

A petal. 

A petal blue as the sky and twice as bright - exactly like Kieran remembered Daniel’s eyes.

Kieran could love after all.

[jinjikook]

Clock’s Ticking (M)

🎃 word count: 2k

🎃 genre: smut ; idol-verse

🎃 pairing: reader/hyungwon

🎃 warning(s)/kink(s): semi-public sex, voyuerism + exhibitionism, bare backing

🎃 summary: you only have so much time to spend with your boyfriend and after some extensive planning, you find a way to please the both of you and someone else along the line with just minutes to spare

🎃 requested by: anon - “public sex with hyungwon for kinktober? maybe letting the other members or whoever else watch? thanks xx”

🎃 music: climax - usher + p.y.d. - justin beiber 

🎃  masterlist + kinktober 2017

gif credit

Ten minutes.

All you had were ten minutes and you were sure not to waste them as your deft hands made quick work of Hyungwon’s belt, the leather slightly worn down and rough on the pads of your fingertips. The buckle clanked loudly and it felt like you were slamming the damn thing against steel walls or something, but in reality it was just loud in comparison to the relative silence of the hallway.

The sound of staff shuffling their shoes was muffled in the background, working on prepping the next group to go on stage for the festival performance. You weren’t too sure of the schedule but by the sounds of some excited fans chanting and cheering far out in the stadium, you assumed maybe Astro?

Hyungwon’s remaining fellow members were off sitting down in their dressing room, their performance impending but not too hurried since they had another two groups ahead of them. Everyone was already dressed and just about ready, minus a few tech and mic setups and the usual final touches to an outfit or look. Your boyfriend was especially strapping, the shimmering jacket he had on making him look exotic and almost regal in a sense. Frugal, if you had to say so.

“How much longer?” You muffled against Hyungwon’s pillowy soft lips, a wet smack sounded as you two parted for a second before rejoining. He hummed while you unzipped his trousers, the sound just as grating as his belt was; as if each individual tooth was a resounding clap inside the arena.

“8 minutes, I think,” Hyungwon responded, finally looking down to assess how good of a job you’d done of undressing him. All that was left was the barrier of his briefs, the same inky black as the rest of the ensemble, save for the iridescent coat. He huffed out a chuckle and smugly finished by reaching in and pulling his mostly hard cock out from its confines.

The soundtrack audio out in the stadium was finishing the end of a song, by the sounds of the climax of the main singer’s voice, hitting a note you never thought a man could achieve so seamlessly.

“Guess we better get on with it, you did what I asked?” Hyungwon breathed against your mouth, hands wandering to stroke your back, graze your chest and grip at your waist. You nodded and took his hand in your own, leading him down, down, down until he reached underneath your skirt, pushing your underwear aside and feeling the distinct wetness of your core. His fingers dipped in and felt how wet you were, already stretched enough that his fingers entered with ease. He was pleased with how you prepared beforehand, knowing that you’d only have the most minimal amount of time for what you had planned.

With another messy lock of lips, you loop your arms around Hyungwon’s shoulders and make a noise to warn him before jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to keep your mouths melded together. His hands found purchase on the small of your back, supporting your weight and guiding you down ever so slowly until he nudged the billowy fabric of your skirt out of the way and you felt him bump against your entrance.

The small bead of pre come at the tip made contact with you and you felt yourself shudder at the impending burn as he began to enter you, just as slowly as he initially began to lower you. He grunted with exertion, not being the strongest in the group but still able to keep you afloat.

Finally he bottomed out, making you lean forward to rest your forehead against his own, labored breathing matching each other’s.

“The wall,” You whispered, more of a rasp than anything else.

Hyungwon immediately understood and he held you tighter against him as he spun the pair of you until your back reached the white wall of the hallway, giving him some support in holding you and some relief to your spine.

You two shared huffed breaths and you whimpered at his length sheathed inside you, shifting with every minute movement.

“Five minutes!” A staff member shouts off in the distance, others responding with resounding yells of idol names and others they may need for the upcoming performance. Some woman, probably a make-up artist, hollered for a Siyeon so if your memory served you right, it was Dreamcatcher up next. The final group before MONSTA X was due on stage.

“Guess that’s our cue, doll.” Hyungwon didn’t give you time to process what he said until he was pistoning in and out of you, like clockwork. It was solid and steady and kept making your body rattle against the firm concrete wall; you were suddenly grateful to have something behind you to keep you grounded. He pounded harder and you held on tight, muffling your whimpers against his neck and wishing you could mark him up, show his fans what he got on to before his big performance.

As he continued his harsh ministrations on your body, whispering sweet nothing and filthy phrases into your ear, you distinctly catch the sound of something—footsteps coming closer and closer. You tried to form your mouth to make words, to warn Hyungwon that someone was coming and that you had to stop, to hide from prying eyes.

But that would take away from this little game, wouldn’t it?

He only kept going harder, your body bouncing in his lap almost like a ragdoll, loose-limbed. The person came closer, their voice growing as you were able to make out what they were saying. Calling out a name: Hyungwon’s.

“Th-they’re looking for you,” You stammer and stutter, voice hopping with your body. Hyungwon nips at your ear, dips lower to suck into your neck. He’s allowed to mark, as unfair as it was. Able to show everyone you were taken, though you could never say by whom.

“Then let them find us.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as Hyungwon made it a point to fuck into you just right, in the spot that made you see stars and want to scream strings of profanities followed by his name. Hyungwon’s hamstrings burned as he exerted as much force as possible to make you let the others know where you were, what he was doing to you.

“Oh!” It was sudden, the only thing you could do was shut your eyes tight and hope that Hyungwon’s body shielded your own as well as possible. “U-um…”

Hyungwon chuckled and kept going, hands sneaking down under your thighs and hiking you up higher against the wall, making your face too far up to be shielded by his height and shoulders. Making it impossible for you to hide from the welcomed intruder.

Jooheon stood static where he entered, a side door into an otherwise empty hallway. Where he caught sight of Hyungwon and yourself, entangled in each other in a current of passion.

Half of him said he should pry his curious eyes away from the scene at hand and allow you two the privacy it seemed you searched for. But the other half was stunned by Hyungwon’s boldness, seeing him in such a position he’d never been exposed to before. Sure, he’d walked in on his older bandmate jerking off a couple times or seen him hard under his boxers after waking up with unfortunate morning wood, but never like this: inside a beautiful girl with the most addictive moans he’d ever heard in his entire life.

Should he say something? Would it be rude to interrupt what was clearly very pleasurable if the sounds were anything to go by?

Hyungwon simply nipped along the shell of your ear, hot breath echoing with the resounding blood pounding inside your ears. No longer was he speaking, forcing you to focus on the heavy breathing of another, one that was not from you or your lover.

You could hear him stutter and stammer, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish out of water. He was at an impasse; a crossroads of such. There wasn’t an exact set of rules or a moral code to this, other than the basic nature that one should walk away and forget they’ve seen anything but how could he forget your melodious moans as Hyungwon bounced you against the wall? How he sucked fresh marks, puffy and swollen as much as his own lips?

Everything was moving too fast yet sticky slow at the same time, in such creamy, fuzzy detail that Jooheon would—whether he wanted to or not—commit this all to memory; work his right wrist sore to a too familiar face and a voice that he’d hear at night, on the phone giggling and talking with her boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

This was so unbelievably wrong, yet when Hyungwon managed to hit some sweet spot deep inside you, it wasn’t his name that you whimpered almost weakly.

It was Jooheon’s.

His presence was already known, and supposedly welcomed if you were saying his name and Hyungwon wasn’t stopping, his hips snapping seemingly harder and getting louder every second.

You clawed at Hyungwon’s back, no longer holding back your noises now that the cat was out of the bag. You could feel his cock twitching inside you and his rhythm getting erratic, a sign that he was getting close, as you spilled out a litany of curses and pleas, all trailed with a name that was not his. It ran a hot flash of possessiveness in him, head buried deep in the crook of your neck and mouthing hot and wetly against the column of your neck.

He kissed up to your ear, tugging on the lobe before whispering.

“Time’s up, love.”

With a final push, you were tumbling down, coming so hard that you couldn’t even hear how loudly you were moaning Jooheon’s name, your partner in a similar disarray save that he was groaning unintelligibly against you.

As for Jooheon, he was nearly biting clear through his lip, cock straining hard against the white suit pants the wardrobe ladies had chosen for him. It did absolutely nothing to hide his arousal, even if he were to deny it.

You were slowly coming back to your senses, as frayed and in shambles as they were. Everything blurred into a finite point of focus, Hyungwon’s large palms cradling your hips and guiding you back to your weak and shaky feet, Jooheon’s fists tight at his own sides, eyes glued to you. Your boyfriend tucked himself back into his pants, pulling out the travel sized pack of wipes from where he’d hidden them in his suit jacket specifically for this little endeavor to clean you up, wiping at your thighs where his release trickled out and you jerked with oversensitivity.

Jooheon was just as frozen as the second he’d come to face the two of you, looking both flushed and tomato red at the same time, slightly sweaty and clearly holding back some sort of feelings on the situation at hand.

The crowd outside in the stadium was chanting, roaring to life as the MC began to introduce the next group with a litany of announcements, talking a little about the group itself and reminding fans about some booth to visit to win autographed merchandise or something of that subject.

Both Hyungwon and Jooheon’s phones buzzed in their pockets, someone calling them to probably find out where they were. It made Jooheon jump where he stood, not expecting the sensation against his taut thigh where he’d pocketed his cell earlier. Hyungwon made no move to answer it, instead balling up the soiled wipes in his hand, taking your own and intertwining fingers before turning to face his bandmate.

Jooheon was like a deer in the headlights; frightened and shaking like a leaf at the breach of autumn. He tried to stutter out an apology, words bumping into each other and making every sentence a mush of syllables and consonants. You giggled at his reaction and Hyungwon smirked, turning back to give you a wet peck on the high of your cheekbone before loosening his grip on your hand and slipping away.

“C’mon ‘Heon, we need to get to the stage,” Hyungwon sauntered, as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out against the wall moments prior, with his younger peer watching nearly the entire time.

“You heard the man,” You nudged at Jooheon and he shook out of whatever stupor he’d been in, spell broken as he ran after Hyungwon and you laughed at the circumstances of it all.

Your own phone was ringing in the pocket of the cardigan you were wearing, a text from Hyungwon.

wonnie ♡ [2:12 PM]: maybe next time we can surprise kihyun hyung

wonnie ♡ [2:12 PM]: his head would probably explode lol

You shook your head and laughed, wondering just what you got yourself into when you began dating the boy you were so madly in love with.

[secondaryrealm]

A super late birthday present for my dear friend Cami/ @golden-tomahawk !! I hope this isn’t too over the top sappy for you and that it was worth the wait <33

Slamming a hefty textbook shut while practically growling in frustration was in serious danger of becoming your signature gesture. Closing your eyes you let your face fall into your hands. Why were there always those days that, no matter how long you were in the library, no many how much time you forced yourself to sit at your desk and work, some days it just never felt like enough. Everyone spend most of their life in university stressing over this or that, but that knowledge didn’t make your individual plight any less distressing. 

You sensed Connor shift in his seat beside you before feeling a gentle hand start rubbing soothing circles along your back. “Do you want me to get you another drink from the vendors?” he asked, always eager to ease your tension.

You heaved a sigh “No that’s okay... but I guess a snack sounds nice.”

He smiled patiently “Let’s go to that little cafe we found the other day, the library will be closing soon anyway and the change in scenery might do you some good.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Wanting to show your appreciation for not only his suggestion, but his support in general, you leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “And thanks, you always have the best answers.” The hint of a blush that dusted his cheeks was what really made you smile. Bouts of bashfulness always hit him even after all the time you two had been dating, it was just cute honestly.

He gathered up both stacks of textbooks you two had brought, sliding them in your backpacks before heaving them both onto his shoulders. Such a gentleman.

“You don’t have to carry mine.” you were quick to assure.

“I know I do not have to, I want to.” Though he still had a bit of a blush, he apparently felt more bold than embarrassed in the moment, because he leaned down, kissing your forehead and paying no mind to the girls at the next table who giggled and ‘aw’ed.

Winter was still going strong and snow covered the ground as you walked home a few days later. The weather made you look forward to putting on some comfy, warm clothes and curling up under a pile of blankets for the rest of the night. 

When you got to your front door you were thinking about how nice it would be to cuddle up next to Connor, who was always warm and snugly like a puppy dog; though what actually greeted you when you opened said door stunned you.

The lights were set down to a nice low glow that was bright enough to light your way, but dim enough to set an immediate romantic mood. A path of velvet petals aided this gentle ambiance and it lead off into the living room, a subtle promise that an even bigger surprise was just around the corner. 

After taking off your coat and tossing it onto the hook by the door, you walked along the trail, heartbeat picking up just a bit at the idea of what you’d see next. Soft instrumental music was playing just ahead and when you finally reached the living room, you let out a low gasp of wonder.

Fairy lights hung from the walls and lay delicately on the carpet, with more rose petals scattered here and there. Then at the center of it all was a lovely little indoor picnic. Blankets and pillows were set up on the floor in front of the couch, electric candles sat among a warm meal from your favorite take out place, all complete with chocolates and fruits for desert.

As you stood there in awe, two large, gentle arms slid around your waist and pulled you against a firm chest. Connor place a kiss on your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Welcome home.” he whispered.

“C-Connor! All of this- I mean you- What’s the occasion?” is what you managed in reply.

His arms pressed you even closer in a brief, affectionate squeeze. “I know the rose petals were a bit cheesy, but... you have been so stressed over school lately, I wanted to do something romantic and special for you, to take your mind off everything.” You could hear the self consciousness creep into his voice in the small pause he gave before adding “...do you like it?”

You were quick to turn around in his arms and look into his soulful eye as you replied “Yes! Of course I like it, I love it!” 

To fully express the sentiment you presses your lips to his for a long kiss, deepening the contact by carding your fingers through his hair. He gave a content hum and moved one hand to slid up so he could hold the back of your neck. 

His eyes were still closed for a moment, basking in the passion, when you pulled away. “Thank you, this is so perfect and thoughtful.” another quick peck on the lips “Thank you.”

His smile alone nearly sent you swooning in his arms. He took your hands in his, leading you over to the pile of cushions and blankets. “If the food got cold I can pop it in the microwave.” He assured, and though the meal had gotten a tad cold, it tasted just fine and you were eager to simply curl up and enjoy the evening with him.

It was the perfect spot in the living room to watch a movie and he had selected the latest feel-good, slice of life movie for you to watch while eating, snuggled up against soft cushions and fuzzy blankets. It wasn’t long before you were laying between Connor’s legs, head laying on his strong chest as he ran his fingers through your hair and played with the strands. A perfect, relaxing, romantic evening.

Connor had to get up earlier than you some days because of his part time job, it would have been nice to talk to him before heading off to class this morning, but you didn’t let it get you down too much as you got out of bed. Today was going to be a good day! At least, that was the attitude you were trying to keep up, you were fairly confident in your ability to pass today’s test. But of course, there was always that weird rush of doubt and anxiety just beforehand; that irrational panic that you would suddenly forget everything the moment you sat down, or not have actually studied for the right subject, or something equally as silly.

Already trying to thwart off those panicky moods you made your way to the bathroom, and at first didn’t notice the yellow sticky note posted to the mirror. Once you went to get your tooth brush and tooth paste you did notice however. Written in familiar handwriting were the words:

Good luck on your test today ❤️ I know you can do it, I believe in you!

You smiled at the note, looking it over fondly for a few moments before setting it safely aside to finish getting ready. You went to grab your lunch from the fridge only to find yet another note stuck to the door handle.

Don’t forget to eat a full lunch today I slipped your favorite treat in there so you’d have something to look forward to

A giddy bit of laughter slipped out, amazed and delighted at how sweet the sentiment was. With care you placed the second note with the first before grabbing your lunch from the fridge. The best things apparently came in threes because there was a final note stuck just above the front door’s knob. This one was simpler than the first two, but still just a nice little thing to get your day off to the right start.

Come by the shop after class, we can  go do something after I’m done working❤️

You placed the last note with its companions, sliding all three into your bag between your textbooks. Today was going to be an awesome day! No rush of anxiety would get you down, and if it threatened to, you’d look at the small messages and, hopefully, believe in yourself just as much as your boyfriend did.

Days later you were rushing down the sidewalk, a huge smile plastered on your face as you made your way to meet Connor. He was already settled down in your favorite table in the library, a secluded little spot on the second floor, history book propped open and highlighter in hand. He had barely heard your approach and looked up before you slid into the chair across from him and pulled out a paper from your bag.

“I got my test score back today.”

It was easy to read the delight on your face, because he was already looking happy before you even showed him the printout of your results. The look shifted to one of pure joy when he saw the outstanding grade printed there. He grabbed your hand in his and kissed it.

“See? I knew you would do amazing on it.”

“I was pretty confident after I was done with the test, but it’s still nice to see the results.” You slipped the print out back into your bag, before leaning over the table and planting a firm kiss on the gentle giant.

“What was that for?” he asked, though obviously not at all complaining.

“Hm, I just wanted to say thank you for always being so supportive and encouraging. You’re just a really amazing boyfriend, Connor.” You were content to just stay there for a few moments, just looking into his handsome, smiling face as, his expression mirrored yours of pure affection.

He cupped your face with a gentle hand, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “I love you, it’s my job to be supportive and encouraging.”

You couldn’t help but to close your eyes, just to take in the simple, happy moment. “I love you too, Connor.”