#dishes miraculously ended up in cross' room

[unovaascollectionoftrinkets]

The Wonder Duo Takes Down Grape Juice

Minoru Mineta messed up big time.

He crossed the line—so far over it, he couldn’t see it anymore—and managed to piss off the two people who were willing to do something about it. The *only* two, apparently.

This time, the Wonder Duo isn’t charging in with fists or quirks blazing. Instead, they’re playing the long game, armed with something far more dangerous: a meticulously crafted plan. Calculated, ruthless, and utterly foolproof to ensure there’s no way for him to weasel out of the consequences.

***Sexual Harassment is alluded to/talked about in this fic! Nothing is spoken about in graphic detail but just be warned!***

***Mineta POV in parts of the story*** ( I feel like that needs a trigger warning, lol)

read on ao3 -> The Wonder Duo Takes Down Grape Juice

Katsuki Bakugou was in a damn good mood. 

Not just a passing, "oh, things don’t suck for once" kind of good. 

The kind of good that made his usual scowl curl into something almost smug, less rabid dog and more wolf licking its chops after a fresh kill. Why wouldn’t he be? He’d just wiped the fucking floor with Deku during training. 

Yeah, Deku. Mr. All-Powerful-Chosen-One-And-His-Fifty-Million-Fucking-Quirks. 

For once, the nerd couldn’t pull some out-of-nowhere strategy from thin air or cry his way into some miraculous comeback. Nope. 

King Explosion Murder: Dynamight took the W, and holy shit, it felt sweet.

Still riding the high of kicking the Symbol of Peace 2.0’s ass, Katsuki figured he’d earned himself a feast. 

A proper reward, the kind that could satisfy the rarest of wins: the taste of outsmarting Deku. Maybe katsudon. Yeah, it was cliché, but nothing hit quite like steaming rice and juicy cutlets smothered in eggs. And sure, Deku’s favorite dish didn’t influence his craving at all. (Fuck you for even thinking that.)

Hell, he might even save some leftovers for the nerd.

If he was feeling generous.

Probably not.

(Most definitely.)

He turned the corner into the common room, mentally debating which idiot’s pantry hoard he’d raid when a prickling tension shot through him. His muscles went rigid. It wasn’t the adrenaline-fueled buzz of combat readiness, but something worse. Deeper. Like the room was waiting to swallow him whole.

What the actual fuck is this?

At first, Katsuki’s brain went to villains. 

It always did. Danger, chaos, explosions—that was how he worked. Someone had to be screwing with his head, right? Someone like that stab-happy, freaky blood girl with the soul-crushing grin. 

She’d popped up as Pinky once before, hadn’t she? There had to be an explanation, because there was no way this was real.

And yet, the truth sat there like a slap to the face.

Pinky—Mina-fucking-Ashido—was crying.

No, not just crying. Not the tears-you-see-in-sap-TV-bullshit kind of crying. She was sobbing like the entire world had gone up in flames. Her whole body shook, curls spilling across her face like a shield she didn’t want to lift.

Katsuki froze. 

This didn’t compute. 

Mina didn’t cry.

She was an obnoxious firecracker, bright and loud as hell, the life of the party even when you wanted her to shut the fuck up. Always dancing in stupid TikToks, nagging Kirishima about his hair routine, or pulling Hagakure into a whispered gossip spiral about god knows what.

Occasionally, sure, she’d flop onto the couch and sigh dramatically about her "horrible" problems: “Blasty, my nails keep chipping! It’s the end of my life!” Usually, followed by some bullshit story about how her favorite moisturizer ran out.

This wasn’t that.

“Mina?” The word came out too loud, more bark than question. It tore through the common room like an explosion, shaking both the silence and her trembling form. “What the hell are you doing just sittin’ there?”

Nothing.

Mina didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. Her arms curled tighter around her legs as if to anchor herself.

Katsuki’s frown deepened, an unfamiliar tightness settling in his chest. 

His instincts screamed at him to grab her shoulders, shake the answer out of her, but something in the air warned him to stop. He’d fucked this up enough in the past—getting his provisional license drilled that lesson into him. Harsh words and blunt actions weren’t always the answer. 

Sometimes, sometimes, a gentler approach was the only way forward.

Did it make him good at this kind of shit? 

Hell no. 

Did he care enough about Mina to try? 

Hell yes.

He stomped closer, his boots heavy against the polished floor, and crouched down in front of her. Planting himself between her and the rest of the common room, Katsuki positioned himself like a wall—a shield against whatever shitstorm had brought her here. His usual scowl softened by half a degree, and after a small pause, he slowly reached out. His calloused fingers brushed under her chin, lifting her face just enough to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he muttered, his voice losing some of its usual sharp edges.

Her face was a mess. 

Puffy, red-rimmed eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her cheeks were streaked with dried salt tracks. She looked hollow, like a photograph of herself that had faded in the sun. The sight churned his stomach, unfamiliar and deeply unsettling. 

Where was her usual vibrance? 

Her light?

It pissed him off. And not just because he hated seeing her like this—but because somebody had clearly caused it.

“Oi,” he growled, voice quieter this time but no less dangerous. “Who the fuck do I need to kill?”

He wasn’t joking. Not even a little. 

The words were more fact than question. 

Whoever had done this—whoever had hurt her—was going to pay for it in ways they couldn’t even begin to imagine. If there was no justice waiting for them, then Katsuki himself would drag them down to hell if no divine intervention showed up first.

That promise must have been clear in his face, because for the first time that day, Mina looked startled. She blinked, a flicker of the old her flashing through the exhaustion clouding her gaze. Her lips twitched—just barely—a faint, weak thing that almost resembled a smile. 

And for one brief second, he thought maybe—just maybe—he was helping.

Then her gaze dropped again, her expression crumpling as reality came crashing back down. Her fingers tightened around her legs, knuckles going white, and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

Finally, her voice came, quiet and broken.

“It’s Mineta,” she whispered, each syllable heavy with shame and hurt.

The name hit like a bomb detonating in his head.

Mineta. 

Of fucking course it was Mineta.

Katsuki’s hands curled into tight fists, nails biting into his palms. 

That grape-haired fuck should have been dealt with a long time ago. 

Hell, the fact that Aizawa—arguably the most no-nonsense, trash-clearing teacher UA had ever seen—hadn’t expelled his sorry ass by now was un-fucking-believable. If this bastard had gone after Mina, the bubbly heart of Class 2-A, Katsuki wasn’t sure if the bastard even deserved the dignity of an apology after Katsuki beat him within an inch of his worthless life. 

He’d also be having a very long conversation with Eraserhead after.

Because letting his shit slide for this long was not okay.

His fists clenched tight enough that tiny crackles of heat began to flicker around his knuckles. The fiery rage coiled in his gut was kept barely in check—just enough to keep him from torching the furniture. 

He’d heard plenty of Mineta’s gross commentary in passing before, stupid shit about the girls’ uniforms or their “figures.” Most of the time, Mina or Yaoyorozu would shut him down with a sharp comment, and Jirou had once threatened to shove her earphone jack straight down his throat if he got too loud.

But that was the thing—those moments always passed. 

The girls laughed it off, brushing his shit behavior under the rug like it didn’t matter. And, okay, Katsuki might’ve thought it didn’t, either. Hell, he’d never witnessed the worst of it himself. 

He’d assumed the bastard kept himself on a leash just enough to avoid expulsion.

He didn’t even realize how wrong he’d been. Not until now.

Seeing Mina like this—reduced to shaking sobs instead of her usual blaring chaos—made one thing crystal clear. Whatever that bastard had done wasn’t just stupid comments or gross jokes anymore. This wasn’t a passing annoyance. It wasn’t something anyone should brush off.

This was going to end here.

“What the fuck did he say?” Katsuki snarled. “What the fuck did he do? I want details—‘cause I swear on everything I’m giving it back to him ten goddamn times worse.”

Mina flinched at his volume, and he forced himself to exhale slowly, scrubbing his palm across his face.

He hated this. 

He hated that he couldn’t even comfort her without turning into a goddamn nuclear meltdown. 

But he’d always been like this. 

Even after two years, even after everything he’d tried to learn about being less of an ass, his anger still burned just below the surface, ready to erupt at any moment. Sure, he’d mellowed—kind of—but he was still Bakugo Katsuki. 

But for Mina’s sake, he had to try.

He looked back at her, taking in the slight tremble of her lip, the way her body seemed to fold in on itself like she wanted to disappear. His voice dropped a little more, low and steady as he added, “Tell me what he did, Mina. I need to know.”

He didn’t just need it for revenge. He needed it to protect her—because nobody did this to one of their own and got away with it.

Not while he was around.

Katsuki planted himself more firmly, his knees protesting slightly from crouching so long, but he didn’t budge. 

Mina needed the time—needed something—and he sure as hell wasn’t about to rush her. Not this time. He could feel her tremors through the silence, each small shake tugging at something unfamiliar in his chest. 

Was this what they called patience? 

It wasn’t something he wore comfortably, but for Mina, he’d make it work.

She sniffled softly, and his mind raced. 

What the hell was he supposed to do here? His usual mode of operation was more bulldozer, less tender caregiver. For a moment, his jaw worked in silence as he replayed fleeting memories of others dealing with this kind of thing. 

What do people do when someone’s crying? 

His mom sure as hell hadn’t been much of a reference—“stop crying, brat!” wasn’t going to cut it.

Then he remembered seeing Deku’s mom once, years ago, when they were kids. She’d sat beside Izuku after a bad day, rubbing circles on his back and speaking so softly even Katsuki couldn’t hear. 

It had worked, too—the idiot had calmed down faster than a firework fizzling out.

Well, fuck it. Worth a shot.

Cautiously, Katsuki lifted a hand, hovering awkwardly behind Mina’s shoulder before finally pressing it lightly to her back. His fingers were stiff at first, unsure, but he started moving them in slow circles, imitating the motion he’d seen all those years ago.

She tensed under his touch at first, startled by the unexpected gesture. 

Her breath hitched sharply, and for a second, he wondered if he’d overstepped and made it worse. But the tension melted quickly, her shoulders easing just a fraction. The shaking softened too, though her sniffles persisted.

It seemed to work.

Huh. Not bad, he thought, cataloging the move for later. Maybe it wasn’t too terrible to have something in his arsenal besides yelling and blasting things.

A broken sound dragged his focus back to her as she finally tried to speak.

“He—” Mina hiccupped, choking on the word. A small, trembling hand darted up to swipe at her face, as if it could erase the tear tracks still marking her cheeks. She took another shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut, before trying again. “He…”

Her voice cracked mid-word, and for a heartbeat, Katsuki felt like his insides might split apart. His gut churned with frustration, anger, helplessness—all the shit he was never good at processing. He fought down the immediate urge to storm out and fix this the only way he knew how: with fists and explosions. 

Right now, that wouldn’t help her. And helping her came first.

“I’m listening,” he murmured, voice rough but gentler than it had been all day.

It was the nudge she needed, apparently. 

Between uneven breaths, she forced the words out in pieces, so soft they were almost swallowed by the still air of the common room.

By the time she finished, Katsuki’s blood felt like liquid fire coursing through his veins. A rage hotter and more intense than any explosion he could muster pulsed in his chest, pounding in his skull, blurring his vision at the edges. His hand stilled on her back, flexing like it was trying to grip an imaginary bomb to launch into the nearest target.

Yeah. That bastard was fucking dead.

His mind immediately spun with possibilities. 

Every bone in his body screamed at him to march upstairs right now, grab Mineta by his ugly little haircut, and make sure he understood exactly what hell looked like up close. 

But—dammit—he couldn’t do that. Not yet.

Mina’s fragile sniffle brought him back down a notch. She wasn’t ready for explosions or confrontation. She needed calm. Quiet. Someone who could pull her out of the hell Mineta had dragged her into.

He adjusted his posture, relaxing his tense shoulders, and looked for anything—anything—that might make her laugh, or even just smile. The pink streak of her hair curled in messy tufts against her damp cheeks, her alien-like horns slumped slightly forward as if drooping under the weight of everything. 

Come on, he thought. Think of something, dumbass.

“You’re pretty damn lucky, y’know,” Katsuki muttered finally, keeping his voice low but firm.

Mina blinked at him, her wide, red-rimmed eyes darting up to meet his. She didn’t look convinced, but curiosity flickered in the background.

“Lucky?” she rasped, barely audible.

“Yeah,” he said with exaggerated seriousness, giving her back another careful circle. “Lucky I didn’t have any other plans tonight, ‘cause now I’ve gotta waste my time kicking the absolute shit outta that bastard for you.”

It wasn’t much—definitely not comedy gold—but it got a reaction. A single puff of air escaped her lips. Quiet, shaky, barely there—but unmistakably the start of a laugh.

“See?” Katsuki pressed, smirking slightly. “There’s that dumb face you make when you laugh. Told you I could get it back.”

Mina sniffled again, a hint of a watery chuckle escaping her throat. She shook her head lightly, but her lips twitched upward, just enough to count.

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t nearly enough.

But for now, it was something. 

And it was enough to fuel him. Because as soon as he was sure Mina was okay—or at least as close to okay as she could be—Mineta was going to learn what hell on earth felt like.

And Katsuki would make damn sure it burned.

Katsuki stayed with her longer than he intended. 

He didn’t say much—didn’t need to. 

His presence was enough, a steady, unrelenting anchor as Mina slowly collected herself. Her trembling subsided bit by bit, and the sniffling grew less frequent, though her puffy eyes and occasional hiccups told him the storm hadn’t completely passed.

Still, progress was progress.

He even stayed long enough to shoot Kirishima a quick text under the table:

Oi. Pinky’s a mess. Get your ass here and take over. I got trash to take out.

His thumb hovered over the send button before he added another line:

Don’t fuck it up. Be her rock or some shit. She needs you.

Katsuki hated to admit it, but if anyone could handle Mina with the gentleness and understanding she needed right now, it was Eijirou. And though Katsuki wasn’t one for leaving things half-finished, Mina deserved someone who wasn’t about to explode at the first mention of that name.

Moments later, Kirishima’s enthusiastic response lit up the screen:

On it! I’ll be right there, bro. Thanks for telling me!

Katsuki slid the phone back into his pocket, preparing to stand, but Mina’s soft voice stopped him.

“Wait, Kats…”

He turned, looking down at her. She was still curled on the couch, clutching her knees, but there was a little more color in her face now. Her horns stood straighter, and the faintest spark of her usual self had returned to her exhausted eyes.

“You’re not gonna…” Her voice wavered as she hesitated. “You’re not actually gonna kill him… are you?”

Katsuki tilted his head, crossing his arms as a slow smirk crept onto his face. His reply came low and razor-sharp.

“No.” He let the word hang for a moment before adding, “I’m gonna do worse.”

Her expression faltered, torn between worry and incredulous humor, but Katsuki was already turning toward the hall. 

It didn’t take long to form a plan. Hell, he already had the bones of it in his head. The plan he had brewing required backup—not some random idiot like Round Face or Electric Dunce, but someone who could actually help. 

Someone just as good at scheming as Katsuki was at winning.

And there was only one nerd with a hero complex big enough to share his burning rage right now.

Fishing his phone from his pocket, he started dialing as he stalked toward the hall. His footsteps echoed against the walls, matching the fury burning in his chest. 

It didn’t take long for the other end of the line to pick up.

“Kacchan?” Deku’s voice filtered through the speaker, half-surprised and half-excited, like Katsuki never called just to chat. “What’s up?”

“Get your ass to my room,” Katsuki ordered, pacing like a caged tiger. “Now. We got a little extra-credit assignment to do.”

“Wait, what kind of—”

“Mineta fucked up. Big time.” The words came out sharp and deliberate. Katsuki’s rage simmered just beneath the surface, but his tone was chillingly calm. “So we’re making sure the little shit doesn’t just get punished. He’s getting kicked the fuck out.”

Silence. Then—soft, deadly serious:

“I’ll be there in five.”

Perfect. 

This wasn’t just about petty vengeance anymore. Katsuki Bakugou was going to dismantle Mineta’s future at U.A.—strategically, of course.

And Deku was the perfect partner in crime.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Mina walked into class the next day feeling a little lighter. 

The events of the previous evening still lingered at the back of her mind, but it didn’t feel as suffocating now. Talking to Eijirou had helped—he always had a way of brightening her mood with his warmth and encouragement. 

But honestly? 

It was Blasty who’d really done it.

She hadn’t expected him to be the one to stick around, much less help her through the worst of it. Hell, she hadn’t ever seen him like that before—genuine, kind in his own explosive way. Sweet, even. Could you even call promising to murder someone "sweet"? Probably not. 

Still, it was strangely comforting, in that very Bakugo Katsuki way.

His willingness to protect her, to act like what she’d been through mattered, made her start to understand why Midoriya looked up to him so much. Katsuki wasn’t just all fire and fury; there was something deeper underneath the rough edges. 

Something good.

Of course, she had known that, but this was the first time sh had experienced it firsthand.

Mina adjusted the strap of her bag as she stepped into the classroom. 

She liked to arrive in that perfect middle ground—not early enough to look like a try-hard, but not late enough to earn one of Iida’s dramatic scoldings. 

As expected, she found the usual suspects already there.

One of them being Katsuki. 

He was slouched in his chair like a king on an unimpressive throne, feet up on his desk, arms crossed, and his trademark scowl on full display. The sight made her smile faintly despite herself. No matter what unexpected depths he might have shown last night, some things about Katsuki Bakugo never changed.

She glanced his way as she crossed the room. 

When she met Katsuki’s gaze, her breath caught in her throat. His crimson eyes bored into hers, sharp and blazing with something unspoken. She hesitated mid-step, uncertain of what he was trying to say.

Then he made a gesture—subtle and deliberate.

Flexing his fingers, he raised a hand and clenched it slowly, twisting as though crushing something invisible in his palm. There was no theatrics to it, no wild snarls or exaggerated movements. This wasn’t the Katsuki who riled up opponents with over-the-top smirks and loud threats.

This was colder. Controlled.

And far more terrifying.

Its message was clear: Mineta had been dealt with.

She still couldn’t shake the memory of him storming off the night before, fury radiating off him in waves after he’d sworn to handle Mineta. Part of her had braced for the aftermath—a round of deafening explosions shaking the dorms, or worse, a midnight announcement that Katsuki had gone too far and landed himself in deep trouble.

But none of that had happened. The dorms had been eerily calm.

It was unsettling in its own way, knowing he had done… something. 

Katsuki Bakugo didn’t make empty promises. He didn’t just let things slide. Mina had spent the evening wrapped in messy, complicated feelings, wondering how far Katsuki would go to keep his word. Part of her almost wanted him to cross a line—just a little. 

After what Mineta had done, didn’t he deserve it?

But deep down, she also knew she’d hate to see Katsuki get himself expelled over a scumbag like that.

The corner of her mouth quirked upward despite herself.

Slipping into her seat, she shook her head lightly. Mineta, ever the oblivious fool, had no idea the monster he’d just pissed off. If the purple-haired idiot thought he was in the clear just because Katsuki hadn’t flattened half the school last night, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Still, whatever amusement she felt was short-lived.

 The door opened again, and in walked Midoriya.

Mina tensed immediately.

Izuku was usually a walking bundle of sunshine, the kind of person you couldn’t help but feel lighter around. 

Not today. Today, he was …different.

His steps were slow, purposeful. 

His movements flowed with precision, each action controlled and deliberate. Izuku’s emerald-green eyes swept across the classroom once—not too fast, not too slow—before landing squarely on Katsuki. There was no fidgeting, no scribbling in his ever-present notebook, and none of his usual cheery greetings to classmates.

Instead, his expression was calm, eerily so, with his jaw set just enough to suggest restrained power. Mina swallowed hard. The warmth that usually radiated from Izuku had been replaced by something cooler, sharper. There was an undercurrent of danger—a quiet intensity that made her straighten instinctively, like her body recognized a predator before her mind fully caught up.

He looked... dangerous.

Then it happened.

The moment their gazes locked, the entire room seemed to shift. Katsuki, slouched lazily in his seat, uncoiled like a predator stretching after spotting its prey. His lips curled into a smirk, slow and deliberate, and the raw confidence that emanated from him felt nearly suffocating. There was nothing loud or exaggerated about it. 

This was a wolf who knew it had the upper hand and wasn’t in any rush to pounce.

Izuku didn’t say a word. 

He didn’t have to. He gave a single, short nod in response—decisive and exact.

No words. No theatrics. Just a silent exchange of understanding so complete it sent a shiver racing down Mina’s spine.

This was bad.

Katsuki and Izuku working together? 

That wasn’t teamwork. That was a fucking conspiracy—two apex predators closing in on the same target.

When two of the deadliest, most driven guys in the class were on the same page, there was only one possible outcome. And for the first time, Mina found herself feeling sorry for Mineta.

Well…

Almost.

If it weren’t for what he’d done to her—and likely tried to do to others—she might have been more worried about what Katsuki and Izuku had planned. Instead, a grim sense of satisfaction crept over her.

Her gaze darted between the boys, who seemed eerily calm now, both of them moving with the quiet confidence of people who knew they had already won.

Her stomach tightened. 

What the hell are you two planning?

As Izuku approached his desk, he spared Mina a glance—a fleeting but pointed look that spoke volumes. He wasn’t just a strategist today; he was a man on a mission, and somehow, Mina realized, that mission was personal. 

For her.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The air changed the moment they arrived at Ground Beta.

The sprawling industrial training site was already filled with the usual clutter—broken-down cars, mock-up buildings, and obstacles strategically placed for their training scenarios. They’d been here countless times, and it was always a blend of excitement and nerves for the students. 

But today, Mina couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something… off.

Aizawa, as usual, kept things brief. 

He gathered the class together in their gym uniforms and explained the day’s task with his trademark no-nonsense attitude.

“This’ll be a civilian rescue scenario,” he drawled, his scarf swaying slightly in the breeze. “Consider this a full simulation. Treat the obstacles, the injured, and the conditions as real. Civilians need rescuing, but your priority is safety—yours and theirs.”

The class nodded in unison, some more enthusiastically than others. 

Mina tried to focus on the details of the task, but her attention snapped to the figure approaching from the edge of the training field.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Aizawa muttered.

Mina’s heart sank a little as she recognized the distinct small, furred figure making his way toward them. 

Principal Nezu.

Of all days…

Nezu’s appearance immediately heightened her unease. 

It wasn’t that he scared her, exactly—he was small and unassuming in stature, with his pristine white fur and dark, shining eyes. But beneath that innocent exterior was a mind sharper than a thousand knives, capable of unraveling any plot with terrifying precision. 

The fact that no one seemed to know what he was—a mouse, a bear, some terrifying chimera—only added to the mystique.

The principal’s high-pitched, eerily cheery voice carried across the training grounds as he addressed Aizawa. “Oh, don’t mind me, Eraserhead. I’m here to observe! I believe an exercise such as this provides valuable insight—not just into skills but… character.”

Aizawa grunted in acknowledgment. “Just don’t get in the way.”

Nezu chuckled lightly, his high-pitched voice carrying an eerie mix of innocence and cunning. “Oh, I’ll stay out of the way. Don’t mind me at all.”

Despite the assurance, his presence loomed large over the group, like a shadow impossible to ignore. The class collectively shifted, an unspoken tension rippling through the ranks.

Mina watched him with narrowed eyes, her stomach doing a small flip. 

Nezu didn’t just drop by Ground Beta for a routine exercise. 

He always had a reason—a deeper game he was playing that no one ever fully understood until the pieces fell into place, usually at someone else’s expense. And if this had anything to do with Katsuki and Izuku’s hushed plotting…

She barely kept herself from groaning aloud. 

This wasn’t good. 

Whatever they’re doing, they better hope Nezu doesn’t catch on—or worse, decide they’re the ones worth testing today.

But, to her surprise, neither boy reacted overtly to Nezu’s arrival. 

She gnawed on her lip, stealing a glance between the two boys. 

Katsuki looked relaxed—too relaxed—arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised as Aizawa turned to address them. Izuku, meanwhile, tapped his index finger nervously against his thigh in what Mina recognized as his overthinking tick.

Don’t do something reckless, she thought, chewing her cheek. Whatever they had planned, Mina didn’t want them taking risks on her behalf.

Aizawa and Nezu exchanged a few quiet words, their conversation too soft for the students to catch. Then, after a pointed nod from the principal, Aizawa turned back to the group, clearing his throat to grab everyone’s attention.

“All right, listen up,” he began, his tone dry but commanding. 

“Teams will scout Ground Beta to locate and assist civilians in need—members of your class who will act as victims in the simulation. Your job is to bring them back to the rescue tent for evaluation and evacuation.”

Mina tuned in as Aizawa’s sharp gaze swept across the group, lingering a bit too long on Katsuki.

“The purpose of this exercise,” he continued, “is to focus on civilian aid. That’s the area most of you lost points on during the provisional license exam—not combat.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And as much as some of you might want to blow through this with brute force, remember that poor civilian care in a real scenario can cost lives. Treat the scenario like it’s real.”

A smattering of murmurs rippled through the group. 

Mina caught a subtle side-eye from Katsuki, his lip twitching like he was already biting back a complaint. She smirked faintly to herself, knowing the message was meant for him—and possibly a few others who still equated success with explosions and headbutting robots.

“The class will be divided into small teams based on prior teamwork and synergy,” Aizawa continued. He pulled out his tablet, glancing at the screen. “You’ll have thirty minutes to complete the exercise. Points will be tallied based on efficiency, creativity, and how well you interact with civilians. The security bots,” he added, gesturing vaguely toward the mock debris field where a few mechanical heads poked out, “will monitor your performance for bonus points.”

Mina nodded along as he read off the teams. 

She smiled when she heard her grouping—she’d been paired with Tsuyu and Momo, two people she’d worked well with in the past. 

They had a good balance: Momo’s sharp intellect, Tsuyu’s calm pragmatism, and Mina’s spontaneity.

The rest of the pairings fell into place without much surprise… until one caught her attention.

Izuku, Denki, and Minoru?

Her brows furrowed as the trio was announced. 

Could that be a coincidence? 

She bit back the thought and listened carefully. Aizawa followed up with Katsuki’s group: him, Eijiro, and Todoroki—another grouping that made logical sense. She tapped her chin in thought.

Aizawa had said the groups were formed based on prior teamwork and synergy, but when had Izuku ever worked with Mineta? 

The only example she could think of was the USJ attack—and all Mineta had done then was cower behind Izuku while everyone else fought for their lives.

Mina’s unease grew, suspicion prickling the back of her neck. 

She glanced toward Katsuki, who didn’t so much as blink at his group assignment but gave the faintest hint of a smirk when Izuku’s was announced.

Her train of thought derailed slightly when Aizawa moved on to explain the schedule. One team would run the simulation first while the rest acted as civilians, then roles would switch. All the girls had been placed as the civilians for the first round, with the boys as rescuers.

 Aizawa mentioned something about the teams being split by gender “for ease of coordination,” but Mina wasn’t so sure.

She tried to focus, imagining herself playing the role of a helpless civilian, but her mind wandered to the idea of Katsuki doing the same in the second round. 

The mental image made her giggle quietly to herself—Katsuki Bakugo acting injured and in need of rescuing? She could only picture him screaming “I’M FINE, I DON’T NEED ANY HELP!” while pretending to limp his way out of the disaster zone.

She glanced toward him again, expecting to catch the usual scowl, but what she saw instead sent a ripple of nerves through her.

Izuku cracked his knuckles absently, the gesture too deliberate to feel casual. 

It wasn’t his nervous habit—Mina knew those. This was calculated. Beside him, Katsuki shifted his stance just slightly, crossing his arms in a way that seemed almost… watchful.

Whatever they had planned was going down now.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The members of Class 2-A moved with practiced efficiency, each assuming their assigned positions for the day's exercise. Above Ground Beta, the nerve center of the operation buzzed with activity. 

From within the sleek surveillance building, Principal Nezu reclined in his seat with an air of serene confidence, a porcelain cup of tea balanced delicately between his paws. Steam curled upward, mingling with the faint hum of machinery. His dark eyes gleamed as they scanned the wall of screens before him. 

"This setup should challenge them," Nezu mused, his voice chipper but laden with unspoken undertones.

Beside him, Aizawa leaned against the console, his arms folded as his sharp gaze flitted from screen to screen. Every muscle in his frame seemed poised for action, a quiet intensity rolling off him in waves. “They’ve dealt with worse," he said after a pause, his tone deliberate, measured—but not without a trace of skepticism. 

“They’re competent,” Aizawa said eventually, though his tone lacked full conviction.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Nezu replied, the corner of his mouth twitching into a knowing smile. Aizawa’s brow furrowed slightly. For some reason, it felt like they were talking about two completely different things.

Aizawa didn’t trust that smile.

“Is everything in position?” Nezu asked, his voice as light and chipper as ever.

“I believe so,” Aizawa replied, crossing his arms. “The boys are on the field, and the girls have already taken up their roles.” He hesitated for a moment before narrowing his eyes at Nezu. “Wanna tell me now why you hijacked my training? How exactly are gender-split teams supposed to make them better heroes?”

Aizawa sighed as he finished, his irritation barely hidden beneath his flat tone.

“Mm, I do believe that will become clear in the near future,” Nezu said, his smile widening just enough to make Aizawa’s hackles rise. “But to answer your second question—it’s for their safety. That’s what all of this is about, no?”

Aizawa grunted in reply, unimpressed and unconvinced. His doubts about Nezu’s motivations lingered, but his attention shifted unwillingly to the intercom as Nezu reached for the button.

“Let the exercise begin,” Nezu announced brightly, his cheerful tone at odds with the tension simmering beneath the surface.

The first phase of the exercise unfolded with methodical precision. 

As Aizawa expected, the boys moved swiftly to strategize. The air was charged with a competitive but cooperative energy as the teams debated tactics. Ultimately, most teams opted to stay together, ensuring greater safety and streamlined communication as they navigated the simulated chaos.

But one team deviated. 

Midoriya, Kaminari, and Mineta opted to split up—a decision that drew Aizawa’s attention immediately. Midoriya, the perennial team player and strategist, wasn’t one to favor splitting his resources. 

This choice set off alarm bells in Aizawa’s mind.

Watching their deliberations on the screen, he saw Midoriya make his case. “It’ll be faster this way,” Izuku said, his tone firm but deceptively casual. “We can each cover different areas and reach the civilians quicker. I trust you guys to get the job done.”

That last part hung in the air. 

Izuku’s words lingered on Mineta in particular—a carefully placed statement, Aizawa noted with interest. Mineta, predictably, puffed up with self-importance, eagerly agreeing with the plan.

“Trusting him?” Aizawa muttered under his breath. His sharp eyes narrowed at the screen as Mineta's retreating figure became smaller. “That’s bold—even for Midoriya.”

Nezu chuckled beside him, the sound annoyingly rich with amusement. “Boldness is a key quality in leadership, don’t you agree?”

Ignoring him, Aizawa’s gaze darted between the monitors, trying to piece together the underlying currents. Something wasn’t adding up. Midoriya was precise, methodical—nearly obsessive when it came to detail. 

But there was an edge to him today, a deliberateness that went beyond problem-solving.

“Nezu,” Aizawa said suddenly. His tone, sharp and low, wiped the lingering smile off Nezu’s face.

“Yes?” the principal replied.

“If you think this is just a rescue exercise, you’re either underestimating these students…” Aizawa straightened and shifted his focus entirely to the screen showing Izuku. “Or you know something you’re not sharing.”

Nezu’s only answer was the sly twinkle in his eyes.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He should have known something was up the moment the little rat had shown up at his office uninvited the day before.

The knock at his door had been perfunctory—a courtesy, not a request. 

Nezu didn’t even pause to wait for a reply before letting himself in. Aizawa, hunched over a stack of notes, glanced up irritably. He had just been about to wrap things up for the evening, ready to head home after a long day. What a pain.

“Hello, Aizawa,” Nezu greeted cheerfully, clasping his tiny paws together as he peered around the office. “Are you reviewing plans for tomorrow’s exercise?”

The way Nezu lingered just inside the doorway was strange. 

Usually, the principal was content to leave him to his work—one of the few perks of working under someone as unpredictable as Nezu was his general trust in Aizawa's ability to manage his own lesson plans. 

But this was different. 

Nezu had never gone out of his way to take an interest in his day-to-day training. Aizawa's mind bristled with an edge of suspicion, but his exhaustion kept him from chasing the thought too far.

He set his pen down. “What do you need?” he asked, tone curt but not entirely unfriendly.

Nezu’s ever-present smile widened just a fraction as he stepped further inside. “Oh, nothing too taxing. I wanted to check in, perhaps take a look at what you’ve planned. A routine evaluation, if you will.”

Aizawa frowned. 

Now this is weird. 

“It’s a basic rescue exercise,” he replied, his voice flat as he leaned back in his chair. “Standard scenario: rescuing civilians. Most of the students could use a refresher on treating injuries and handling panicked victims. This should give them a solid challenge without being overwhelming.”

Nezu’s sharp ears twitched, his expression polite but unreadable. “Mind sharing a few more details? I may need to make a few... adjustments.”

That caught Aizawa’s full attention. He folded his arms across his chest, his brows furrowing. 

“Adjustments? Since when do you take issue with my training plans?”

“Oh, I trust your judgment implicitly,” Nezu replied smoothly, brushing imaginary dust from his tiny coat. “However, let’s call it… taking an opportunity where it presents itself. I recently had an intriguing conversation that made me wonder if this particular exercise might be enhanced with a few tweaks.”

Aizawa’s frown deepened. Nezu only got vague like this when he was up to something.

“What kind of tweaks are you talking about?”

Nezu hopped into a seat opposite the desk, folding his paws in front of him. “Consider them small modifications for safety and fairness. Gender-split teams, for instance. It’s something worth exploring.”

“Why?” Aizawa shot back, his tone laced with exasperation. “What does that accomplish? Since when does splitting them up like that improve safety?”

“Let’s just say it’s relevant,” Nezu replied, his smile now unmistakably cunning. 

“And as I mentioned, this is purely precautionary. I’d hate for anything to interfere with such an important exercise. Wouldn’t you?”

The way he said it, light as his tone was, only made Aizawa more suspicious. 

“...What aren’t you telling me?” Aizawa asked, voice low and sharp.

“Me?” Nezu gave an exaggerated expression of innocence, resting a paw against his chest. “I’m simply ensuring everything goes smoothly. Incidentally, I might have had a visitor earlier with an intriguing hypothetical scenario.”

Aizawa didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Who?”

Nezu leaned back in his chair, folding his legs neatly. “Young Midoriya. He stopped by earlier today with what I suspect was a rather thinly veiled suggestion regarding... let’s call it an observed classroom dynamic.”

That got a rise out of Aizawa. “And?”

“And,” Nezu continued, “Midoriya suggested—quite passionately, I might add—that we incorporate some specific changes into this exercise to account for potential issues. He even offered a list of adjustments, citing the possibility of unfair dynamics or oversight that could risk their safety.”

That was unusual, to put it mildly. 

Izuku was methodical, intelligent, and respectful of authority. But this—going over Aizawa’s head directly to Nezu and pushing for such drastic changes—wasn’t his usual behavior.

“You agreed to this?” Aizawa said, narrowing his eyes at Nezu, the bite in his tone unmistakable.

“I make it a habit to listen carefully when a student who rarely advocates for change suddenly insists on it,” Nezu replied. “Midoriya's logic was impeccable, and truthfully, I find it hard to resist his determination when he insists I be… useful. Wouldn’t you? He didn’t tell me any specifics, but i’m sure we need to be on the lookout for strange behavior.”

Aizawa exhaled slowly through his nose, still trying to piece the entire puzzle together. 

If Izuku was behind this—that meant Katsuki probably wasn’t far behind. Those two were volatile on their own, but together? They were terrifyingly efficient when their goals aligned.

And with Nezu in their corner, it was clear the operation was already in motion.

Aizawa’s eyes flicked back to the monitors lining the surveillance wall, scanning for anything out of place. From the surface, everything appeared normal. 

Too normal.

On one screen, Midoriya’s team huddled together, reviewing their approach to the simulation with the kind of strategic focus that Aizawa had come to expect from his most analytical student. Izuku outlined where they should search, and the three members quickly agreed to split up. Kaminari wandered off toward the western sector, visibly excited by the challenge, while Mineta trudged reluctantly toward the mock rubble at the eastern edge of Ground Beta.

Aizawa leaned forward as Midoriya headed toward his assigned area. 

The boy’s movements seemed casual enough at first—until he paused at the corner of a collapsed structure where Jirou was stationed. 

Jirou, playing the role of a civilian, was seated on a crate, looking convincingly disoriented but otherwise unharmed. If Aizawa remembered her briefing correctly, she was supposed to portray someone with minor injuries who could make it back to the tents on her own. It was one of the simpler rescue scenarios.

Izuku knelt in front of her, calm and composed. 

He introduced himself with what Aizawa assumed was his hero name, his posture calm and professional. From what Aizawa could see on the monitor, he followed all the right steps: asking routine questions to assess her condition and gesturing toward the rescue tents with clear directions.

Aizawa couldn’t hear what was being said—there was no audio feed, too many screens for them to all play at once—but the interaction looked flawless, almost too polished. A textbook display of heroics.

Midoriya even patted Jirou lightly on the shoulder before stepping away, his body language exuding calm encouragement as she moved toward the tents. Then, without hesitation, he turned and continued toward his designated sector, leaving Aizawa to narrow his eyes at the screen.

Something about the encounter nagged at Aizawa.

Midoriya tapped his ear, a subtle but unmistakable gesture. 

Aizawa’s sharp eyes caught the glint of something metallic tucked against his earlobe. Was that an earpiece? That wasn’t part of this exercise. Where had he gotten it? And more importantly, why was he using it?

Aizawa’s fingers moved instinctively over the controls, isolating the audio feed from Midoriya’s channel. Static filled the room for a split second before a quiet voice came through.

“--got it. Everything’s going according to plan.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. Plan?

Quickly, he scanned the other monitors until he spotted Katsuki Bakugo. 

Unlike Midoriya, Katsuki wasn’t making any overt moves. He stalked through the simulated disaster zone with practiced ease, his expression almost bored as he carried out the exercise. But there were subtle tells. Every now and then, Katsuki would adjust his movements slightly, like he was deliberately keeping a certain distance from others—surveilling the area.

Aizawa wasn’t fooled. The kid was up to something.

He glanced at Nezu, whose knowing expression had only deepened. The principal’s dark eyes shone with intrigue, a playful smirk tugging at his mouth as he sipped delicately from his tea.

“So,” Aizawa asked, his tone low and pointed, “Midoriya didn’t tell you anything about his plan? Or why these ‘changes’ he suggested were so important?”

“No, he did not,” Nezu replied, his voice deceptively light. 

“And I did not ask.”

“You didn’t ask?” Aizawa’s brows furrowed. “You just gave him the green light to overhaul my training exercise without questioning it?”

“Not an overhaul,” Nezu corrected, tilting his head with an air of innocence. “Simply a few… modifications. Besides, young Midoriya’s reasoning was logical and well-presented. I found it charmingly bold.”

Aizawa stared at him, unimpressed. “Logical enough to risk undermining an entire exercise?”

Nezu chuckled, clearly unfazed. “Oh, I don’t think it’s undermining anything. On the contrary, I suspect it’ll make the experience far more illuminating.”

“For who, exactly?”

“For everyone,” Nezu replied, setting his teacup down with a delicate clink. “Let’s not pretend we don’t know these students, Eraserhead. Midoriya and Bakugo aren’t simply passively following instructions today. They’re testing something, and likely themselves in the process. As for what role we play in this…” He tapped his clawed finger against the edge of his chair, his smile widening. “I suspect we’ll both figure that out soon enough.”

Aizawa grunted, resisting the urge to rub his temples. 

He turned back to the monitors.

Onscreen, Midoriya stopped near a debris pile, scanning his surroundings before stepping carefully over a beam. He looked entirely in character—focused, determined, and professional. But when he raised a hand to adjust his earpiece again, Aizawa caught the faint flicker of his lips. Midoriya wasn’t muttering. 

He was smiling.

“Damn it, Midoriya,” Aizawa muttered under his breath. “What are you up to?”

As he watched the team’s movements unfold, that nagging suspicion at the back of his mind grew louder. Midoriya’s perfect civilian rescue. Bakugo’s deliberate nonchalance. Mineta, so far removed from them both, struggling through the simulation with none of his usual sly enthusiasm.

Aizawa’s gaze lingered on Bakugo’s monitor again. 

Unlike Midoriya, Katsuki wasn’t wired—or at least not obviously so. 

But his actions were just as deliberate, his shoulders braced with a level of tension that suggested he wasn’t simply navigating obstacles. He wasn’t just playing along with the exercise; he was waiting.

For what?

Aizawa straightened, eyes narrowing as he toggled between feeds. “Nezu,” he said abruptly, his voice tight.

“Yes, Aizawa?” Nezu replied, his tone infuriatingly calm.

“If those two idiots get themselves into trouble,” Aizawa muttered darkly, “you’re cleaning up the mess.”

Nezu’s chuckle filled the room, soft but unsettling. “Oh, I think you underestimate them. Or perhaps,” he mused, “they’re about to prove just how much they’ve learned under your careful watch.”

Aizawa clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the screens rather than letting Nezu’s cryptic smile burrow further under his skin. Whatever was about to unfold, Aizawa couldn’t let himself be caught off-guard. 

His job now was to observe—and to act if things spiraled out of control.

It wasn’t entirely unusual for Bakugo and Midoriya to work together these days. 

Over the past year, the two had grown closer—so close, in fact, that Aizawa had to remind them of dorm rules more than once. No visitors after 10 pm wasn’t just a guideline. Yet even with this newfound camaraderie, Bakugo and Midoriya couldn’t help but bicker and snipe at one another whenever they worked side-by-side. 

Competitiveness was ingrained in both of them, and that tension always made itself known, usually in the form of near-catastrophic attempts to one-up each other.

But today? Nothing. Not a single argument.

Instead, Bakugo had stayed curiously silent, letting Kirishima and Todoroki take the lead. Midoriya, meanwhile, had helped Jirou but done little else to assert himself or rack up points. 

They weren’t competing. 

They weren’t leading. 

They were waiting.

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed as Kirishima and Todoroki spotted Tsuyu in the area ahead. The boys shouted her name, waving her over, and sprinted off together to assist her. The scene played out like any other standard rescue exercise—quick coordination and teamwork, executed well.

But Bakugo stayed behind.

He didn’t call out or follow after them. 

Instead, his sharp gaze trailed after his teammates for only a moment before he turned and headed in the opposite direction. Aizawa’s lips thinned as he watched Bakugo raise a hand to his ear, tapping it in what was now an infuriatingly familiar gesture.

So he is wired.... What the hell are they saying to each other?

Aizawa strained to make out even a snippet of dialogue, but nothing came through clearly. Whatever frequency Bakugo and Midoriya were on was too subtle, too private. For the first time in a long while, Aizawa cursed the limitations of UA’s surveillance equipment.

Bakugo veered further off-course, moving toward Midoriya’s team’s designated zone. His posture was deliberate, his strides tense but measured, like a predator zeroing in on its target.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his chest tightening. 

Then it clicked. Bakugo wasn’t heading toward Midoriya. He was heading for…

Mineta.

Aizawa sat bolt upright, his eyes darting between the monitors.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

The uneasy puzzle pieces fell into place, each sharper and more damning than the last. Of course this had to do with Mineta. Who else could incite such focus from both Bakugo and Midoriya? And if Bakugo had set his sights on that little sleazebag, there was no telling what might happen.

If Bakugo laid so much as a hand on Mineta, Aizawa would have no way to shield him from the fallout, no matter how much he may want to.

He was an undeniably talented student, but if Bakugo’s temper flared too far…

The history with Mineta gnawed at Aizawa’s thoughts, bitter and maddening. 

He’d wanted that problem student gone since year one, but powerful parents and politics tied his hands at every turn. And the one loophole Aizawa used to deal with students who showed no promise—his infamous expulsion policy—was more complex than people realized.

Yes, he expelled students. 

Entire classes, if necessary. But it wasn’t an immediate game over, as the rumors claimed. Expelled students could reapply to UA if they passed provisional courses elsewhere. It was a system meant to teach resilience and inspire improvement.

But Aizawa couldn’t risk that with Mineta. 

The thought of giving him another shot—another chance to slither through the cracks—was unbearable. He rather him be under his watch so he could step in when needed.

But, if Bakugo was heading for Mineta, there could only be one reason.

Perhaps Aizawa hadn’t been paying as much attention to the boy as he should have.

Aizawa’s mind flickered back to a recent homeroom discussion. 

Kirishima, always casual and cheerful, had mentioned something offhand about Bakugo comforting Mina in the common room. Aizawa had assumed it was a poorly executed joke, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Bakugo knew something more. 

Maybe Mina had told him something.

If Bakugo had found out that Mineta had harassed Mina—or worse—Aizawa had no doubt what the hot-headed teen’s first instinct would be. Bakugo would want revenge, plain and simple.

But this couldn’t be about revenge alone. Not with Midoriya involved. The boy was too calculating, too careful with everyone in Class 2-A to allow anything reckless.

Midoriya wouldn’t let Bakugo take it too far. Would he?

Aizawa’s eyes flicked to Nezu, still calm and poised, sipping his tea as though the world wasn’t moments away from detonation. “You’re awfully quiet,” Aizawa said sharply.

“Oh, I have my suspicions about what will happen next,” Nezu replied, his tone airy. “Don’t you?”

“You knew,” Aizawa muttered, his frustration boiling just beneath the surface. “About Mineta. About what they’re planning.”

Nezu’s smile remained enigmatic. “I know a great many things, Aizawa. But sometimes, it’s best to let things… evolve organically. Besides,” he added, tilting his cup slightly, “I suspect this particular situation will resolve itself soon enough. Don’t you agree?”

Aizawa turned away, biting down on his retort. He had to trust the boys—had to believe Midoriya wouldn’t let Bakugo cross the line. But doubt gnawed at the back of his mind.

What if Bakugo had already decided there was no line?

What if Midoriya decided Mineta deserved what was coming?

Aizawa forced himself to stay seated, his fists clenching. His role wasn’t to intervene unless absolutely necessary. 

For now, he had to watch.

Aizawa’s gaze locked onto the screen as Bakugo caught up to Mineta, who—predictably—hadn’t been doing anything remotely useful. 

While the rest of the class threw themselves into the exercise, Mineta was meandering around the outskirts of Ground Beta, fiddling with his costume and occasionally glancing toward the tents as though scoping something out.

Typical.

As Bakugo approached, his strides deliberate but unhurried, Aizawa noticed a change. 

The explosive blond had been quieter than usual all day, his movements restrained, his temper suspiciously reined in. Now, though, it was as if a switch flipped. Bakugo slipped on the mask he wore so effortlessly—the one that screamed “arrogant hothead.” His body language shifted; he cracked his neck and his knuckles, the picture of someone spoiling for a fight.

Aizawa’s brow furrowed. 

Bakugo could weaponize emotions when he wanted, switching personas to suit the moment with unsettling ease. The boy had always had layers, but this level of controlled transformation was… alarming. 

He made a mental note: Bakugo Katsuki might require closer attention in the future.

On the screen, Bakugo’s voice rang out, sharp and unapologetically crass. “Oi! Fuck face!”

Aizawa couldn’t suppress a dry thought. What a poet.

Mineta, startled, turned abruptly. He hadn’t even noticed Bakugo’s approach, and his expression immediately twisted into a mix of irritation and unease.

“What the hell do you want?” Mineta shot back, his voice as slimy as ever, though it wavered just slightly under Bakugo’s intensity.

“You find any civilians yet?” Bakugo’s tone dripped with venom, a dangerous grin playing at the edge of his lips. “Or are you too busy jacking off like the useless shit you are?”

Mineta flinched, his gaze darting nervously around the mock disaster zone as if checking for an audience. “Tch! I’ll have you know I’ve helped so many girls already!” he snapped, his bravado ringing false. Then, under his breath—but loud enough for Bakugo to hear—he muttered, “Probably touched more than you...”

The comment hit like a firecracker. 

Aizawa could see Bakugo’s jaw tighten, the smallest twitch betraying the restraint beneath his controlled mask. His shoulders stiffened, and for half a second, Aizawa thought he might snap right then and there.

But Bakugo surprised him. 

Instead of exploding, he rolled his eyes in exaggerated irritation and waved a dismissive hand. “What the fuck ever,” he growled, his voice almost casual. “If you actually wanna stop being a fucking waste of space for five seconds, go check the goddamn rescue tents.”

Mineta frowned, his face twisting in confusion. “Why the hell would I do that? Isn’t that what the recovery bots are for?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bakugo shot back, sarcasm lacing every word, “but just ’cause they say this is a rescue drill doesn’t mean it’s safe, dipshit. What if there’s a second wave of villains or some shit? Someone needs to check the tents. Make sure none of the dumbasses pretending to be injured are actually hurting themselves lying there, waiting for you losers to get your asses in gear.”

Mineta blinked, still clearly processing Bakugo’s aggressive tirade. “And why aren’t you doing it?”

“Because I’m not you,” Bakugo snapped, his expression hardening. “Do I look like someone who’s gonna wipe some moron’s nose while there’s still people out there waiting for me to fucking save them? Nah. That’s your job, ‘hero.’”

The last word dripped with enough sarcasm to fill a river.

Mineta puffed up, clearly desperate to salvage what little pride he had left. “Fine,” he spat. “But don’t come crying to me when you miss out on your big moment, Bakugo.”

Bakugo snorted. “Don’t care. Just get your slimy ass moving before I kick it there myself.”

Mineta grumbled something incoherent before reluctantly turning and shuffling toward the rescue tents. Bakugo stood still for a moment, watching him leave with a look Aizawa recognized all too well—contempt barely leashed beneath calculated calm.

The moment Mineta disappeared into the rubble-strewn corridors, Bakugo tapped his earpiece again. Aizawa, sitting bolt upright, caught the faintest trace of his voice as he muttered into the receiver.

“He’s heading there now. Keep an eye out.”

Aizawa switched his gaze to the feed showing Midoriya. 

Izuku stood a fair distance from the tents, casually pacing near a pile of mock debris. His demeanor was calm, but there was an intensity in his eyes, a focus that suggested he was prepared for what came next.

Something about the precision of it all—the choreography between Bakugo and Midoriya—sent a chill up Aizawa’s spine. 

They’d orchestrated this. 

Mineta wasn’t just being sent to the rescue tents; he was being herded.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Stupid fucking Bakugo.

Perfect in every way except for that attitude.

Minoru scowled as he trudged along, fists clenched at his sides. 

Who did Bakugo think he was, anyway? Strutting around like he owned the place, like he was UA’s golden boy. Sure, he was strong, but he wasn’t that great. Hell, all Bakugo really had going for him were those stupid muscles. 

And the stupid hair. And maybe the stupid, perfect aim with every explosion.

Ugh, whatever.

What really pissed Minoru off was how everyone else ate it up. 

Especially the girls. 

Oh, he wasn’t dumb—he’d seen Ashido giggle around Bakugo more times than he could count (he wasn’t even that funny), glancing at him from the corner of her eye like he was some kind of Greek god. And Uraraka? Don’t even get him started on her. She couldn’t go two seconds without sneaking a look at Bakugo, practically drooling anytime he stretched or rolled up his sleeves.

And Midoriya? What the hell was up with him?

It wasn’t enough that he was an annoyingly goody-goody, but he followed Bakugo around like some kind of lovesick puppy. They’d gone from fighting like mortal enemies to some weird… bromance… or whatever. 

It was disgusting.

Minoru scuffed the ground with his foot, kicking up a cloud of dust and glaring at nothing in particular. His bad mood only made the heat from the exercise feel worse.

Still, as much as he hated Bakugo’s guts, the blonde had pointed him toward the rescue tents, and now that he was thinking about it…

Smokin’ hot babes as damsels in distress? Sign me up.

His lips curled into a sly grin as he abandoned any lingering anger. 

This wasn’t such a bad gig. 

The other guys were off running themselves ragged through Ground Beta, and here he was—free to “check in” on the ladies, play the concerned hero, and maybe get a little closer to the people who mattered most. The girls were so into heroes—real heroes—someone confident and assertive, not meek and awkward like Midoriya or fake-tough like Bakugo.

Minoru hummed to himself as he approached the line of tents. 

His unease was fully replaced by giddy anticipation, his steps lighter now. His beady eyes scanned the area as he walked, making note of every detail. Most of the tents were clustered toward the far left side, where he spotted a few faint shadows moving through the fabric. 

That was definitely where most of the girls were—and definitely worth checking out later.

His gaze shifted to the far right. 

One tent stood off on its own, smaller, quieter. The opening flap was closed, and no movement came from inside. But the faint outline of a body could be seen lying on the cot, just barely visible through the fabric.

Perfect.

Mineta’s heart thumped in his chest, a thrill running up his spine. 

He darted a quick glance over his shoulder. The coast was clear—none of the other guys were around. He even scanned the rubble-strewn area beyond the tents, just in case some nosy asshole tried to ruin his fun. 

Nothing.

He crept toward the tent, a sly grin plastered across his face. 

This was his moment. 

Stupid Bakugo thought he could boss him around? Well, Minoru was the one winning here.

Reaching the tent, he pulled back the fabric covering the entrance, just enough to peek inside. The dim light outside barely filtered in, casting long shadows across the space. It was dark—too dark to make out much detail—but the figure on the cot was unmistakable. Someone was lying there, facing away, a blanket pulled up over their shoulders.

The grin on his face widened. This is too good.

He stepped inside, letting the flap fall back into place behind him. The quiet rustle of the fabric seemed to echo in the still air, but Mineta ignored it. His attention was locked on the person lying before him.

He stepped closer.

His gaze flicked down, noting the bandages wrapped around the figure’s arm and the splint on their leg. 

Whoever it was, they looked vulnerable—helpless even.

His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to reach out. He took another step forward, leaning in closer, close enough now to hear the soft sound of breathing from the figure on the cot. His own breath hitched in his throat. This wasn’t just any rescue—it was practically a dream scenario.

He crouched slightly, his voice dropping into what he must have thought was smooth, but was nothing more than a clumsy mix of feigned confidence and sleaze.

“Hey there,” he murmured, his voice oozing faux charm. “Looks like you’re all alone. Lucky for you, Minoru Mineta is here.”

The figure didn’t move, didn’t react. Their stillness fed his delusions, twisting the scene further in his mind.

“Now, let’s see that smokin’ hot bod—”

A creak.

Mineta froze, his words caught mid-sentence.

It was faint, subtle. 

A sound that shouldn’t have mattered—but in that charged moment, it echoed like a gunshot. His head jerked up, and his eyes flickered to the tent flap, which seemed to tremble just slightly as though disturbed by a breeze. 

But there was no wind.

He glanced nervously back at the figure on the cot, licking his lips again to hide the dryness creeping into his mouth. His throat felt tight now, his initial excitement beginning to sour at the edges. But he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t stop. 

You’ve come this far, Minoru.

With more hesitation than he wanted to admit, he leaned down over the figure. His voice dropped lower, quieter.

“Hey, you awake?” he whispered. His heart raced in anticipation, his nerves buzzing in conflict with his darker urges.

The figure didn’t answer, didn’t so much as shift.

Mineta grinned, a sick sort of relief rushing through him. 

Even better.

His hand hovered, shaking slightly as it reached toward the blanket. His heart pounded in his ears as his fingers grazed the fabric, gripping it lightly. Slowly, he began to peel it back—just enough to reveal a shoulder, smooth and bandaged beneath the dim light seeping into the tent.

The breath he released was almost a shudder, an involuntary sound that made him feel both powerful and pathetic in the same moment. “See?” he murmured. “No need to be shy. I can make you feel good all over–”

The creak came again, louder this time, accompanied by a subtle thud.

Mineta whipped his head around, his pulse spiking. “Who’s there?” he demanded, the false bravado in his voice doing nothing to mask the note of panic creeping in.

Nothing answered but the silence.

He exhaled shakily, sweat collecting at the nape of his neck. His eyes darted back to the figure on the cot. But now, the once vulnerable scene felt different. Mineta glanced at the cot again, trying to steady himself. 

It was fine. 

He was overreacting. 

Nothing was happening. 

This was his moment, dammit, and no stupid creaking sound was going to ruin it.

Gathering the last of his fleeting courage, he leaned in one final time, this time reaching for the figure’s shoulder. He grinned nervously, almost giggling to himself to shake off the discomfort.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re nice and safe…” he started, his voice trembling just slightly as his hand inched closer.

But before he could touch the shoulder, a shadow passed across the tent flap. It wasn’t subtle this time, and the flap rustled faintly, as if someone had just shifted outside.

“Who’s there?!” he barked, spinning around with a sudden burst of fear. His voice cracked, his confidence now utterly drained.

The flap slowly moved, pulling to the side. The moment stretched endlessly as two silhouettes emerged in the dim light.

The first figure stepped inside, and Mineta’s blood ran cold. Green eyes sharp and deliberate, their usual kindness absent, stared him down. Midoriya’s voice was anything but soft, but the intensity behind it made Mineta’s knees weak.

“Mineta,” Midoriya said calmly. “What are you doing?”

Mineta’s stomach plummeted, his hand retreating from the cot as if burned. “I—I—nothing!” he stammered. “What are you—why are you here?!”

A second shadow appeared at the entrance, and the flap slammed shut behind it with a loud thwap. Bakugo stood there, arms crossed, his glare icy and dangerous. When he spoke, his voice was low, but every word was a threat.

“Yeah, what the fuck are you doing?” Bakugo said, his lips curling into a snarl. 

The unease curdling in Mineta’s chest turned to dread. 

Something about their presence, their stillness, wasn’t right.

This wasn’t happenstance.

This was a setup.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Izuku had felt a lot of things when Kacchan told him what had happened to Mina.

Shock, at first—a sharp jolt of disbelief that crackled through his mind, fleeting but visceral. It wasn’t that he doubted Kacchan’s words. No, not for a second. Katsuki’s anger, the fire behind every word he spat, left no room for questioning. 

But Mineta? He’d always been a sleaze, sure, but this?

Then came the nausea. 

A hollow, twisting pit in his stomach that made it hard to breathe. 

Izuku could see it clearly in his mind, even though Katsuki hadn’t given him details, refused to—Mina’s tears, her humiliation, her pain. She was one of the kindest, strongest people Izuku knew. 

And someone they trusted had done this to her.

The nausea gave way to anger—a flood, burning and suffocating, roaring so loudly in his head that for a moment, it drowned out Kacchan’s voice entirely.

“Deku! Damn it, listen to me!”

Izuku barely registered the hands gripping his shoulders, squeezing tightly enough to anchor him but not enough to hurt. He was already half-standing, ready to storm out of the dorm, ready to find Mineta, ready to call it “combat training” and make the consequences worth it.

“Izuku, stop!”

Kacchan’s voice cut through the haze like a thunderclap. 

Izuku blinked, realizing his fists were clenched, trembling with the effort of holding himself in place. Katsuki’s face swam into focus.

Katsuki.

His fingers dug into Izuku’s shoulders harder, like he was trying to anchor him in place. 

“You think I don’t wanna rip that sick bastard apart?! You think I don’t wanna make him wish he never fucking existed?!”

The room felt electric, like their rage was about to tear the walls apart. But even in his explosive fury, Izuku caught something underneath Kacchan’s voice—something that made him pause.

“And yeah, I wanna beat his shitty little face till it’s fucking unrecognizable,” Katsuki continued, his words slicing through the air, brutal and vicious, every syllable dripping with raw hatred. “But what the hell do we get outta that? Huh? What the fuck does pounding his disgusting ass into the ground do except get us expelled?”

Izuku opened his mouth to argue, his chest still heaving, but Katsuki cut him off, shoving him back toward the edge of the bed.

“No. I’m serious, nerd. Think about it.” Katsuki’s voice wavered for just a second—just long enough for Izuku to notice. 

His blazing red eyes, usually so filled with stubborn arrogance, had a crack in them now. Not weakness, not even uncertainty—just… desperation.

Katsuki pressed his hands flat against Izuku’s chest, forcing him down just enough that his green-haired companion had no choice but to stay. His lips curled into a snarl as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice, though it didn’t lose an ounce of its venom.

“I don’t just wanna kick him out of class, Deku,” Katsuki hissed. “I want more. I want this little bastard fucking gone. Expelled. Stripped of that half-ass provisional license like the fraud he is. Blacklisted from every single damn hero school in the country. He doesn’t deserve to be here, and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve to call himself a fucking hero.”

Izuku blinked, his heart pounding harder, but this time for a different reason. 

The red that had clouded his vision began to ebb slightly, and Katsuki’s words cut through his spiraling thoughts.

Katsuki wasn’t just angry—he was furious. 

Furious in a way Izuku hadn’t seen since they were kids. 

But beneath that fury was something deeper, something unspoken and raw. Katsuki’s hands trembled, his grip tight enough to bruise, but the edges of his anger weren’t just burning—they were controlled. 

Calculated.

“And if it were up to me,” Katsuki said, his voice dropping even lower, almost to a whisper, “I’d get that fucker behind bars. That’s what I really want. But we can’t do any of that if you go running off half-cocked, breaking his shitty nose, or blowing your damn cover.” His lips pulled back in a snarl, his sharp teeth glinting like a wolf warning off its prey. “Think, nerd. For once in your damn life, use that big fucking brain of yours before you get us both fucking expelled.”

Izuku stared at him, his breath catching in his throat. Katsuki was furious, seething with a barely contained rage that was like a dam about to burst—but he wasn’t letting it break. 

Not yet.

“Kacchan…” Izuku said, his voice trembling slightly. His anger began to mix with shame and guilt for his rashness.

“Deku,” Katsuki’s voice was razor-sharp, his hands gripping Izuku’s shoulders with an intensity that left no room for argument. “You don’t get to call the shots on this one. You’re with me, got it? We’re taking this bastard down the right way—clean, airtight, so there’s no way he can squirm out of it. And if that doesn’t work...” Katsuki leaned in, his crimson eyes blazing with unfiltered fury. 

“Trust me—I’ll be the first in line to smash that motherfucker’s face in.”

The room fell silent, except for the sound of their heavy breathing.

Katsuki stepped back slightly, his shoulders still tense, but his grip loosening. 

He gestured for Izuku to sit on the bed, and when Izuku finally did, Katsuki followed, flopping down beside him and running his hands through his hair. For a moment, the rage that had filled the room felt muted, but not gone.

“You know what she said to me?” Katsuki muttered suddenly, his voice quieter, though the tension was still there. He didn’t wait for Izuku to answer. “She said she thought she’d done something wrong. Thought it was her fault.”

Izuku froze, his heart sinking.

“And all I could think was, how the hell did I not see it? How the fuck did we not see it?” Katsuki’s teeth clenched as he looked away, his voice thick with frustration.

Izuku didn’t know what to say. 

But he knew one thing with absolute certainty.

“I’m with you, Kacchan,” he said softly, but firmly. “We’ll do this the right way. Together.”

Katsuki’s jaw flexed, and for just a second, he nodded. The fire in his eyes flared again, but this time it burned with focus and purpose.

And from that moment on, they both knew Mineta’s time was running out.

Katsuki and Izuku stayed in Katsuki’s room for hours, the passage of time marked only by the soft glow of their laptop screens and the persistent rustle of papers as they shifted through UA’s rules and guidelines. Both were determined to find the perfect loopholes and safeguards to ensure their plan couldn’t be dismissed—or worse, backfire on them. 

If they had any chance of getting Mineta expelled, they had to leave no room for error.

“Izuku.” Katsuki’s sharp voice broke through the silence. Izuku looked up from his laptop to see Katsuki adjusting his reading glasses—a detail that might have seemed funny under less dire circumstances. “Page 84. Code of Conduct and shit.”

Izuku reached for the printed copy of UA’s Student Handbook between them, flipping through the worn pages until he landed on the one Katsuki referenced. His eyes skimmed the section Katsuki had highlighted with an aggressive stab of yellow marker.

‘Students engaging in predatory behavior, harassment, or violations of physical boundaries will face immediate disciplinary action pending an investigation. Consequences may include suspension, expulsion, and loss of provisional hero licensing.’

“This,” Katsuki said, jabbing the passage on Izuku’s screen. “This is the fucker’s exit ticket.”

Izuku nodded, his fingers flying across his keyboard as he typed out notes, cross-referencing disciplinary precedents they’d found buried in UA’s old case records. 

“It’s clear, but vague enough that we’ll need proof. The kind of proof that sticks.” He frowned, clicking through a tab that summarized one of UA’s more public disciplinary hearings. “This investigation protocol… it puts a lot on the school’s discretion. If we’re not careful, it’ll just come down to a word-against-word situation. Mineta’s parents will use his connections to muddle it or force the school to show leniency.”

“Bullshit,” Katsuki spat, shoving his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. “If the rat thinks there’s even one hole in this fuckin’ thing, it’s over.”

The floor around them had transformed into chaos. 

Loose papers covered every corner, overlapping in a collage of scribbled notes and printed records. Each of their laptops boasted at least twenty open tabs, ranging from UA’s student code of conduct to Provisional Hero Licensing Board guidelines, and a few hazy legal PDFs that Izuku was fairly sure Katsuki had downloaded from… questionable sources.

The thing about them, though—once they were on the same page, nothing stopped them.

Izuku reached for his coffee, barely glancing at Katsuki as he murmured, “We need Nezu.”

The silence stretched for a moment before Katsuki growled, “How the fuck are we gonna get Nezu if we can’t tell him shit? We tell him what we’re doing, he reports it. They passed their time for action; we’re doing this on our own.”

“Not exactly,” Izuku countered, his tone calm but determined. 

He clicked through a few tabs before swiveling his laptop toward Katsuki. “We don’t have to tell Nezu anything directly. Just… give him a hypothetical scenario based on safety.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his red eyes gleaming with skepticism. “The rat’s not dumb, nerd. He’d see through that in ten fuckin’ seconds.”

“He might,” Izuku admitted, scratching at the back of his neck, “but knowing Nezu? He wouldn’t stop us. He’d probably love it. Go crazy for it even.”

Katsuki’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because it’s me,” Izuku said simply. “You know he eats this kind of thing up. I go in with a perfectly constructed plan about implementing safety into training exercises, something about gender dynamics and security protocols—he’ll practically trip over himself to make it happen.”

“Tch. Why the fuck not me?” Katsuki challenged, leaning back on his elbows with a scowl. “You saying I ain’t capable?”

Izuku rolled his eyes, fighting back a smirk. “Kacchan, you know I think you’re capable.” His voice softened, good-natured despite their grim task. “But let’s be honest. You don’t exactly have the best track record with Nezu.”

“Fucking Captain Obvious, reporting for duty.” Katsuki clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. “Not my damn fault the rat thought a fucking muzzle was necessary ‘cause I wanted a fair fight back in first year.”

Izuku winced. Touchy subject. Very touchy subject.

Katsuki shoved his chair back, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to calm himself. “I swear to god, after we’re done with this creep, the rat’s next. Better yet—the fucking Hero Commission. Burn the whole goddamn system to the ground.”

Izuku sat quietly, his chest tightening at Katsuki’s words. He understood the anger more than most would. It wasn’t just about the medal—or even the humiliation. 

It was about what it symbolized. 

Katsuki was always fighting to be taken seriously, to prove himself on his own terms, but that moment had cemented for him that the system didn’t care about fairness. 

It cared about control.

And even though Katsuki’s fury was justified, it would need to wait. Focus on Mineta first, Izuku reminded himself, because even though Katsuki’s fire was unshakable, it burned in too many directions at once.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said softly, his tone both soothing and firm.

Katsuki snapped his gaze toward him, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s a good idea,” Izuku continued, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, almost imperceptibly. “Taking down the system that let that kind of thing happen. But we need to focus. One problem at a time. Let’s deal with him first.”

Katsuki scoffed, shaking his head, but the sharpness in his glare dulled just slightly. “Fine. But don’t think I’m letting this shit slide forever, nerd. I’m keeping score.”

“I know,” Izuku said, his voice steady. 

And he meant it. 

Because in a lot of ways, Katsuki was right.

That was a fight for later, though. 

For now, Izuku filed the thought away in the back of his mind. Because as much as Mineta was a problem, the system that protected him—the rules that would resist their every attempt to remove him—that was bigger. 

The anger that boiled just beneath the surface of Katsuki’s voice wasn’t gone, but he let out a long, sharp breath through his nose. “You go schmooze the rodent, then. But I’m writing the fucking outline. Got it?”

“Deal.” Izuku smiled faintly, but it faded quickly as his gaze swept over the tangled mess of notes and screens surrounding them.

If they pulled this off, there’d be no turning back. No plea for leniency. 

No second chances. 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Izuku took a deep breath before knocking on the polished cedar door. 

His hand was steady, but only just. 

He knew this conversation was crucial—it had to be flawless. If he showed even a fraction of the simmering anger boiling beneath his skin, it could unravel everything.

A moment later, a bright, chipper voice answered from within. “Come in, young Midoriya!”

Izuku entered, his expression carefully measured, the picture of professionalism despite the emotions clawing at his chest. 

Principal Nezu’s office, as always, felt like an elegant fortress of intellect. The soft glow of lamps bathed the room in warm light, reflecting off shelves packed with books and meticulously organized files. Nezu himself sat behind his massive oak desk, reclining slightly in his chair, his ever-present smile etched across his face.

“Ah, welcome,” Nezu said, gesturing for Izuku to take a seat. “What brings you here today? I assume it’s something… intriguing, given your usual habit of addressing matters directly with Mr. Aizawa.”

Izuku gave a polite bow before settling into one of the plush armchairs, its comfort doing little to relax the tension winding through his muscles. 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Principal Nezu.”

Nezu waved a paw. “Oh, no thanks necessary. Conversations with you are always a delight.” His dark eyes sparkled with curiosity, glinting as if he could already sense something unusual brewing.

Izuku met his gaze with quiet resolve. “I had some… observations about the way our rescue training is structured, and I was hoping to discuss possible adjustments.”

Nezu tilted his head, his smile widening slightly. “Adjustments? Do tell. What sort of observations, and what adjustments would you suggest?”

Izuku inhaled deeply, steadying himself as he began. “As you know, the upcoming rescue exercise focuses on civilians requiring immediate medical assistance and evacuation under simulated emergency conditions.”

Nezu nodded. “Correct, a standard but effective training protocol.”

Izuku’s green eyes sharpened imperceptibly. “Yes, but I was wondering if we could take it a step further—one that prioritizes an additional layer of safety for everyone involved.”

“Safety?” Nezu echoed, leaning forward, his paws clasping beneath his chin. His intrigue was palpable now.

“Yes.” Izuku tapped a finger lightly against his thigh, projecting an air of analytical calm. “UA has always prioritized not only teaching combat skills but also fostering teamwork and ensuring the well-being of students, correct? Especially in high-stress scenarios like rescues?”

“Quite so,” Nezu replied smoothly. “That is at the core of our mission.”

Izuku nodded, his expression unreadable but composed. 

“I started reviewing the school’s guidelines and historical protocols after our most recent drills and noticed some areas where extra precautions could be beneficial—specifically regarding the dynamics within training simulations.”

Nezu’s eyes gleamed with interest, though the corners of his smile twitched slightly upward, as though he already suspected where this was going. “Ah, you mean the matter of interpersonal interactions during drills. Am I correct?”

Izuku’s lips pressed together for a fraction of a second, a flicker of his frustration slipping through before he smothered it. “Yes,” he said smoothly, carefully steering his tone. “Group training exercises, especially mixed-gender ones, have a tendency to create vulnerabilities that might not be immediately apparent. The physical proximity required during rescues could, hypothetically, create unnecessary complications—or risks—if the boundaries aren’t properly defined.”

Nezu tilted his head again, his ever-present smile turning just slightly sharper. “Hypothetically?”

Izuku’s fingers twitched against the chair, his control straining as anger threatened to crack his otherwise polished demeanor. 

He inhaled sharply, allowing just enough fire to simmer beneath his words to press the point. “Hypothetically, yes. But knowing you, Principal Nezu, I’m sure you’d agree that preparing for every contingency—even the most unlikely—is always in UA’s best interest. Isn’t that why you’ve designed so many exercises that balance unpredictability and safety?”

“Why, thank you, Midoriya,” Nezu replied, his tone a mix of amusement and intrigue. “I do pride myself on that balance. So, what is it exactly you’re proposing?”

Izuku straightened, meeting Nezu’s gaze head-on. 

“Gender-split teams for this particular exercise,” Izuku explained, his voice calm and measured. “The rescue simulation would proceed as planned, but with one key adjustment. For ease of organization—and to account for certain… sensitivities—the boys would handle one segment of the task, while the girls focus on another.”

As he spoke, Izuku slid a neatly printed document across the desk toward Nezu. The paper outlined the proposed changes in precise detail, complete with a breakdown of the newly arranged teams.

“These team assignments are based on past performance and demonstrated efficiency,” Izuku continued confidently, gesturing to the paper. “They should provide the best possible results for this scenario.”

Nezu’s sharp eyes scanned the document, his smile widening ever so slightly.

Nezu chuckled softly, but there was a weight behind the sound. “Interesting. And you believe this adjustment would improve the training outcomes?”

“Absolutely,” Izuku said firmly. “It ensures the drill remains focused on the exercise’s objectives while minimizing the risk of… distractions.”

Nezu’s dark eyes lingered on him for a long moment, sharp and calculating. “A well-constructed argument. You’re a natural strategist, young Midoriya.”

Izuku’s chest tightened at the praise, but he forced himself to remain calm. 

He couldn’t let on how much was at stake—not yet. 

“Thank you, Principal Nezu. I’ve also been thinking about ways to enhance safety protocols further, particularly for unsupervised zones like the rescue tents. Would you consider integrating remote monitoring systems for areas where students might be isolated?”

“Oh, how ambitious,” Nezu remarked, steepling his paws. “And a reasonable precaution, certainly.”

Izuku leaned forward slightly. “I know you always encourage us to think outside the box, Principal Nezu.”

Nezu’s sharp ears twitched at that last statement, a faint glimmer of knowing passing through his expression. 

For a fraction of a second, it was as though the principal could see everything—every thread Izuku was weaving. But, to Izuku’s relief, Nezu simply nodded, his smile widening once more.

“Very well, Midoriya. I’ll approve the changes. Let’s see how this plays out, shall we?”

Izuku nodded, bowing slightly before standing to leave.

“Midoriya,” Nezu called just before he left. Izuku turned.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Nezu said, his eyes glittering with something unreadable, “if there were anything else you’d like me to observe during the upcoming drill, now would be the time to mention it.”

Izuku’s lips quirked into the faintest smile. “Nothing comes to mind, sir. But if anything arises, I trust you’ll know exactly what to do.”

Nezu chuckled, waving a paw. “Oh, I most certainly will. Good day, Midoriya.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It took everything in Katsuki not to slam an explosion right into the bastard’s face. His hands twitched at his sides, tiny sparks crackling from his palms, betraying the volcanic rage bubbling just beneath the surface. 

Every instinct screamed for him to teach Mineta a lesson he’d never forget, but he didn’t move. 

Because as much as he wanted to break Mineta apart right here and now, both he and Deku knew it wasn’t enough. Words—no matter how laced with sleaze—could always be twisted. The bastard could backpedal, turn the narrative, make himself look like a concerned, if slightly misguided, classmate. 

It wouldn’t stick. 

They needed proof.

So, Katsuki forced himself to hold back. 

Something he’d had far too much practice with these past few days. Every second felt like someone was driving a stake deeper into his chest. He clenched his fists tighter, forcing his nails into his palms to ground himself.

The plan was for him to stay outside, to let Deku go in first, smooth-talking and subtle as always, and only step in if the bastard needed to be restrained. But the moment he saw Mineta’s slimeball grin—saw where his disgusting eyes had been lingering—he couldn’t stop himself. 

His feet carried him into the tent before his brain could catch up.

It wasn’t even like he was entirely in control anymore. 

His body was coiled so tightly, his rage barely contained, that it felt like he was walking a tightrope in a storm. And the wind was only getting stronger.

“Kacchan,” Deku said sharply, his voice calm but weighted. 

It was a warning Katsuki knew all too well. 

Deku’s hand came up and pressed lightly against his chest, not pushing him, but grounding him—an old gesture, familiar, like muscle memory. Katsuki’s jaw clenched, and he froze in place, though his glare was still locked on Mineta.

“Relax, Kacchan,” Deku said, his tone deliberately steady, smooth like polished steel. “He’s just taking care of the wounded. Just like you asked… Right, Mineta?”

The weight of the question dropped into the room like a stone.

Mineta flinched, his gaze darting nervously between the two of them. Sweat glistened on his temple, and his laugh came out thin and wheezy. “Y-yeah! Exactly! Nothing more, you know? Just… helping. I mean, what kind of hero wouldn’t? Ha-ha…”

Deku smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

He tilted his head slightly, his green eyes narrowing just enough to look thoughtful but not suspicious, the way he always did when carefully peeling apart someone’s excuses, thread by thread. His hand stayed firmly pressed against Katsuki’s chest, a subtle but effective barrier between Mineta and the powder keg that was moments from detonating.

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that,” Deku said, his tone perfectly even, almost… warm. But not too warm. Just enough to put Mineta slightly at ease.

Behind him, Katsuki bristled, a low growl simmering in the back of his throat. Deku didn’t need to look back to know the effort it took for him to stay restrained. Kacchan, don’t push it. We’re close.

Deku better fucking hurry this shit up.

“Kacchan was just concerned, that’s all,” Deku continued, keeping his tone casual and just a little playful. “You know how he gets—blows things way out of proportion. He heard some… disturbing things, and I told him, ‘No way that’s true.’” He laughed, light and airy, as though the very idea of those rumors had been absurd to him. “Mineta’s a good friend of mine. I wasn’t going to let him badmouth a good friend like that.”

He delivered the last line with an inflection so sincere that it took Katsuki everything not to roll his eyes. 

Damn nerd’s too fucking good at this. Mineta visibly began to relax, his shoulders dropping as some of the tension in his body ebbed away.

Deku kept his smile in place, even as his insides coiled tighter. 

He was lying through his teeth, every word revolting to him, but he couldn’t afford to let his disgust slip through. 

This had to work.

“You wouldn’t mind clearing things up for him, right?” Deku said, his gaze flicking to Mineta with just enough of a plea to seem convincing. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold him back otherwise…”

His hand on Katsuki’s chest pressed lightly—not enough to restrain him, but enough to sell the act.

Mineta blinked, his head tilting in confusion as his eyes darted between the two of them. His gaze lingered for a second too long on Deku, searching his expression for any hint of suspicion and finding none. 

The smile was steady. 

The warmth in Deku’s voice was convincing. 

It was working.

“Oh, y-yeah,” Mineta stammered, his voice shaky but losing some of its edge. “Sure, sure! You know me, I wouldn’t… you know, I’d never—”

“Exactly,” Deku said, cutting in smoothly before Mineta could trip over himself. “I mean, come on, you’ve always been good with the girls, right? Helpful. Friendly. Not like what Kacchan said—he thinks you’ve been…” He paused, glancing back at Katsuki as if searching for the right words. “Let’s just say, less than respectful with Mina.”

The shift in tone was so subtle it was almost imperceptible. Deku still smiled, his voice still friendly, but the words landed like tiny knives, buried just beneath the surface.

Mineta froze, his breath hitching. “Mina?” he echoed weakly.

“Mm-hmm,” Deku hummed, tilting his head slightly, his expression never faltering. “Kacchan said he saw her upset in the common room the other night. Crying, actually. And, well… he overheard something about you.”

Mineta’s eyes widened, his pupils shrinking. “What—what are you saying?!”

“I’m saying,” Deku said softly, leaning in just a fraction, “that if you didn’t do anything wrong, you’d have no problem explaining yourself. Because I know Kacchan’s wrong about this. Aren’t you, Kacchan?”

Behind him, Katsuki scoffed, the sound low and biting, his jaw tight as his hands flexed at his sides. 

It took every ounce of his control not to close the distance and plant his fist in the little creep’s face. Sparks crackled faintly at his palms, begging to be let loose, but he clenched his fists tighter and breathed through his nose.

This was the plan. 

The outline he wrote. 

All he had to do was play his part—aggressive enough to sell it, but not enough to send Mineta scrambling off to Aizawa before they could wring the truth out of him.

Katsuki glanced at Deku, who was already deep in character. 

Flawless, as usual. Deku was the picture of calm, his smile faint but disarming, his voice even and light. If Katsuki messed this up, he would be the one who ruined everything. And there was no fucking way he’d let that happen.

“Tch.” Katsuki growled, narrowing his eyes at Mineta. “I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

Deku smiled at him, the expression soft but just pointed enough for Mineta to notice. Katsuki returned a quick scowl but stayed planted, simmering in the tension as Deku turned back to their target.

“See?” Deku said, his tone soothing. “Just tell us what happened. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

Mineta visibly relaxed, his chest lifting as he exhaled shakily. He looked at Deku—too trusting, too kind Deku. That’s how everyone saw him. Always forgiving, always giving people the benefit of the doubt. The kind of person who would rein someone like Katsuki in, keep him from going too far.

What a joke.

Katsuki almost grinned at the thought. 

Everyone said Deku was the Katsuki Whisperer™, the one person who could “control” him. 

Bullshit. 

Katsuki wasn’t controlled by anyone. Deku didn’t rein him in—he steered him. Pointed him in the right direction. Without him, Katsuki would’ve burned a lot more bridges. But controlled? 

No fucking way.

Mineta nodded eagerly, seizing the lifeline Deku dangled in front of him. “Yeah! A misunderstanding! That’s all this is!”

“So…” Deku tilted his head slightly, his green eyes sharp but his smile still soft. “Do you mind explaining it for us? You know how Kacchan gets if he doesn’t have all the facts.”

Katsuki let out another growl, this one intentionally rougher, rolling his shoulders for good measure. Sparks hissed faintly as he crossed his arms and glared at Mineta. “Better make it good, you slimy little fuck.”

Mineta flinched, then looked back at Deku, his expression pleading. 

Deku just held up his hand in a familiar calming gesture, as though asking Katsuki to stand down. It was all part of the illusion.

Mineta licked his lips nervously, glancing between them. “Uh, sure! Yeah, of course. No problem at all…” He laughed, a shaky, high-pitched sound. “It’s just, you know… Mina’s kind of sensitive, you know? I think she might’ve taken something the wrong way.”

Deku’s expression didn’t change. His voice stayed soft. Friendly. “Taken what the wrong way, exactly?”

Mineta hesitated, shifting nervously on his feet. “Well, you know, girls… They get, uh, emotional. You compliment them, and they think you’re trying to, uh…” He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “You know how it is.”

“No,” Deku said gently, shaking his head. “I don’t think I do. What did you say to her, Mineta?”

Mineta froze, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words—or an escape. He laughed again, weaker this time. “It wasn’t anything bad! Just, you know, her hero costume is tight, and—”

“Her costume?” Deku echoed softly, his voice smooth as ice. He tilted his head again, feigning innocent curiosity. “What about her costume?”

Mineta winced, his laughter trailing off into silence. “I just… I said something about how it looked, you know? Like… how it fits her. She took it the wrong way, though! I wasn’t being creepy or anything!”

Katsuki took a step forward, his lip curling into a snarl, and Mineta practically stumbled backward. Deku raised a hand quickly, pressing it firmly against Katsuki’s chest again.

“Let him talk, Kacchan,” Deku said softly, his voice carrying a quiet warning.

Katsuki glared down at him, but stayed put, his entire body a coil of tension, ready to snap. “Fine,” Katsuki growled through clenched teeth.

“Go on,” Deku said, turning his gaze back to Mineta. “What else did you say to her?”

Mineta’s eyes darted wildly, panic flashing across his face. He tried to laugh again, but it died in his throat. “Nothing! Just—just a joke! You know, guys joke all the time!”

“A joke?” Deku repeated, tilting his head again, his faint smile returning. “What kind of joke?”

“I, uh… I said…” Mineta’s voice faltered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I said that maybe she shouldn’t get mad if… if someone wanted to touch her or something.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy.

Katsuki let out a low snarl, and this time Deku didn’t press back as much. The anger that simmered under Deku’s calm facade began to flicker, though his voice stayed steady.

“You said what?”

“It was a joke!” Mineta said quickly, throwing his hands up in defense. “I swear! Just a joke! She freaked out over nothing!”

“Over nothing,” Deku echoed softly, his tone calm, but his sharp green eyes betrayed his disgust. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as if he’d already decided Mineta wasn’t worth his energy.

The tension in the tent thickened, the air suffocating. Mineta’s frantic gaze darted between the two of them, his sweat-drenched face pale with growing realization. 

He’d said too much, and he knew it.

Katsuki had had enough.

Finally pushing past Deku, Katsuki advanced, his movements slow and deliberate, each step heavy like the growl of a predator closing in on cornered prey. The air around him seemed to crackle with energy, his sweat sparking faintly at his palms, though he kept his hands in check.

“Kacchan,” Deku murmured, but Katsuki didn’t even look back. 

This was his moment now.

Mineta staggered backward instinctively as Katsuki loomed closer, his broad shoulders and wild glare towering over the smaller boy. Mineta’s back hit the edge of the tent, the fabric fluttering faintly as he stumbled further from the exit. Katsuki didn’t let up, his every movement designed to corner and intimidate.

“See, that’s not what Mina told me,” Katsuki began, his voice low and venomous. His grin was razor-sharp, the kind that promised pain. “I heard a very, very different story. Wanna explain why?”

Mineta’s breath hitched as Katsuki leaned in closer, his words slow and deliberate, each one carrying the weight of his anger.

“She said you were in the girls’ bathroom,” Katsuki snarled, his voice dropping even lower, the venom turning to pure steel. “Somewhere you know you shouldn’t fucking be. And she said you were taking pictures of her. Commenting on her goddamn body.”

Mineta shook his head rapidly, his entire body trembling. “N-no! That’s not—”

Katsuki’s palm slammed against the side of the tent next to Mineta’s head, sparks flying just inches from his face. Mineta yelped, his words cutting off instantly as the sharp scent of ozone filled the air.

“Oh, I’m not done,” Katsuki hissed, his eyes narrowing further. “She said when she wouldn’t ‘have fun’ with you, you had the fucking audacity to blackmail her. Blackmail her!” His voice rose, every word sharper and louder than the last. “Threatened to send those pictures around unless she gave you what you wanted.”

Mineta’s knees buckled slightly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

“So yeah,” Katsuki barked, the sparks in his hands intensifying. He held his palms low, careful not to let them get too close. His quirk was volatile, and he knew the teachers wouldn’t let him off for even the smallest slip right now. 

He forced himself to stay in control, his teeth grinding as he leaned in so close their noses almost touched. “I’m a little fucking confused, so please—fucking explain.”

“I—I didn’t—” Mineta stammered, his voice breaking as he tried to find an escape. “I didn’t mean it like that! It was a joke! Just a stupid joke, that’s all!”

Katsuki scoffed, pulling back slightly only to laugh—low, bitter, and devoid of humor. “A joke, huh? You call that a joke?!”

“I—” Mineta began, but Katsuki didn’t let him finish.

“What the fuck even makes you think you can talk to her—or anyone—like that?!” Katsuki’s voice was a growl now, barely restrained, his body practically vibrating with rage. “You think you’re untouchable, huh? Think you can hide behind your slimy little bullshit forever?”

“I swear, I didn’t mean it!” Mineta wailed, his voice cracking. “I wasn’t gonna send the pictures—I didn’t even keep them! I deleted them!”

The words tumbled out before Mineta could stop himself, his panic overriding any sense of self-preservation. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d just admitted.

Katsuki froze for half a second, his body going completely still. Then he moved, his fist clenching as he raised it, sparks flying wildly now. “You fucking piece of—”

“Bakugo.”

The sharp, commanding voice sliced through the tension like a whip.

Katsuki whipped his head around, and there, standing at the entrance to the tent, was Aizawa. His dark eyes bore into Katsuki with unyielding authority, his scarf already unwinding from his neck, prepared to stop him if necessary. Behind him, Principal Nezu stood silently, his expression unreadable but his sharp eyes watching everything with quiet intensity.

“Step back,” Aizawa ordered, his voice calm but firm.

For a moment, it looked like Katsuki wouldn’t. 

His entire body was still coiled, his fist trembling as the sparks in his hand refused to dissipate.

“Katsuki,” Deku said softly, stepping forward now. His hand touched Katsuki’s shoulder, grounding him. “We got what we needed.”

Katsuki’s jaw flexed, his eyes locked on Mineta, who was now practically sliding down the side of the tent, his legs barely holding him up. 

For a long, agonizing second, Katsuki didn’t move.

Then, with a sharp exhale, he dropped his fist and stepped back, his movements jerky but restrained. He turned his head, muttering through gritted teeth. “This shit isn’t over.”

Aizawa’s eyes flicked to Mineta, who was shaking like a leaf, then back to Katsuki. “Out. Now.”

Katsuki let out a frustrated growl but obeyed, storming out of the tent. Deku followed, pausing only long enough to glance back at Mineta with a look that promised his own reckoning.

As they disappeared into the rubble-strewn field, Nezu tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint, curious smile. “Well,” he said softly, “it seems there’s quite a bit to discuss.”

Aizawa said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to Mineta.

Aizawa took in a deep breath, his fingers twitching faintly at his sides as he fought to maintain his composure. The final threads of the boys’ plan were falling into place in his mind, each detail weaving a picture that was as impressive as it was concerning.

They had planned this down to the last detail.

And for what? Because two students believed their teachers weren’t capable of dealing with the mess that was Mineta Minoru.

That realization stung more than he cared to admit.

I’ll be beating myself up for this one for a while.

The weight of responsibility hung heavy on him, but there wasn’t time for self-recrimination—not now. 

Right now, there were more immediate matters to address.

“Phone,” Aizawa said, holding his hand out toward Mineta, his voice steady but firm.

Mineta’s head shot up, his wide, tear-filled eyes darting frantically between Aizawa and Nezu. “Y-you guys don’t have the r-right to take my phone!” he stammered, clutching it to his chest like a lifeline.

“Oh, on the contrary!” Principal Nezu piped up, his chipper tone jarring against the tension in the room. His sharp teeth glinted as he smiled, his small frame practically bouncing with energy. “In the UA Code of Conduct, it clearly states that if there is reason to suspect a student’s phone contains incriminating evidence—particularly anything that could compromise the safety or privacy of others—we have the right to examine it!”

Mineta paled, his grip on the phone tightening.

Nezu continued, his voice almost sing-song. “Of course, this rule is usually applied to cases of potential leaks of school-sensitive information… but I’d say it fits this situation quite nicely, wouldn’t you, Aizawa?” He cast a sly glance at the teacher, his eyes glittering with understanding. “Though I suspect this was an intentional detail, wasn’t it?”

Aizawa didn’t respond, pinching the bridge of his nose instead. He could already feel the grey hairs multiplying. “Mineta. Phone. Now.”

The command was calm, but the edge in Aizawa’s tone left no room for argument.

Mineta hesitated for a long moment, trembling as his fingers hovered over the phone. Finally, with a small, choked sound of defeat, he handed it over, his hand shaking as Aizawa took it.

“Nezu,” Aizawa said, sliding the phone into his pocket. “Take him to your office. I need to speak to the other problem students.”

Nezu tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, of course. Come along, young Mineta. Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

Mineta let out a small whimper as Nezu practically dragged him out of the tent, his tiny paws gripping the boy’s scruff with surprising strength.

Once the two were gone, Aizawa exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before stepping out of the tent.

The air outside was heavy with tension, the kind that settled in your chest and refused to let go. 

The exercise had come to a standstill, the students frozen in place as the weight of what had happened began to sink in.

Mina stood near the wreckage, her shoulders trembling as she clung to Katsuki, tears streaking her face. Katsuki’s arms were firm around her, his glare aimed at nothing in particular but carrying the same murderous edge as before. His protective stance was as fierce as his rage, his entire body taut as if ready to spring into action at any moment.

Nearby, Izuku stood with Jirou, his voice low as he spoke to her. Jirou nodded solemnly, her expression tight with worry but resolute.

Aizawa’s eyes scanned the scene before him, taking in every detail. He motioned for Kirishima, who had been hovering close to Katsuki and Mina, concern etched across his face.

“Kirishima,” Aizawa said, his tone softening just slightly. “I trust you’re capable of helping Mina?”

The redhead nodded instantly, his usual enthusiasm muted but his resolve clear. “Yeah. I’ve got her.”

“Good.” Aizawa patted Kirishima’s shoulder once before turning his attention to Katsuki and Izuku.

 “You two. With me.”

Aizawa directed them back into the tent, pulling the flap closed behind him to allow for privacy. 

The tension in the air shifted slightly as the chaos outside was muted, leaving only the three of them in the dimly lit space. Katsuki still carried the sharp edge of his anger, though he was visibly more controlled now. Izuku, in contrast, had a quiet intensity about him—calm, but watchful.

What they had done was reckless. It was dangerous. But it was also brilliant.

Aizawa took a moment to study them, his sharp eyes flicking between the two. 

They were a fascinating duo—opposites in so many ways, yet when aligned, a force to be reckoned with. It was clear now: every step of this had been deliberate, every move calculated to perfection, and yet… they’d gone behind his back to pull it off. The sting of that realization lingered, but he had to admit: he was impressed.

“Sit,” Aizawa said, motioning to the nearby crates.

The boys obeyed without hesitation, though Katsuki sat with a defiant slump, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. Izuku perched on the edge of his crate, his posture open but alert.

Aizawa folded his arms, his sharp gaze flicking between them. 

“So, Midoriya,” he began, his tone steady but tinged with curiosity, “any other parts of your plan I should be aware of?”

Izuku glanced at Katsuki, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a small, knowing smile. “Aizawa-sensei,” he said with a quiet chuckle, “I thought you were sharper than that. All of this was Kacchan’s plan. Every detail.”

Aizawa blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His brow furrowed as he looked at Katsuki, who didn’t flinch under his gaze.

“This was your plan, Bakugo?” Aizawa asked, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief.

Katsuki scowled, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—pride. “Damn right it was.”

Aizawa’s mind raced.

Of course, Katsuki had always been smart—sharp and analytical in combat. But his strategies usually centered around raw power and brute force. This, however, was something else entirely. 

This was precise. 

Controlled.

“Well,” Aizawa said slowly, his voice measured, “it seems I’ve underestimated you both.” He paused, his gaze returning to Izuku. “That being said, this was incredibly dangerous. Do you realize how easily this could have gone sideways?”

Izuku nodded, meeting Aizawa’s eyes without hesitation. 

“We accounted for that, Sensei,” he said, his voice steady. “Everything we did stayed within UA’s guidelines. We reviewed the Code of Conduct, disciplinary precedents, and emergency protocols. And we made sure no one else was involved or put in harm’s way.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue.

“I told Jirou to keep the girls together,” Izuku explained. “That way, no one would be isolated, and they’d be safe from Mineta. The injured civilian in the tent wasn’t a person—it was a weighted CPR dummy. Realistic enough to fool him, but completely harmless.”

Aizawa leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. “And the exercise itself? What about the premise?”

Izuku’s expression didn’t falter. “We stuck to the objective. The exercise was about rescuing civilians from a simulated threat. That’s exactly what we did, though not simulated. We rescued the girls—from Mineta.”

For a moment, Aizawa was silent, processing the weight of Izuku’s words. 

They treated him like a villain.

“And Mineta?” Aizawa asked.

Katsuki leaned forward now, his sharp glare cutting through the air. “We trapped the fucker fair and square,” he said bluntly. “Got him to spill his disgusting guts without anyone else getting hurt. And yeah, I got in his face, but I didn’t fucking touch him.”

“That brings me to my next point,” Aizawa said, his voice tightening. “You were too rough, Bakugo. The way you cornered him, the sparks on your hands—it could have easily been seen as aggression.”

Katsuki scoffed, but his tone was surprisingly even as he responded. “The sparks weren’t me being ‘aggressive,’ Sensei. That’s just my quirk.”

Aizawa frowned, tilting his head slightly. “Explain.”

Katsuki exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “My sweat builds up naturally. It’s not something I can turn off. If I let it sit too long, it gets dangerous. My gauntlets are for storing it so it doesn’t go off randomly, but when I don’t have them, I have to spark it off manually. Controlled sparks are the only way to burn it off without leaving a mess—or blowing shit up.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re saying the sparks weren’t intentional?”

“Exactly,” Katsuki said, leaning back again.

 “It’s maintenance, not aggression. If I wipe it off somewhere, it’ll turn into a fucking bomb. The slightest friction might make it go off. You didn’t know that because you didn’t ask. Everyone’s too busy patting me on the back for my ‘control’ to actually figure out what I deal with.”

Aizawa felt a pang of guilt at Katsuki’s words. 

He prided himself on knowing his students—on understanding not just their strengths but the challenges they faced. 

And yet, this was something he hadn’t known.

“You’re right,” Aizawa admitted, his voice quieter now. “I should have asked.”

Katsuki shrugged, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Whatever. Just figured you should know before you accuse me of losing it.”

Aizawa sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You two… You’re a pain in my ass. But I’m proud of you.”

Both boys looked up at him, their expressions shifting—Katsuki’s eyes narrowing with begrudging acceptance, Izuku’s softening into quiet gratitude.

“This plan of yours,” Aizawa said, glancing between them, “was smart. Reckless, but smart. You thought of everything. Even this conversation, I’m guessing.”

Izuku smiled faintly. “Well, we figured you’d want answers.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki added, smirking. “And we knew you’d lecture. It’s your thing.”

Aizawa let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. “Get out of here. Both of you. And stay out of trouble.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, without another word, the two boys stood and left the tent.

As the flap closed behind them, Aizawa allowed himself a small, weary smile. 

These kids… They’ll be incredible heroes someday.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Back in the staffroom that evening, Aizawa sat at his desk, a stack of paperwork in front of him. Nezu had left after handing over Mineta’s phone, his parting words hanging in Aizawa’s mind:

"You’ve raised some remarkable students, Aizawa. Their loyalty to one another is inspiring… even if their methods are a bit unorthodox."

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. 

There was truth in that, as much as he hated to admit it. His students had shown initiative and strength, but it had come at a cost—a cost he should’ve prevented.

They were students, they didnt need to deal with this.

Going forward, things would have to change.

First, he needed to ensure that every student felt safe coming to him or any teacher with concerns. 

The gap in trust that had formed between him and his class was unacceptable. He’d talk to them—individually and as a group—to rebuild that trust and make it clear they didn’t have to handle these kinds of problems alone.

Second, UA’s policies would need to be revisited. 

If Mineta had been able to skate by for this long without proper action being taken, then something in the system was broken. Aizawa would make sure it was fixed.

And lastly, he needed to do better. 

To be better. 

Katsuki’s explanation of his quirk had been a stark reminder that even he, as someone who prided himself on knowing his students, didn’t always dig deep enough.

“You didn’t ask.”

That simple statement cut deeper than he expected. He’d been quick to praise Katsuki for his control but never thought to ask how he maintained it. 

How many other details had he missed?

He had always assumed the sparking palms were an intimidation tactic, but now, he and Midoriya’s relationship made a bit more sense.

Aizawa leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the small corkboard pinned with photos of his class. 

They stared back at him—young, bright, and full of potential. Each one of them carried their own burdens, their own struggles. It was his job to notice those, to support them, and to guide them.

Mineta was gone, and the girls were safe. That was a victory, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to ensure nothing like this ever happened again.

For Mina. For Katsuki and Izuku. For all of them.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to the class. 

He’d explain what happened in as much detail as he could, balancing transparency with discretion. He’d apologize for his oversight and make it clear that their safety—physical, mental, and emotional—was his priority.

And he’d thank them, too.

Because as reckless as they had been, Katsuki and Izuku had reminded him of what mattered most: these kids, this team, and the unwavering bond they shared.

As Aizawa turned off the lights and left the staffroom, he felt a faint glimmer of hope. His students had already proven their strength and resilience. 

Now, it was his turn to do the same.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

the epilogue

Formal Announcement from U.A. High School XXX-XX24

It is with great disappointment that we inform the UA community of the immediate expulsion of Mineta Minoru from the Heroics Department, Class 2-A, for gross misconduct that violates the principles and ethical standards upheld by our institution.

An internal investigation revealed a pattern of behavior that endangered the safety, privacy, and dignity of multiple students. Evidence collected during this investigation has been shared with law enforcement, and pending legal charges are under review.

UA prioritizes the safety and well-being of all its students, and we will not tolerate actions that compromise their physical or emotional security. Moving forward, additional measures will be implemented to ensure incidents of this nature cannot happen again.

We remain committed to fostering an environment where all students feel safe, supported, and respected.

Signed, Principal Nezu U.A. High School ______________________________________________________________ congrats if you made it this far!

[saurexhas]

Feast of 1000 Beasts (Not Literally)

Butcher’s birthday was back in January, but this was still so much fun to write up. I don’t think I’m catching up any time soon though XD

Once again, this is set in the @nightmare-castle universe, with a guest appearance from Utotale! Hope you all enjoy!

“Excuse me! May I have everyone’s attention?” Pyre looked upon his brother’s teammates… coworkers? Associates? Whatever… Cross, Killer, and Dust were all in the lounge, playing cards. Well, Dust and Killer were playing, and Cross was about three seconds away from turning the table into a lawn dart. Why the ex-soldier continued to play cards against these two never ceased to surprise him, considering that it almost always ended up with Cross being broke and angry at the world.

At the very least, it seemed that his announcement would save him from having to replace another table. All three of them looked up as he spoke out in his usual loud voice, with various amounts of actual interest in whatever he had to say. Still, he had their attention, which is exactly what he asked for, so no time to complain about all the little details!

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, today is my brother’s birthday!”

“Oh… was that today?” Cross chimed in with uncertainty.

“Butch has a birthday?” Killer added.

“Don’t care,” was all Dust mumbled, placing down a card from his hand. “Ono.”

“Dammit! How the hell do you always win?!”

“Cross, if you don’t break the table, I shall forgive you all for forgetting my brother’s birthday,” Pyre sighed, looking to the three in exasperation. “Never fear! The great Pyre always has a backup plan to account for things such as others forgetting birthdays! I’ve already planned a great feast as my brother’s present, with our king’s permission of course! And you three are going to help me!”

Killer’s skull moved as if he was rolling his nonexistent eye lights. “And why would we do that? What do we get outta helping ya?”

With the most serious look he could muster, Pyre calmly stated, “Only those that assist will be allowed to enjoy the feast.”

“Wait, so if we don’t help you out, we go hungry?” Cross seemed to be the most upset… er, well he seemed to be the only one that was upset about that possibility. That meant that he’d have to plan around Killer and Dust’s obvious reluctance.

The taller skeleton’s usual grin was back on his face as he waved off the soldier’s worries. “Oh, not to worry! Your task is relatively easy Cross! All you need to do is keep my brother occupied whilst I shop for and prepare the feast! As for you two…” His gaze turned to the others, ignoring how the monochrome skeleton clearly didn’t think that entertaining Butcher would be easy. “You two will be coming with me to the Uto market! I’ll be in need of help carrying the groceries and picking out the best selections!”

“Why don’t ya just take Butcher hunting?” Killer piped up, leaning back in his chair as he casually threw down a skip that left Cross fuming. “Don’t you Horrortale variants love fresh meat? Just throw him in some safari or nature preserve and call it good!”

“Oh, now that is just verse-ist and you know it.” He waggled his finger disapprovingly in the emotionless skeleton’s direction, even if his scolding would have little to no effect. “If you wish though, think of the trip to the market as a civilized hunting trip! And we shall be doing the hunting so that my brother can enjoy his birthday without having to worry about food!” Even if his brother might truly revel in the thrill of the hunt, he wanted to pamper him and allow Butcher to enjoy a meal with no work or strings attached for once.

“I’m in,” Dust shrugged his shoulders, turning his focus back to the single card in his hand as he threw it down. “And I win again.”

“Wait, you’re actually gonna go along with this?” Killer seemed surprised that the normally reclusive skeleton was up for it, everyone ignoring how Cross was tugging on his uniform’s straps and trying desperately not to scream in rage as Dust scooped up all of his G on the table.

The hooded skeleton was focused more on counting his winnings, only glancing up slightly between Pyre and Killer. “It’s a day off, right? The king gave permission, and we all know better than to argue with Pyre.”

“Huh, good point… okay, I’m in!” Killer hopped to his feet, with his quiet teammate legging behind as he scooped up his winnings. “So, we heading out right now?”

The tallest skeleton of the bunch was thrilled that the two were willing to assist on the promise of a day off, clapping his hands a bit and nodding. “We can if the both of you are ready!”

“Wait, how the hell am I supposed to distract Butcher?!” Cross cried out, looking at the group as they started heading out.

Killer was the one to respond, turning around and sneering, “Maybe play cards against him! It’s always fun watching you lose over and over again!” Dust snickered quietly at the remark, with Pyre sighing once again as he ignored all of the curses slipping from the soldier’s mouth.

“Very well, let us get going then! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can procure everything we need!” Leading the way, Pyre turned back once to wish Cross good luck in his quest, missing the look of desperation directed at his back as the three skeletons teleported to Utotale.

Cross knew that he was screwed. Why did he get this assignment?! Didn’t Pyre like him? He was way more responsible than the other two, so why was he the one left on babysitting duty while they got to go to Uto? Groaning to himself, the ex-soldier looked down to where Butcher was sitting in the garden, sharpening his axe and humming some tune to himself. Maybe he could just leave the big guy alone? Surely Butcher would be able to entertain himself for a while… though he’d get suspicious the second he went to the kitchen and found his brother missing. Stars, he really was about to do this, wasn’t he?

Descending the steps, he noticed the subtle movements of his teammate’s skull, indicating that Butcher now knew he was here. “Whatcha doin’ here, marshmallow? Come ta smell the roses?” The larger skeleton clearly thought that he was funny, whereas the marshmallow nickname just left Cross once again considering to bail on this plan and fend for himself for dinner.

“I told you not to call me that,” he growled back in response, shooting the other a glare as their gazes finally met. Taking a breath to calm his temper, he tried to seem as casual as possible. “I was just… curious about what you were working on, that’s all.”

That one red eye narrowed suspiciously at his words, Butcher putting his whetstone in his pocket as he stood up. “Yer a horrible liar, little Oreo. Mind tellin’ me why yer really here?”

He didn’t know which nickname was worse, but at least Oreo didn’t imply that he was soft and squishy like marshmallow did. Steeling his nerves, he stood as tall as he could… even if it did nothing to minimise the height difference between them. Well… Killer had said that they love seeing him lose… “Fine, you caught me. Had a bit of a challenge for ya. I need to practice dealing with more aggressive monsters, so… how about a hunt?” Oh stars, this was a horrible idea! “I run off into the garden, and you hunt me down. I get my practice, and you get… whatever you get out of hunting other monsters down.”

It seemed to take the scarred skeleton a moment to process his request, though his eye was quick to dilate as if trying to take all of him in at once. “Y’sure ya wanna do that, Oreo? Can’t say I’ll hold back if ya really get me going.” Swallowing down his fear, Cross nodded, the action causing Butcher to let out a raspy chuckle. “Alright tidbit, I’ll give ya a head start. Better hope ya can run fast, or this won’t be any fun~”

Blinking a couple times, the monochrome skeleton quickly processed the predatory look he was being given, and bolted. “I’m such a fucking idiot, I should’ve gone with cards!” He hissed at himself, hoping to put as much distance between himself and his hunter as possible before his head start was up. He could only hope that things were going smoothly on Pyre’s end of things.

“Here we are, the Utotale market!” Pyre announced with glee, gesturing to the many stalls and shops filled with monsters bustling about. This utopic world welcomed anyone so long as they didn’t cause trouble, including those among Nightmare’s ranks. As such, nobody spared them more than a glance before continuing on their way. It was nice to not be scorned for their political associations for once, the tall skeleton enjoying the peaceful view for a moment before getting on with the day’s mission.

Fishing out a pen and notebook, he turned to the two skeletons he’d recruited with his usual enthusiasm. “Alright! I want my brother’s feast to be memorable, and as such I want to collect ingredients from several AUs! The main focus shall be meat, as it’s my brother’s favourite, but we’ll need all sorts of supplies. Killer, can you please start looking around for more rare and exotic meats? I want the main dishes to be special and memorable! And Dust, can you look for unique produce? There should be plenty of options here. I shall be acquiring a few of the items I already know that I need, but do not hesitate to get my attention if you find something!”

Feeling confident in his instructions, he waved as the pair wandered off to explore, watching them mutter to themselves before snickering. Part of him was worried that the two were planning to cause trouble, but he figured that neither of them would be foolish enough to provoke a fight in this world. Just because it was a utopia, didn’t mean that the world was void of talented fighters. It was practically a requirement, given how often multiversal travellers and outcodes stopped here.

As the papyrus went about his shopping trip, he wasn’t too surprised when Killer flagged him over quickly. When he went to see what he’d found though, Pyre was left unimpressed as the emotionless skeleton pointed to a piece of gum on the sidewalk. “Hey look, I found something! Think this’ll work for your feast thing?”

“Killer… that’s a piece of gum.”

“Yeah? Just because I don’t have eye lights doesn’t mean I’m blind. Besides, you said for us to call you over if we found anything, and I found something. It’s even edible, so bonus!”

Already regretting his earlier wording, Pyre’s attempt to chastise Killer for being a smartass was interrupted by Dust flagging him down. “Hopefully it’s something good…” Turning back to Killer, he glared as he clarified, “Alright, how about I reword things? Call me over if you find a meat product that I can use in the feast.”

Ignoring the snickering coming from behind him as he turned away, Pyre rushed over to where Dust was, only to sigh as he saw the same shit-eating grin on his face. “Found a good napping spot. This bench is pretty comfy.”

“Nyeh! You’re supposed to tell me if you found any decent produce!” Grumbling to himself, it became clear quite quickly that the pair had planned this. “Only call me over if you find good produce, understand? I have a lot of shopping to get done and I cannot spend all of my time chasing after you two!” Huffing, he quickly walked off back to where he’d been shopping originally. He really hoped that Cross was having better luck on his end of things.

“Ready or not, here I come, marshmallow!” It took every bit of training Cross had to not snap back at Butcher for the comment, knowing that doing so would give away his current location. Lucky for him, the garden was vast and had plenty of ground for him to hide in. Still, he knew better than to stay still; keeping moving would be best considering who was chasing him. If he just hid in a bush, then Butcher would sniff him out in no time.

At the very least, his plan was working to keep the big guy occupied and distracted from his brother’s shopping trip, though he was still questioning his sanity given the plan he’d ended up going with. There wasn’t any way to change it now though, so all he could do was keep going, running deeper and deeper into the gardens in the hopes of buying himself more time before Butcher actually made contact.

Every twist and turn through the maze-like garden left the ex-soldier more and more disoriented, the thought that he’d gotten turned around and was actually heading towards his hunter having come up more than once. Sighing, all Cross could do was keep going and hope for the best at this point… best being that he didn’t get an axe embedded in his ribcage.

After however long he’d been going, Cross figured that if he hadn’t already been caught by now, he’d put enough distance between them for a break. Despite his training, he knew that he couldn’t go on forever at the same pace. It would be better for the monochrome skeleton to take a break now while he could, ensuring that he’d have enough energy to run when the time came.

Yet just as he sat down and leaned up against a tree, his instincts started screaming at him to move. Cross was quite thankful that he listened when he did, rolling out of the way just as a familiar axe went flying through the air and embedded itself in the tree he’d just been against.

“Oh bollocks, looks like I missed,” Butcher purred, slow steps taking him directly towards his axe and his quarry. Taking the hint, Cross scrambled to his feet and took off once again, all thoughts of taking a break now completely gone from his mind as he realised that his teammate would pounce on him the second he stopped. No, he had to keep going, and just pray that he wasn’t making some horrible mistake.

Pyre was finally starting to make some headway, having purchased a few essential ingredients, when he noticed that Killer was trying to get his attention. Seeing that the shorter skeleton was actually standing near a shop this time, he felt that this trip would turn out to be more promising than the last one.

He was so wrong. While Killer had indeed found a meat product as instructed, he was proudly gesturing to a regular old butcher shop with the more common meats found across the multiverse for sale. Beef, chicken, pork, and various fish all filled the counter, and Killer was acting like he’d found a cornucopia of goodies.

“Killer… we have all of this meat available to us at home,” he pointed out, frowning at the chuckle his words received.

“Not my fault someone wasn’t specific with their instructions, you just told me to find meat.”

“I told you at the beginning of our trip to find rare and exotic meats! Not- ugh, I don’t know why I’m wasting my energy arguing with you when you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure why you are either,” Killer shrugged, waltzing out of the butcher shop and leaving behind an annoyed Pyre and one very confused butcher. Apologizing to the people present for the disturbance, he quickly fled the shop and tried to get back to his shopping, ignoring the laughter echoing from the emotionless skeleton nearby. For someone with muted emotions, he sure did get an annoying amount of joy out of making others miserable.

He was half-expecting Dust to pipe up with some annoying misinterpretation of his instructions as well, only to see no sign of him. The taller skeleton cautiously went about his shopping, though he was distracted as he kept expecting his sullen friend to pop up with another joke to tell. But… nothing. There was no sign of him anywhere, and Killer even commented on his absence.

Growing worried, Pyre wondered if Dust had simply taken a nap on the bench he’d found earlier. But instead of finding the familiar sight of a sleeping skeleton, all there was at the bench was a hastily scrawled note. Got bored. Too many people. See you later. - D

“Oh no! Dust has wandered off somewhere! Oh, what if he gets lost? Or hurt? Or lost and hurt?! Oh nyoh-hoh-hoh, why did he go off on his own?!”

“Pyre, relax!” Killer commented, appearing beside him and clapping a hand against his back. “This is Dust we’re talkin’ about! Dude’s a one-man army, so if he gets in trouble, he won’t be the one hurt.”

“ … That’s somehow even worse! Oh, what if he hurts someone? We’ll be banned from ever shopping here again! And the king will be so mad! Oh, Killer! We have to find him before everything goes wrong!”

The smaller skeleton shot him a wry smile, looking at him as if he’d grown a second skull. “What part about relax did you not get? Ya gotta stop looking at all the things that can go wrong… and instead look at that sick-ass pachinko parlour! I bet I can double my G in there!” And off Killer went, waving for the other to follow him before he disappeared inside.

Sighing, Pyre went to check if he had enough to pay for the inevitable gambling debt that would come, only to frown as he patted his pocket. It. Was. Empty. “Killer, you scoundrel! How dare you pickpocket the great Pyre?!” Maybe Killer was right and Dust could take care of himself for a while. Even if the hooded skeleton was moody and prone to outbursts, he knew well enough to not cause a disturbance in a place like this. With that justification, Pyre found himself chasing after Killer in the hopes of getting some of his G back before the idiot spent it all. He just had to pray that he wasn’t making some horrible mistake.

“Ohshitohshitohshitohshit! Fucking shit!” Cross was left cursing up a storm as he dodged swing after swing of Butcher’s blade, the larger skeleton cackling behind him as he swung his weapon haphazardly. Each strike came perilously close to hitting him, leaving him struggling to dodge and weave around as he struggled to see both where he was going and where his attacker was aiming.

In one of his moments of looking behind himself, the monochrome skeleton failed to see the one tree that he was coming towards. As a result, he crashed straight into it, the air fleeing his chest and leaving him winded as he collapsed back into the dirt.

He half expected to open his eyes to find a blade buried in his chest, only to find himself alone once he looked around. Sitting up, Cross looked to the surrounding foliage in disbelief. There was no way that Butcher had given up hunting him… no, this had to be a trap, or… or something.

His teammate’s cackling laughter seemed to echo from all around him, causing his head to whip every which way until he was certain that he’d give himself whiplash. “Why don’t we… change things up a bit, marshmallow? Chasin’ ya’s no fun if ya can’t see a fuckin’ tree in the way. So instead of gettin ya glasses, we’re gonna see how well ya can find where I’m coming from.”

“Oh, fuck…” Cross groaned, pulling himself to his feet and surveying his surroundings. In the time that he’d been winded on the ground, the other skeleton had hidden somewhere within the gardens, waiting to ambush him. This was most definitely not what he’d expected when he’d come up with this idea, his hate for such a stupid plan only growing. But there was nothing that he could do now except live with the consequences of his actions… even if that meant having Butcher stalk him like a piece of meat.

As the monochrome skeleton tried to get his bearings, faint rustling could be heard behind him. Whipping around, he saw a bush rustling nearby only for it to go still shortly after, no indication that the larger skeleton was in there. Another rustle behind him led to the same result, and once again he was left spinning in circles, with a raspy cackle echoing through the air as if to taunt him.

Well… at least someone was having fun, and more importantly was staying distracted to buy Pyre all the time he needed. Gritting his teeth, Cross decided to be proactive for once and summon one of his swords, knowing that he’d most likely be needing it to better fend off attacks. “Ooh, look who’s gettin serious?” Butcher’s voice was crystal clear, coming from right behind him. Whipping around with his sword ready, the shorter skeleton intercepted the incoming attack, their weapons clashing against each other with both skeletons in each other’s faces. “The marshmallow’s finally fighting back~ I love it when my prey struggles.” A tongue snaked out from between Butcher’s parted teeth, licking along his mouth as he looked at him with hungry eyes.

Even as part of Cross grew worried at the predatory gaze locked on him, his temper flared at the demeaning nickname directed at him. Pushing the scarred skeleton off of him, he jumped back before lunging at the other with a snarl. “I told you don’t call me that!”

Snickering, Butcher fell back behind the shadow of a nearby tree. By the time Cross rounded the corner, his opponent was already gone, disappearing into the nearby dark foliage. “This is what I get for trying to hide from a Horror variant,” he grumbled, fully expecting the rest of their night to be full of jump scares and the two of them clashing. If he got out of this without a few wounds, he’d honestly be surprised. About all he could do now was make the best of a bad situation and hope things turned out like he’d planned.

“You spent HOW MUCH MONEY?!” Pyre blurted out, about ready to wring Killer’s nonexistent neck. “We needed that money to buy the ingredients! Why would you spend all of our money?!”

“Technically I spent all of your money,” Killer snickered, looking pretty pleased with himself as he was forcibly dragged out of the third place he’d bolted into. Contrary to his claims, the emotionless skeleton had not doubled his money in the pachinko parlour. In fact, he’d hadn’t even broken even, resulting in Pyre grumbling as he dragged the other from his seat. Insisting that he could make back the losses, Killer had then darted into a shop to find some rare, one-of-a-kind item that he could sell for a ton of cash… only for them to come out of there with more junk to carry around and a replica of some rare, one-of-a-kind item that was utterly worthless.

Now Pyre’s companion was apparently in the mood for snacks and junk food, disappearing into a convenience store where he spent an ungodly amount of money on scratch tickets, cigarettes, and some local drugs that were legal. The skeleton had been just grabbing his snacks for another round of purchases by the time Pyre got his hands on him.

“This is just great,” the Papyrus variant muttered, slumping down to look at what his money had been spent on. “I’m broke, have none of the supplies I needed, and Dust is still missing! Can this day get any worse?!”

As if the universe saw fit to punish him for testing fate, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the first few drops of rain started to fall. “You had to say it,” Killer sneered, looking to the sky. “Though I gotta admit, I’m surprised that the rain didn’t start until you opened your big mouth. Woulda thought stuff like that only happened in the movies.”

“You are not helping my mood whatsoever, you good-for-nothing pickpocket!” Grumbling to himself, the tall skeleton knew better than to stay out if it was truly going to rain. “Come on, let’s find a place to shelter and wait out the storm. I refuse to add being soaked to my list of reasons for being miserable.”

The two dragged Killer’s purchases along as they hunted for an overhang to hide under, hoping that the storm would blow past and they could continue on with their shopping. Judging by how the local monsters were closing up shop and seeking cover though, Pyre didn’t have a ton of hope. “Oh, I do hope that Dust will be alright!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Came a familiar voice right beside Pyre, the suddenness of said voice causing a screech that may have cracked some nearby glass. Dust didn’t look impressed as the Papyrus turned to greet him, a bored look plastered on his face as he tugged his hood down a bit to keep out the growing wind. “I told ya I’d come back, right? Besides, why would you worry about me? I can take care of myself.”

“I told ya so!” Killer chimed in with glee, waving to his companion. “Heya Dusty! Where ya been?”

The other Sans variant just shrugged his shoulders. “Had a nap until someone woke me up. Then got bored again and went and played cards.”

“Please tell me you aren’t broke like Killer is,” Pyre groaned, wondering why all of his brother’s teammates seemed to have gambling problems.

“For the record, you’re the broke one Pyre. I’ve still got all of my G!”

Ignoring Killer’s comment, Dust just smirked and pulled out a large bag. The contents clinked against each other as he shook it, hinting that the whole thing was full of his winnings. “I don’t lose at cards.”

Before Killer could drool all over the bag, it disappeared back into Dust’s inventory. A book was then pulled out in its place, the hooded skeleton quickly tossing it to Pyre who fumbled and barely managed to catch it. “Found you a fancy cookbook. Thought you might like it. Picked up a few of the things the book said ya needed a bunch of too.”

When shown some of the ingredients that had been procured for him, Pyre felt ready to cry out of pure joy. “Oh Dust! You’ve saved the day, my mood, and my brother’s birthday feast!” Unable to hold back, he launched his arms around the shorter skeleton and hugged him close, missing the look of confusion, pain, and discomfort on the other’s face. By the time they pulled away, there was no sign of his expression having been anything but the neutral boredom from before.

“Right! With all of this and what we have at home, I should be able to pull the feast off! This book should help me turn even the most bland and basic ingredients into a dish for the ages, nyeh-heh-heh! Come now, let’s go home before the rain really gets going!” He didn’t have nearly the supplies that he’d hoped for, but the rain was shutting down the market so there’d be limited options for him to get more ingredients. That, and he had no money to get anything else thanks to Killer’s antics. Between what he managed to get earlier though and what Dust had got him, he’d hopefully have enough. About all he could do now was make the best of a bad situation and hope things turned out like he’d planned.

When the group returned home, Butcher was thankfully nowhere in sight. It seemed that Cross was still managing to keep his attention, giving Pyre all the time he needed to prepare the feast. Killer was almost immediately relieved of duty, the taller skeleton not wanting him to ruin anything else with his juvenile behaviour. The emotionless skeleton had just snickered and walked off, as if he’d accomplished his goal.

Dust wasn’t much help either, but he at least stayed around to sort and prep ingredients upon Pyre begging him to do so. There was simply too much work to get done in time for dinner. Had someone not used all of the tall skeleton’s savings to gamble and buy useless junk, perhaps he’d have more time like he’d planned for. But as it stood, he figured that Cross could inevitably only hold his brother’s attention for so long before the smell of food would steal Butcher away.

Thankfully, the castle had a wonderful kitchen that allowed him to cook many of the dishes at once, speeding up the process as Pyre used his boundless energy to run this way and that. It was the fastest he’d ever prepared a meal before, especially when factoring in the fact that many of the dishes and ingredients were foreign to him. Thanks to the cookbook Dust got him though, several mouth watering delicacies were prepared and set on the table by the time Butcher made an appearance.

The scarred skeleton came in with Cross slung over his shoulder, the ex-soldier wheezing and covered in dirt and bleeding cuts. Plopping the short skeleton in one of the dining chairs, Butcher stuck his head around the corner to find his brother coming through with another armload of dishes.

“Oh, Brother! Welcome back! And Happy Birthday! I do hope you enjoy the present we prepared for you!” As he went to set the dishes on the table among the other ones, Pyre finally caught sight of a barely conscious Cross slumped over in his seat. “Oh goodness, what on earth happened to him?”

“Lil marshmallow bit off a bit more ‘an he could chew, is all,” Butcher chuckled, fingers reflexively hooking onto his dead socket before Pyre made a point of swatting at him for the bad habit. “So what’s all this then? Ya said somethin’ bout a birthday present?”

The younger of the two brothers just grinned and gestured at the table, his smile only growing when he saw recognition and understanding fill his brother’s gaze, followed shortly after by awe and hunger. “Stars know I understand how much food means to you, so I figured what better present than a feast! Everything at the table is yours to taste and devour as you see fit, brother! Most of these dishes or the ingredients used are from foreign universes too, to make the present more exciting! Do you like it?” He was practically bouncing in place as he waited for feedback, paying no mind to Dust bringing the last few dishes in to fill in the few empty spots on the long banquet table.

Butcher remained silent for a while, looking over the various dishes while visibly drooling. He seemed to be struggling to take in such abundance, which made perfect sense to the taller skeleton, given that they’d gone without for so long. “Heh,” his brother finally spoke up, turning to his brother with a wide grin. “Best present I eva got, thanks bro. I’ll be sure ta enjoy it.” With that, his brother took Nightmare’s usual seat at the head of the table. Given that their king had no interest in participating or assisting with the events, there was no harm in the action. In fact, it was almost like it was the king’s gift to Butcher, giving him an evening where he was the most important and the center of attention.

Instead of taking a seat himself, Pyre remained standing to help keep his brother’s plate full. He brought the older skeleton various dishes from all over the table, allowing him to taste a bit of everything that was prepared. At Butcher’s insistence, he helped himself to a few servings as well, not wanting to upset the scarred skeleton on his special day.

Dust remained quiet as he ate, taking a modest helping from a few of the nearest dishes. When some of them weren’t to his liking, a bit of blue magic served to bring other options to him, allowing him to remain seated at the other end of the table and away from the chaos.

Killer must’ve heard the ruckus in the dining hall, because it wasn’t too long before he appeared and started stuffing his face. While Pyre would’ve scolded him for his lack of manners, he quickly thought better of it as the end result would likely only be a headache with no change in behaviour.

And poor Cross just sat there, groaning something about pain and hunting and stupid. Whatever he’d been up to as a means of distracting Pyre’s brother, it might’ve been a bit too effective from the looks of things. Ever appreciative of his efforts, the tall skeleton made sure to save him a plate to thank him for his hard work. Hopefully the intent poured into all his meals would help soothe whatever pain he currently found himself in.

While his plans hadn’t gone as expected, Pyre found himself thrilled with the result. His brother was full and happy, and Pyre himself even had a new cookbook and several new recipes to add to his repertoire! All in all, things turned out better than he’d hoped. Now… all that was left to do was dump dishwashing duty on Killer as payback for the stolen G.

[corroded-hellfire]

Birthday Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: On your birthday, before cake or presents, you just want Eddie.

Note: This is my first time writing Eddie smut so I’m crossing my fingers it’s not awful. A million thanks to @eddiemunsonsmum for helping me! And this is dedicated to the wonderful birthday girl herself, @munson-blurbs​ 💕

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), p in v, oral (f! receiving), praise kink, breeding kink

Words: 3.5k

Eddie would never consider himself a cook. Or baker. But he was elbow deep in scattered ingredients and different cookbooks as he scrambled around the small kitchen in your shared apartment. He was trying to remember what timer was set for what, and what order he was supposed to put dishes in the oven. 

“Fuck,” he grumbles as he catches sight of the clock on the oven. He could’ve sworn he had plenty of time when he started, but the clock was ticking closer to the time that you’d walk through the front door. 

Present was wrapped, the cake was iced and waiting in the fridge, and dinner was finally in the oven. With a sigh, Eddie lets himself collapse against the counter. He wipes off his sweaty forehead with the back of his wrist but ends up smudging frosting in his hair. 

 Miraculously, he has himself and the kitchen cleaned up by the time you walk through the door. You never would have known the kitchen was in disarray as you walk in and drop your backpack on the table. Eddie slips up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing kisses against the back of your neck.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers.

A smile curls up on your lips as your hands rest on top of his as he holds you close to his body.

“Thank you,” you say.

“How was your day?” he mumbles against your skin.

“Not bad,” you tell him.

“Can I make it better?”

“Be my guest,” you say with a dreamy sigh, dropping your head to the side so Eddie can press his kisses along even more of your skin. 

“I made your favorite for dinner,” Eddie says. “And I don’t mean to brag, but there’s a cake in the fridge that’s homemade and looks pretty damn good.”

Turning around in Eddie’s embrace, you loop your arms around his neck.

“My own personal chef, huh?”

“Anything for my favorite birthday girl.”

 Eddie’s surprised at how good the food turned out, but he acts like he knew it would be delicious all along. He doesn’t let you clean up, of course, but tells you to go relax while he takes care of the dishes. You decide to lounge on your bed, hoping Eddie gets the hint of what you want your next birthday activity to be. Cake could wait. Being with Eddie couldn’t. 

It’s only a few minutes before Eddie wanders into the room, and you can’t help but wonder how clean the dishes really are if he did them that quickly. The smirk on his face knocks any thoughts about the kitchen from your head though, as he saunters over to the bed and crawls on top of you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he says. “Couldn’t wait until after cake and presents, huh? That needy?”

“Give me a different kind of present,” you say with a shrug. You scoot yourself further up the bed, nestling against the pillows and Eddie follows right along. He leans down to press his lips against yours, but you stop him with a hand on the chest. He furrows his eyebrows at you, and you tug the hem of his shirt up. 

Eddie sits back on his heels so you can peel his t-shirt off and you toss it somewhere over the side of the bed. Torso bare, he leans back over you and slides his hand up the front of your shirt. His hand is cold, and you giggle as he wiggles his frozen fingers up your stomach. 

“Eddie,” you whine. He chuckles and pulls his hand out enough so he can start to slip your shirt off your body. You sit up to help him and he throws your shirt over his shoulder, letting it land somewhere in your room. Eddie finally attaches his lips to yours as he uses one hand to hold himself up and the other hand to fumble with the button on your jeans. Your own hands are working on his belt and you’re not sure what’s colder: his metal belt buckle or his hands. 

“What do you want first, baby?” Eddie mumbles against your lips. You nip at his bottom lip before answering.

“Your mouth.”

“Anything for my good girl.”

Eddie smirks at the whine that leaves your lips at the nickname. He usually didn’t start out with that this early, but on your birthday, he wanted to make sure you knew just what a good girl you are. He gets your jeans off easily enough, and he sees how his words have already affected you as your panties stick to your core as he tries to slide them down. 

“Aw, baby,” he coos. “Already so worked up for me?”

“Thinking about you all day,” you tell him, lifting your hips to help him get your panties all the way off.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks it so casually, like he’s asking you how your weather was between classes today. 

“I-I had my meeting with my department this afternoon,” you say. It would sound like an out-of-place comment to anyone else, but Eddie knew that it meant you’d seen your favorite professor today. Your favorite professor who happened to be pregnant. 

“Oh,” Eddie draws out as he rubs his hands up and down your thighs. “So, you were thinking about me putting a baby in you, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. 

“Been wanting me to fill you up, huh? Pump you full of my cum and put my baby in that belly?”

His hands slide up your thighs, thumbs brushing dangerously close to where you want him. You whine and your back arches off the mattress.

“Shhh,” Eddie soothes and leans down to press kisses from your bellybutton up to between the valley of your breasts. “I’m going to take care of you, pretty girl, don’t worry.” 

His hand snakes its way between your legs and two fingers start to explore your folds. Eddie nips at the bottom of the black lace bra you’re still wearing, and you reach behind you to take it off.

“Good girl,” Eddie whispers against your skin as you toss the garment aside. He runs his tongue up the swell of one of your breasts, fingers moving simultaneously to brush over your clit. You moan out and Eddie takes your nipple in his mouth as his fingers tease all around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Eddie’s teeth lightly graze against your nipple as you arch your back, forcing more of your breast into his mouth. He pulls off with a pop and moves over to give your other breast the same attention. 

“Eddie,” you whimper, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his unruly hair. 

“Yes, princess?” he whispers against your skin, wet from his saliva. 

“Please,” you whine. 

Eddie kisses his way up past your collarbones and neck, melding his warm lips with yours. He rests his forehead against yours.

“Please what? Use your words, baby.”

“Want your mouth,” you breathe against his lips.

“It’s right here, sweetheart,” he says, a playful smile curling on his lips.

“No,” you say, gently shaking your head. “Don’t wan’it here.”

“Where do you want my mouth then, beautiful?”

No matter how many times you’ve done this and said far dirtier things to him, there’s still a heat that comes to your cheeks as you answer him.

“My pussy.”

Eddie hums as he drags his nose along your jaw and up behind your ear. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, teeth grazing your earlobe. Eddie lets his hands roam over your skin as he moves down your body. He hooks one of your knees over his shoulder as he settles on his tummy in between your legs. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, his own hips searching for some friction against the mattress. He rests his hands on either side of your heat and uses his thumbs to gently open you up to him. “Your pussy is so pretty, baby. Prettiest pussy ever. And all mine.”

He leans in and licks a stripe up your center, making both of you moan.

“Tastes so good. So fucking good.”

Eddie dives back in, tongue lapping at your juices as you reach down and bury your hands in his hair. You give it a tug as his tongue flicks over your clit, causing him to moan against you. It sends vibrations throughout your lower body, adding to your pleasure. 

Eddie looks up at you with his big eyes, the beautiful brown almost entirely swallowed by the black. His tongue continues its ministrations as you lock eyes, the whimpers steadily falling from your lips. He slips a finger inside of you, pumping it a few times as your slickness leaks down his hand, before adding a second finger. 

“T-There,” you moan out as Eddie curls his fingers up, hitting your spongy spot at the perfect angle. He doesn’t need to be told though, he knows your body as well as he knows his own. Tongue keeping up its assault on your clit, your hips begin to lift, but Eddie uses his free arm to pin them down.

“Are you going to start acting up?” Eddie pulls back to ask.

“No,” you answer with a pout.

“That’s my girl.” Eddie presses kisses on the inside of your thigh before attaching his lips back to your heat and sucking on your clit. 

“Close, Eddie,” you whimper, one hand coming out of your boyfriend’s hair to clutch at the sheets below you. He hums against you, encouraging you, as his fingers pick up their pace. 

Eddie pulls off your clit with a smacking sound and looks up at you through his eyelashes, the sight enough to make you cum on the spot.

“Come on, princess. Let go for me,” he says. 

You nod your head and Eddie brings his calloused thumb up to your bundle of nerves, sending you over the edge. Eddie preens as you moan out his name, and his fingers continue working you through your orgasm, letting your body ride out its aftershocks. 

He slips his fingers out of your pussy and brings them straight to his mouth. Moans emanate from him as he licks your release from his hand, your eyes following every little move he makes. 

“So good,” he says once he’s finished. He crawls back up your body, pressing sweet kisses along your skin as he goes. “You always taste so good, baby. Such a sweet pussy.”

Eddie smiles as he watches you try to catch your breath. Your face and chest are flushed in excitement and arousal, and Eddie swears it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He takes advantage of your parted lips and dives in, lips pressing to yours and tongue snaking in to seek yours out. The taste of your arousal in his mouth has you letting out a soft moan into the kiss.

You wrap your legs around Eddie’s hips, and he groans as his boxer clad erection grinds against your swollen core. 

"Baby," Eddie coos, cupping your cheek with his calloused hand, "I need you...need you so bad.”

His pleading only adds to the warmth between your legs. 

Your teeth gently tug on his lower lip before you tell him, "Then take me, Eddie." 

He wastes no time shedding himself of his boxers, not caring where he kicks them. You can already feel his precum dripping down the inside of your thigh.

“Gonna get you nice and knocked up,” Eddie whispers along your jaw as he reaches down to line himself up with your hole. He runs his cock through your folds, collecting the wetness there, and making sure to drag it along your clit. You gasp and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into his pale skin.

“You’re gonna look so sexy with my baby growing inside of you,” Eddie says. He finally pushes inside you and you arch your back, exposing more of your neck to your boyfriend. He instantly attaches his lips to your throat, sucking and biting as he buries himself up to the hilt in your tight pussy. “Round belly, swollen tits. Shit. Such a beautiful mama.”

“Fuck,” you moan as Eddie pulls almost all the way out before slamming himself back in. 

“So tight, princess,” Eddie says against your skin. “Always so tight and wet for me. So fucking good for me.”

You nod your head, unable to form words as he continues to pound into you. 

“S’this what you want for your birthday? Huh? Want me to fill you up? Fill you so full of cum that you’re bursting? Give you a little me to carry around inside of you.”

His words leave your pussy even wetter, drooling all over his cock as he pistons his hips, one hand gripped in the pillow your head is resting on. He uses his free hand to pinch the skin of your hip when you don’t answer.

“I asked you a question,” he says. 

“Y-Yes, Eddie!” you cry out. “Want all your cum. Want your baby in me.” 

Eddie smiles in satisfaction against the side of your neck. “There’s my good girl. Fuck, love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you pant out with labored breath. 

You can feel his cock dragging along your walls, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. He feels perfect, as always, but you want to feel him even deeper. You’re tempted to just lock your legs around him and flip your positions, but you know that if you ask first, you’ll get his sweet, sweet praise in return.

“Eddie,” you say. You tap his shoulder to let him know you were trying to get his attention, it wasn’t another moan of his name. His hips slow down so he can focus on your face in front of him instead of the delicious heat engulfing him. 

“Yeah, baby?” He cups your face with his hand and presses his lips to your forehead. 

“Can I ride you?”

He looks confused for half a second at why you would ask - but then it clicks. He smiles and presses a few soft kisses over your face.

“Of course. Thank you for asking, my good girl. That was very sweet of you.”

You blush at the praise as Eddie slips out of you. He wraps an arm around your waist and twists until you’re on top of him. He takes up your previous position against the pillows, and his hair splays around his head like a halo. You giggle to yourself at the thought. If Eddie was an angel, then you were the Queen of Indiana. 

You position yourself over his cock and start to sink down. Eddie runs his hands up your thighs and grabs your hips. His hands only linger there momentarily though, as they work their way up your ribs and hold on to your breasts. He squeezes them gently in his palms and you moan at the combination of his hands and Eddie sliding deeper inside of you. 

“So beautiful,” Eddie says, and you don’t know if he was even aware he said it out loud. 

You let out a breath as you’re fully seated on Eddie, this new angle letting you feel him a whole lot deeper. 

“So good, Eddie,” you whine. Resting your hands on his chest, you start to rock your hips back and forth. Eddie’s hands trail from your chest down to settle on your hips. 

“I fucking love this view,” Eddie says, looking up at you with lust blown eyes. “On top of me, taking me so well. Watching your pretty tits bounce as you work yourself on my cock.”

You bite your lip as your hips keep the rhythm, toes starting to curl as you feel your second orgasm of the night building. 

Eddie’s restraint is quickly slipping away, and soon his hands dig into your hips and he begins to fuck up into you, unable to stay still with how good you’re making him feel.

With a whimper, your arms on Eddie’s chest that are supporting you start to give you, so Eddie sits up and holds you against him. He slides the pair of you back against the headboard so you can lay comfortably against his chest as your hips rock into each other, both of you chasing your highs. 

“Shit,” Eddie says after a particularly hard thrust. “M’getting close.”

You nod your head against his neck, too fucked out for words. The way his cock is twitching inside of you lets you know he’s closer than he thinks. You clench your cunt around him, making Eddie dig his fingers into your back.

“Fuck!”

A smile of satisfaction comes to your lips when you hear your boyfriend’s outburst. The coil in your lower tummy is tightening and you cling to Eddie’s shoulders.

“M’gonna cum,” you whimper softly into his ear. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Come on, cum with me, sweetheart.”

Eddie thrusts his hips up to meet yours. They stutter once, twice, then he’s cumming. Feeling his stickiness warm your walls tips you over the edge. You bury your face in Eddie’s neck, the two of you holding on to each other so tightly, and moan out his name as the coil inside of you snaps. Eddie holds your hip in one hand, rocking you along with him to ride out your highs. 

As you start to come down, you feel boneless and let all your weight rest on Eddie. He chuckles and scoots so he can lay down, bringing you with him. He lovingly strokes his hands up and down your back, pressing kisses against your hair or forehead, or wherever his lips can reach.

“You did so good,” he says softly. “You’re always so good for me, sweet thing.” 

Nose nuzzling against his neck, you smile and dot kisses around his Adam’s Apple.

“Just wanna lay here?” he asks you. “Or want me to clean us up?”

With a sigh, you bring your arms up to drape over Eddie’s shoulders.

“Never wanna move again. Always wanna stay right here with you.”

“We can do that,” he tells you.

“But,” you add with a soft chuckle. “I feel all sticky.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and squeezes you gently in his arms. 

“How about I clean us up and we have some cake?”

“Cake?” you ask, picking your head up. 

He playfully rolls his eyes at you and nods his head.

“Yes, cake. Birthday cake. Which I made from scratch, using the box stuff. I slaved away over a hot oven.”

“Hottest thing in the kitchen is still you, babe.”

Eddie blushes for the first time that night and you take that as its own present. 

He carefully slips out from under you and brings back a warm washcloth. He cleans you off first, taking care to be gentle and not overstimulate you, but also determined to keep the most cum in you that he can. Once he’s cleaned himself off as well, Eddie tosses the cloth into the hamper and claps his hands together.

“So, cake?”

“Can we have it in bed?” you ask, jutting out your lower lip in an adorable pout.

“Normally I’d say yes,” Eddie starts. “But I don’t want lit candles near the sheets.”

“Good call,” you say with a chuckle. “Or around naked skin.”

“Smart.” Eddie slips a pair of boxers on and tosses you one of his t-shirts. You slip it on, and he leads you to the kitchen. 

He makes you close your eyes as he pulls the cake out of the refrigerator and puts the candles on it.

“Okay, open.”

The cake sitting in front of you on the table may be the best cake you’ve ever seen. It’s not something you’d see in a bakery display, or something a fancy baker on tv would make. But it was perfect. The pink icing looks thick, but Eddie knows you like a lot of frosting. Crumbs of the chocolate cake underneath had somehow gotten on the pink, but it made it look like sprinkles. Your favorite part was the top, though, where Eddie had cut strawberries in half and arranged them in the shape of a heart. The candles surrounded the fruit, giving them a warm glow. 

Tears spring to your eyes and Eddie rests his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You giggle and shake your head. “Not a thing is wrong. This is the best birthday cake I’ve ever had.”

Eddie chuckles. “Sweetheart, you haven’t even tasted it yet.”

“Don’t need to,” you say, wrapping your arms around his middle. “It’s still the best.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the side of your head and secures his arm around your waist. 

As he sings Happy Birthday to you, you’re struggling to come up with a wish. Everything you needed was right here, in your arms. You manage to think of something, though.

“Okay, princess,” Eddie says once he’s done singing. “Make a wish.” 

You close your eyes, reciting your wish in your head as you lean in toward the cake. Taking care to make sure your hair won’t get caught in the candles as you blow out the flame, wishing for all your future birthdays to be just as amazing as this one. 

[writtenonreceipts]

rowaelin the only single person in the friend group?

AN:Enjoy!

The Singles Club Isn’t Always Lonely

As Rowan entered the local bar, he shook rain from his coat and hair.  For the past two days it had seemed like constant cloud coverage lingered and that meant rain.  Not that Rowan particularly minded the rain.  It just grew tiresome.  He had yet to find a reason to fully rejoice in it.

He waved to Brullo, the bartender, and headed back to the usual table where he and his friends usually took over.  Indeed, Vaughan and Connall were seated drinks in hand and in deep conversation about something.  Gavriel and Fenrys were shooting darts—Gav wiping Fenrys’ ass with the score.  Though Fenrys was always more in it for the social aspect than the competitive nature.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” Connall called when he looked up to see Rowan crossing the bar towards them. 

Shooting his friend a vulgar gesture, Rowan took a seat in one of the stool and drew a freshly opened beer towards him.

“I should ask you all the same question,” Rowan grunted.  He took a swig of beer and sighed.  “Between wives and girlfriends, I thought you’d all bail on meeting up.”

“Hell, no!” Fenrys shot a wild dart and came to sling an arm over Rowan’s shoulder. “Tradition.  As Asterin so lovingly reminds me, I need to spend more time with you losers.  I think it’s just so she can go to the shooting range with Manon and Elide, but you know.”

“Nehemia says that I’m hovering,” Connall said.  “As if I can hover.  She’s seven months pregnant, I should be allowed to be concerned.”

“You’ve texted six times in the last half hour, man,” Vaughan said.  He pointed meaningfully to his friend's phone.

Connall scowled. “Concerned.”

“Hovering,” Rowan said.  He took another drin.

“You have to let her live her life still, Con,” Gavriel said.  He plucked the round of darts from the board and turned back to his friends. “When Endara was pregnant with Aedion she and Evalin would go on week long spa getaways.”

Connall looked absolutely horrified. “But—”

“No,” Gavriel insisted.  “Space and foot rubs.”

“That contradicts itself,” Connall muttered.

“Just saying,” Gavriel said.

Sometimes, Rowan found it hard to believe that Gavriel had a son their same age.  Sometimes, Rowan found it hard to believe that Gavriel was as old as he was.  Of course, he would never say it to the man’s face.  Because getting his ass kicked was not on his list of things to do.

“This is why Rolfe and I communicate,” Vaughan said.  He grabbed Connall’s phone before he could check it for a nonexistent text.

“You and boyfriend have a very strange definition of communication,” Fenrys said. “You also need to lock your front door.”

“You need to knock,” Vaughan said unapologetically.

Rowan rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. “Where’s Salvaterre?  Why am I on the chopping block.”

“Because he texted,” Vaughan said emphatically, “that he would be late.”

“Elide had an important meeting at work and he wanted to take her out for ice cream after,” Fenrys grumbled. “They’re almost as disgusting as Conn and Mia.”

“See,” Rowan finally spoke up, “this is why I am remaining single.”

The group groaned, throwing peanut husks at him while telling him to grow up.  Rowan simply laughed.  It was a conversation they’d all tried to have with him.  Get a girlfriend Rowan.  Go out on more dates Rowan.  You work too much Rowan.

He knew they were just giving him a hard time.  For the most part.  But he also couldn’t help but let the words dig into his skin.

They’d miraculously been through a lot together.  Despite the age differences between them all, something had drawn them together with a love of history, hand-to-hand combat, and drunken nights of poker.

“Hey, assholes!” Lorcan entered the bar and exchanged a few words with Brullo before coming to the table.

“‘Bout time, man,” Connall called.  He kicked a stool out for the other man.

“I was supporting my girlfriend,” Lorcan said, “shouldn’t you be with your wife?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking Elide to marry you?” Connall shot back.

Lorcan launched into a coughing fit just as he took a drink of beer. “What?”

“It’s been two months and all we’ve heard from you is how great this girl is.  Coming from you that’s practically a wedding announcement,” Rowan added, grinning fiendishly when Lorcan’s face heated

“Yeah, you know, speaking of relationships, I haven’t seen you taking anyone out lately,” Lorcan groused.

Before Rowan could either shoot Lorcan the finger or snark back to him, Brullo arrived with another round of beer.

The rest of the night passed in easy conversation punctuated Fenrys’ claims that at the next poker night he would win every hand.  Granted he was on his third beer as he said this.

It was just like any other night.  And yet by the time midnight rolled around, he listened as his friends claimed necessity to return to domesticity.

Nehemia had cravings.  Elide, Manon, and Asterin were drunk and needed a ride.  Rolfe threatened to watch Bridgerton alone.  And Endara claimed Gavriel had left her kitchen a mess.  

Life as it should be was chaos.  And while Rowan knew he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he paid off the tab with Brullo—consequence of a lost bet—he found himself facing a night of pouring rain and a semi-drunk Connall to haul around.

#

When Aelin Galathynius swore a life of solitude, it was for a good reason.  She’d recently adopted a dog after all and Fleetfoot needed her undivided attention.  

Now, five years later, she regretted nothing.  Especially when Fleetfoot was such an excellent snuggling companion.

While her apartment was small, and admittedly shabby, it was home.  Had been since she’d moved out of last foster home five years ago.  Almost every single one of her friends had lived with her in that time.  From Manon deeming it for your own good so you don’t end up murdered in this hellish part of town, to Elide claiming that I have no idea how to live by myself, you have to help me.

The apartment had known many people.  Had known fights and tears.  Had known emotional breakdowns and dance parties.  

And yet, as Aelin came home from work on a glorious Friday evening, it felt empty.  Even with Fleetfoot eagerly dancing around her feet.  Even as she hooked on the leash and took a brisk walk around the block with Fleetfoot bounding along joyfully.  Even when she returned home and turned her music on while she made dinner.

Empty.

Only the pouring rain outside gave any indication of the outside world.

Aelin turned her music up louder.

Perhaps it would have been so bad if Elide were here with her.  Or Nehemia.  Any of her friends.  But it was date night and she knew just how much her friends had been missing their boys.  

Elide worked so much and she’d recently started dating Lorcan Salvaterre they barely saw each other.  Nehemia was having a baby with the love of her life.  And then even though she and Asterin weren’t the closest, Aelin did miss her drinking buddy.  And Yrene was so busy with her internship that all she had time for was her new marriage.

Aelin couldn’t have been happier for her friends, truly.  They were all living their best lives.  And so was Aelin.

She’d graduated with her degree in history, specializing in warfare and weaponry.  Now she was teaching part-time at a community college and part of a research team that was working an archeology dig out in Wendlyn.  Everything she’d wanted.  Everything she’d worked so hard to get.

Life was good.  Or so she kept telling herself.

“You really need to start locking your door!”

Aelin turned from the mess of spaghetti she was trying to make to find Elide, Asterin, and Manon entering her apartment.  She held a spatula out threateningly.

“You can't just barge into people’s apartments,” Aelin said.

“We can if the door’s unlocked,” Manon replied.  She wasted no time in kicking off her shoes and tossing her jacket onto Aelin’s couch. “Please tell me you have wine.”

“What’d Dorian do now?” Aelin asked as Manon easily went to the kitchen and found the bottle of wine.  Not the cheap stuff.

“Nothing,” Manon grumbled.

Asterin barked out a laugh.  “He brought up meeting his parents.”

“And moving in together,” Elide added.

Manon brandished the corkscrew threateningly. “Don’t make me use this.”

Chuckling, Aelin turned the burners of her stove off. “It’s Dorian.  You can tell him no to both things and he’ll get it.”

Manon grunted and began chugging her very full glass of wine.

“Lorcan mentioned moving in together,” Elide said. Wine spurted from Manon’s nose and Elide rolled his eyes. “Eventually.  He didn’t actually ask just one of those brief passing comments.”

“You know, I still don’t like him,” Aelin said.  She dished up a few bowls of pasta and started handing them out.

“Please the two of you are practically besties,” Elide said.  She gave Aelin a wink before settling in a chair at the small dining room table.

“Speaking of besties,” Asterin added, “Fenrys just sent me a text.  They are getting wasted at the bar.”

“Is Gav with them?” Elide asked through a mouthful of pasta.

“Yeah, thank the Goddess,” Asterin said.  “I don’t want to pick his drunk ass up.”

Manon made an approving sound and poured herself another glass of wine. “Because we are getting ourselves drunk.”

Aelin debated taking the wine away from Manon already, but shrugged.  She needed a distraction from everything else.  Before sitting down, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey she kept in case of emergencies and few glasses.  It was girl’s night, why not?

“You do know you’re going to have to talk to Dorian, eventually right?” Aelin asked, pouring out whiskey.

“Shush,” Manon said. “Talking is overrated.  We’ll just have sex and get over it.”

Aelin made a face. “I’d rather not think of you and one of my best friends in that way.”

“It’s sex!” Manon shouted. “C’mon, Aelin.  I know it can’t have been that long since you slept with someone.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes.  She most certainly should have taken the wine away.  Wine drunk Manon was a whole different animal than whiskey drunk Manon.

“Ohh,” Elide said, already pushing back her half-eaten bowl of pasta for the whiskey. “I might know of someone.  Actually, Lorcan knows him.”

“No!” Aelin shouted at the same time Asterin screeched, “yes!”

“He’s very attractive,” Elide said with a knowing nod.

“And works out, a ton,” Asterin added. “He and Fen are training for a marathon.”

Aelin didn’t know whether to be impressed or horrified.  She worked out and believed in a healthy lifestyle.  But she also believed in chocolate.  And cake.

Even as her friends slid side-glances her direction, Aelin ignored them.  They’d been hounding her to date more.  Ever since Sam had broken up with her when she wouldn’t move across the country with him and the mess with Chaol...Aelin hadn’t been in a serious relationship.  And she was fine.  Did she miss casual dates? Yes.  Someone she could talk to about everything and anything?  Yes.  Did she miss sex?  Absolutely.

On the last item she could rectify that easily.  Just swing by the nearest club, but Aelin had always craved connection more than casualties.  

She knocked back her shot of whiskey and nabbed the bottle from Manon who was well on her way to drunk.

Elide laughed at Aelin’s diversion from talking and got up to turn Aelin’s stereo up.

“You’ve gotta find a way to support Fleetfoot,” the petite brunette said, “being a single mom is hard.”

“Screw you!” Aelin growled.

“Pretty sure Lorcan’s already taking care of that,” Asterin said.

“No!” Manon and Aelin shouted together.

Cackling madly, Elide downed her whiskey and began dancing.  It didn’t take long before all four girls were drunk and dancing madly to the music.  And Aelin was able to forget everything else about the day and little comments her friends had made.

It wasn’t until after midnight that Lorcan and Fenrys showed up to take the other girl’s home.  Fenry, a bit tipsy himself.

“Baby!” Elide squealed when she threw open the door.

Had Aelin been a touch more wasted she would have missed the soft smile that flitted across Lorcan’s face as his girlfriend flung herself at him.  Aelin might not have understood where the hell that relationship had come from but she was slowly starting to accept it.

“Be safe,” Aelin demanded as she ushered her drunk friends out the door, Lorcan assuring her he had only drank one beer over an hour ago.

“Get a Tinder!” Asterin hollered as Aelin closed the door.

And just like that, she was left to an empty apartment.

#

When Rowan got into the business of researching ancient warfare and artifacts of war, he’d known it would give him hell in the future.  Not that he would regret it of course, but for the past five years he’d dealt with questioning papers, developing thesis, tossing out said thesis, and trying to appear that he knew what he was doing.

It was a miracle if he could accomplish that last item.

By the time he made it home from work, he was exhausted.  The text from Elide--how she’d gotten his number Rowan had no idea--declaring a night out didn��t help any.  But it had been a few weeks since he and his friend--all his friends had gotten together.

So he dragged his sorry hide into a shower and down to Brullo’s bar.

And just like always he was the last to arrive.

“Whitethorn!” Vaughan called out.

Rowan raised his hand in recognition before getting a drink from Brullo.

Already, his friends had their drinks and their girls--and in Vaughan’s case, boy.  Nothing about the night seemed far from normal.  Even if Rowan wasn’t as familiar with Asterin or Rolfe, being around this group of people always put him at ease.

“You look like hell, Rowan,” Nehemia said with a sympathetic smile.  She wore a simple gray dress that showed off her growing bump, her black hair twisted in thick braids.

Rowan offered a returning smile. “It was a hellish day.”

Connall thrust a beer into his hands. “Here’s to make it better.  Although my lovely wife has already graced you with her presence, so consider yourself lucky.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan shoved his friend away. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Too much,” Loran supplied.  As usual he was seated in the corner of their table, nursing a beer.

“Where’s Elide?” Rowan asked. “Seeing as she’s the one who made me come.”

Lorcan gestured out to the dance floor.  The dance floor.  Since when did Brullo let anyone start dancing?  Not in the past five years that Rowan and his friends had come.  Unless one of them or another patron got too drunk.

But there was some song with a deep, thrumming beat reverberated through the bar.  Someone must have bribed Brullo to put it on.  Likely the fiends who were dancing like they had no care in the world.

Fenrys and Asterin were practically glued together and were less dancing and more making out.  Nearby Gavriel and Endara were mostly laughing while tripping over their feet to keep with the beat of the song.  What caught Rowan’s attention however was Elide.

Or rather her dance partner.

The woman was tall, lean, and had the frame of a fighter.  She moved so easily to the music that Rowan was focused on her more than the song.  Her blond hair hung well past her shoulders in golden waves matching her gold dress perfectly.  But perhaps what was so striking was the carefree smile she wore.  The way she laughed and leaned into Elide as the song changed to a sultrier chord.  But neither woman seemed to notice, or care.

Until the blonde looked up and the low lights emitting from the dance floor set a low fire to her eyes and dug into him, holding him in place.  And his breath caught.

Elide broke the spell that had settled over him.

“Rowan!” She yelled and waved frantically for him to join the dancing.

“No,” Rowan called back firmly.  The last time he had decided to go dancing with Elide he had ended up shirtless, hungover, and in a car halfway to Mexico.  

Elide pouted at him before crooking her finger to her boyfriend.  Lorcan was already up and out of his seat making his way toward her.  It was still strange to Rowan to see the brute of a man soften for anyone.

Shaking his head, Rowan returned to the bar to get another drink.

“Can I get something as well, Brullo?” The airy confidence of the woman, snagged Rowan’s attention and he turned to see the Elide’s former dance partner standing beside him.

From this angle, Rowan was better able to see that spark of gold and blue in her eyes, a splash of freckles on her nose.  She was beautiful.

“You must be Rowan,” she said with a single brow raised.

He nodded and accepted a beer from Brullo. “I am, but I don’t seem to know you.”

Her mouth pulled up on one side. “Aelin.  Elide and I grew up together.  Figured since I never see her anymore, I had to come see what this place is all about.”

“Elide dragged you out here, didn’t she?” Rowan asked.

“She is terrifying when she wants to be,” Aelin agreed.  She offered him a full grin in that instant and Rowan knew that if possible, he would try and make her smile like that again. “And she offered to pay my tab.”

“Meaning Lorcan will be paying your tab,” Rowan said.

“He does have his uses, other than being a brute.” Aelin laughed at that and took the drink Brullo offered her.  She turned her gaze on him, those eyes so full of light. “I suppose I should get used to him though.  Elide seems to like him.”

She wasn’t wrong Rowan realized.  “Anyone that can get Lorcan to actually get out and dance is a miracle worker.”

“Except, she didn’t get you out there dancing,” Aelin said.  She let out a soft laugh leaning closer to him.

And there it was, something different.  And perhaps Rowan wouldn’t identify it for a long time.  Wouldn’t really know what it was.  But there was something about Aelin that drew him in.  He’d known her for all of ten minutes, didn’t even know her last name, and here he was completely ensnared.

“I don’t dance,” Rowan said.

Aelin cackled. “Not yet anyway.”

She knocked back the rest of her drink and grabbed Rowan’s arm pulling him to the dancefloor.

Perhaps if they’d been paying closer attention, they would have noticed the high-five Asterin and Elide exchanged.  Or the passing of bills between Vaughan, Connall, and Gavriel.  There was a great deal they didn’t notice.

Not how the rain stopped pouring outside.  Not how the emptiness of the night was overcome by more than music and alcohol.  It was a silent shift.  A careful one.  One that would become more than alright with them.

#

as always thanks for reading!

tags:

please reach out if i missed you and let me know if I put you on the wrong tag list/want to be removed.  it’s generally going to be easier for me to just have basic acotar/tog lists and not go into too much worry about that, so just and fyi…anywho  

@tottenhamboys20  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @lysandra-ghost-leopard @harrymoncheri @firestarsandseneschals @emikadreams​  @rapunzel1523 @booksofthemoon  @highladysith​ @fangirlprincess09

[therealvalkyrie]

hiiiiiii can I request a romantic ukai x fem reader? maybe a little angst but ends in fluff?? love your writing literally so muchhhhh and I’m so happy you started watching haikyu :)

Hiiii my love!! Thank you so much, you are literally the sweetest please😭🥰 I hope this is what you were hoping for! It’s a little light on the angst, heavier on the fluff, but I was in a ~mood~ while writing soooo it is what it is haha:)

Pairing/setting: Ukai Keishin x Female!Reader, canonverse

Warnings: mild, mild angst, fluff

Word Count: 793

come send me a request for my drabble sprint event! <event now closed

“Fuck,” you breathe as you finally toe off a stubborn left shoe and lean heavily against the wall. 

Today had been hard. Customers seemed particularly vindictive and your manager had scheduled you a surprise double shift. It was very unlike her to screw around the schedule so much, so when she looked at you with big apologetic eyes and asked if you could stay, of course you’d said yes. But that meant several more hours on your feet waiting tables and smiling through the dinner rush.

To put it frankly, all you want now is a glass of wine, a soak in the bath, and perhaps a teensy little cry. And Ukai.

The boyfriend himself pokes his head into the hallway smiling his lopsided grin just as you’re kicking your shoes under the bench. He’s wearing those ridiculous yellow rubber gloves for dishwashing and his usual orange hoodie, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows.

“Hey, baby,” he greets when you wrap tired arms around him and sink your face into the crook of his neck. He keeps his soapy gloves away from your back, but presses an affectionate kiss to your temple. “How was work?”

You huff a sigh. “Exhausting. I’m exhausted.”

He hums in commiseration and rests his chin on top of your head. His next words vibrate soothingly through you. “Why don’t you go start a bath? I’m almost done with the dishes and then I’ll join you.”

“Okay,” you exhale into his chest. “Okay.”

Reluctantly, you peel yourself away from him as a yawn overtakes you. Your jaw stretches wide and your back arches into it for a long moment, causing Ukai to laugh openly as he goes back to the sink. 

In the bedroom, you allow yourself to sink into your cushy armchair in the corner and just sit for a minute. You slouch dramatically, chin dropped to your chest and legs stuck out long in front of you. The waist of your pants dig uncomfortably into your stomach. 

Ugh. 

The sounds from the kitchen — splashing water and erratic humming — mix with the night sounds of your street drifting through the cracked window in an ambient lullaby. Your shoulders sink lower, eyes droop heavily, peacefully, until you’re jerking awake in the disorienting way sleep deprived people do. Another yawn sneaks up on you. 

“Shit.” You rub your eyes and force yourself to stand up, peeling off your black polo shirt as you cross the room to your closet. “Pajamas, pajamas,” you mutter, sifting through your disorganized drawers. You employ the sniff test to approve a miraculously clean pair of sweatpants and acceptable tank top, then turn to toss them on the bed before removing the rest of your work clothes.

You stand there for a minute staring at your bed. If you strain your ears, you’re sure you can hear it calling to you, but you turn away wearily. Ukai’s right; a bath would do wonders for you right now.

In the bathroom, you turn on the water and open your medicine cabinet while you wait for it to fill. Face wash, toothpaste, and lotion are all acquired before you set them by the sink and sit down on the closed toilet. You bury your face in your hands.

Today had been hard. 

“Hey.” Ukai enters the door you left open and shuts it behind him. He’s already naked, and you let your hands drop to admire him for a second. A dopey smile spreads across your face. He’s just so handsome. 

“C’mere, baby,” you murmur, motioning him forward with grabby hands. He takes your hands in his big, long-fingered ones and sinks to his knees in front of you. You sigh, contentedly, this time, when he presses a kiss to your forehead and gathers you forward to him. He smells comfortingly like Pine-Sol and cigarettes. “You’re so pretty,” you drawl into his shoulder, prompting his hands to smooth slow circles across your back. 

“You’re the pretty one.”

“How ‘bout we both get to be pretty?”

“Hmmm.” He pretends to consider it for a moment. “That sounds alright.”

“How was practice? Those kids bully you into retirement yet?”

He scoffs. “As if they could ever. Those kids are too polite for their own good, if anything. Did I tell you about our new manager? Yachi? Apologizes for every last little thing like her life depends on it.”

“She sounds sweet. I’ll have to drop by practice sometime, put those kids in their place. Make ‘em mean again,”  you joke, pulling back to smile down at him.

“Please,” he groans. “And bring those pastries from the diner like you did last time, they’ll worship the ground you walk on.”

“Whatever you say, Coach.”

“Oh, cut that out.”

[anthrogothic]

Body/Prision

~Well, this is the first fic I've posted (not that I've written many). Maybe I found it interesting to explore the emotional and psychological side of the clones and, of course, Echo. Besides, of course, other little things. Hope you like it. 🥺 (and sorry for any mistake as this fic was originally written in brazilian portuguese).

Second part heeeeree

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader (in this chapter only Hunter and Wrecker appear for now)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Body insecurity and bullying.

You were always a woman of science. Curious, persistent and genius. As a child, you loved growing plants and watching animals. Sometimes experimented with changing the color of flowers in jars with colorful products or hatching small eggs of birds and reptiles in small boxes bathed in light and heated cloths. You once set fire to his parents Aldeeranian Silk curtains, after pointing a magnifying glass in front of the sunlight streaming through the windows.

No wonder you was one of the top students at Naboo's Faculty of Science when was older. After all, you were one of the few females in your class. Being constantly the victim of offensive comments and jokes, mainly because of baggy clothes that didn't mark your body, adopted after years of harassment for your sharp curves. Your glasses and voluminous hair didn't do much for the "jokes" to stop. Withdrawn in any group of popular and partying colleagues, you had nothing but to study with your few fellow “nerds”.

As a result, you soon got your first job in the field. Standing out so much that you was invited to participate in the cloning processes on Kamino a few times, even creating a certain professional relationship with Nala Se, the chief scientist.

You weren't a fan of cloning, even though it was incredible, you found it somewhat unethical in relation to the impact on the lives of Jango Fett clones. They weren't just battle products or numbers to you, but Human Beings with as many rights as anyone else. That they should have autonomy over their lives. But work is not always 100% pleasant, as much as it is something you love as long as you understand being human.

With your occasional visits to Kamino, you ended up having the sympathy of the clones, precisely for treating them like ordinary people, with different names and personalities despite the identical DNA and their fateful serial numbers.

You even ate with them in the cafeteria instead of the staff room and played with them in your free time and some would sneak men's uniforms for you, who were too bothered by the looks and teasing you received in your tight women's uniform.

One day, during a typical meal with your friends, a tone of laughter and nasty comments made you take your attention off your plate.

You poked your clone friend in the shoulder on your right.

"What is happening?"

He, without even looking up, snorted a laugh and spoke before taking the meal to his mouth:

"So you don't know the subject of the moment? There is a new squad among us. Weird… but they haven't suffered a single casualty on the field so far."

You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck a few times in an attempt to see something.

"I was not informed of this. I have not been assigned to inspect newly graduated soldiers for some time. But why the laughter and so much whispering?"

Deep in your brain, the bitter memory of your college days was pulled.

Your friend gave you an incredulous look, gesturing to find the right words to avoid any reprimand from you:

"They… well… are technically defective. Very different from us. No wonder they nicknamed them The Bad Batch."

He stifled a laugh. Soon getting punched in the arm accompanied by a scowl from you.

"Okay, okay. Forgive me, clone rights advocate."

His irony was clear, making you roll your eyes and get up, heading towards the counter where they left the used dishes. After thanking the wrinkled green lady who served the meal, you turned in the direction of leaving the cafeteria, but a sharp impact on your face and chest propels you back, followed by a lot of pain and strong hands gripping your elbows.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

A familiar, but deeper and stronger voice resonated in your ears, making you open your eyes faster than you normally would, as you bring your hand to your forehead and in the background thanking the Maker for wearing contact lenses instead of glasses today . It took you a while to map the face of the man in front of you. His long dark hair fell to his shoulders, his red bandana letting out a few shorter strands across his forehead, his almond-shaped eyes looking a little worried, and finally, a tattoo that covered the entire left part of his face.

He was familiar…but at the same time very different from the other clones. Even the armor, grey and red. Definitely seeing a different face in that cafeteria was a bit intriguing.

"I think you broke her, Hunter!"

A loud, husky voice came from behind you, making you turn your back to the tattooed man, just to behold the huge soldier who covered your entire field of vision.

He was huge, broad and with perfectly shaped muscles. Gradually, your eyes traveled from his abdomen, across his broad chest to his face. This one had no hair. He had a blind eye, with a huge scar running from there to the ear. The clone's good eye looked you up and down, literally.

"I'm fine… sorry… I-"

You were shocked by the image of both men. Could it be they who your friend had spoken of?

You can barely complete your sentence when interrupted by a clone next to you.

"Well well. The scientist and her laboratory freaks. How comical..."

He didn't even stop to stare at you, being followed by two other clones who clearly enjoyed the bad joke.

The men beside you clenched their fists and the bigger one growled, taking long, heavy strides in front of you, until he was stopped by the tattooed-faced clone, who practically jumped in front of him, bracing a hand on his chest.

"Forget it, Wrecker. It's not worth it… and we can't take another warning for assault in the cafeteria."

The taller one nodded a few seconds later, clearly disappointed not to get his hands on his attacker.

With slow steps, you approached them, curious and also irritated by the other clone's words.

"Idiots."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your voluminous breasts.

"You are the new squad the others are talking about, aren't you?"

There was a certain wonder in your voice now.

"Force Clone 99, doctor!"

The two said in chorus, with clear pride in their words and saluting.

"The rest of the team is going through the assessment upstairs. Miraculously we both got through!"

Said the taller clone, with humor in his voice, pulling a smirk from the tattooed clone.

You smiled, even more in awe of them. They were beautiful, unique and not "sloppy".

"Nice to meet you Hunter and… Wrecker, isn't it? My name is Y/N, I work in the lab."

The two looked at each other, minimally polite treatment to the clones was a little rare around here.

"We've heard about you. Won't you give me a warning? For… bumping into you?"

Hunter was a little suspicious, moving closer to you, watching your forehead. Looking for any evidence of injury.

"Oh no, of course not. It was an accident. I also barely looked where I was going."

You tried to be as gentle as possible, despite your brow and nose bothering you, already realizing that it couldn't be too easy for them to get along with each other. You continued:

"Trust me, I know what it's like to be bothered all the time by little jokes and to have people pick on me out of simple dislike. I'm not like the rest of the employees."

Wrecker approached you, already with a content expression on his face.

"There is! I liked her! At least someone here doesn't hate us!"

The clone pulled you into a hug, pressing his side with yours. You blushed a little, as physical contact was never common with you.

Hunter continued with a suspicious expression and his arms now crossed, making him even more imposing, just taking the look off your face, when the communicator you carried in your pocket beeped.

Brought out of your reverie by Wrecker's tight embrace and Hunter's form, you picked up your communicator to read the newly arrived messages.

"Uh… I need to go. Nala Se never give me a break. See you later guys. Hope to meet the rest of you!"

You headed towards the exit, leaving a sympathetic smile as you left the clones. They were still there, trying to absorb how kind you, a scientist, were to them.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 3

First

Previous

Next

It was a good thing that Master Fu was giving them a month to get used to each other before he was going to make them start posting, because Chloe doubted any of them would give a convincing performance if they were supposed to start acting as friends.

It’s almost like suddenly shoving five people into a confined space and saying ‘play nice’ caused tensions. Who knew?

They were, for the most part, avoiding each other.

After all, even before the whole ordeal, their best relationships with each other were tense. Ladybug had something against Chat, Carapace didn’t see eye to eye with Ladybug, and everyone definitely hated Chloe.

The only person who didn’t seem to be mad at anyone was Rena… but she was also relatively new, and Chloe was pretty sure everyone agreed with her when she said that Rena was annoying.

Chloe walked into the kitchen and fought back a wince when she saw Rena at the table eating cereal. She turned around as slowly as possible. Maybe she wouldn’t notice her, she was on her phone after all --.

“Chloe!”

Dang.

Chloe turned back around and tried for a smile, exhausted as she was. The worst part of all of this was that none of them could properly express their grievances without fear of someone being akumatized.

“I have some questions for you!”

She was still going to be super passive-aggressive, though.

“Again? Didn’t you get enough information the first few times?”

“Nope! Every answer just gives me more questions.”

She supposed she should just be glad that she wasn’t currently in costume. Her wings tended to buzz when she was annoyed and she doubted Rena could take any of them being angry with her.

“Okay. Go ahead, I’ll answer while I make myself food,” said Chloe.

Rena started questioning her about her powers. Luckily they just seemed to be the basics of her powers (Do all bees listen to her or only worker bees? Does she need to eat a lot of honey to create honey in battle? How do her wings carry her if, by all known laws of aviation, there is no way --?). Sure, they were awkward questions to answer because she only had theories, but the words ‘I don’t know’ seemed to satiate Rena just as much as proper answers.

She saw people shuffling in to make food and take it back to their rooms as quietly as they could while Rena was distracted with Chloe. She sent them glares out of the corner of her eyes but she didn’t call out to them or anything. This was a consequence of her own screw up, she would have to be the one to deal with it.

So, she drizzled honey on her cheerios and resigned herself to answering more questions.

~

Know what? Even if this is the direct result of her own mistake, she was allowed to complain.

And complain she would.

These people are the worst.

You already know why Rena was annoying to live with. Her constant questions gave Chloe no peace outside of her room.

And, inside her room, she had to deal with listening to Ladybug working on… something above her at all hours. Did Ladybug sleep? Signs point to no. Chloe wished that Master Fu hadn’t let her convert the attic into a room, it was very clear at this point that the people who made the house had not expected people to live in the attic. For some reason.

Chat Noir was… a cat. He slept almost the entire day and left things everywhere in the few hours he was awake. (Chloe understood that he likely had a maid back at his house, she wasn’t used to not having her normal butler around herself, but even she was better about picking up after herself.)

The only slightly tolerable one was Carapace. He spent most of his time hiding out in his room, studying.

Chloe had considered getting a job to get away.

(She wouldn’t actually get one, obviously, that was peasant stuff. Still, the fact that she even briefly thought about it is proof enough of the stress she was under.)

Beyond that, chores were just… not getting done. Have you ever seen a cat do something it was told to? Seen a turtle do anything at all? No? Chloe hadn’t seen that, either. The two bathrooms were a mess of different products. The washing machine was constantly in use because people kept forgetting that they were the last person to put anything in. She was beginning to forget whether or not the floors were carpeted she hadn’t seen them in so long…

(The only things that got done were the garbage and dishes, and only because no one wanted the house to smell. Chloe wasn’t sure who did them. Chloe also didn’t care as long as it wasn’t her.)

So, yes, things were not looking good. The only reason no one got akumatized during that first week was that everyone was working to stay calm.

Eventually, they adapted like all humans -- or partial humans, because at this point she was pretty sure everyone was at least a little bit their animals -- do when put in a new situation.

Chat, after getting a single pimple because he couldn’t find one of his skincare treatments in the mess, ended up cleaning the bathrooms. It was here that the girls realized that some of the products in their own bathroom were, in fact, Chat’s products, but they were fine with it because now they didn’t have to bother cleaning.

Rena took up the rest of the cleaning. Apparently even the five of them were less messy than her younger siblings were. Whatever she found that had been there for days that wasn’t hers was thrown into Chat’s room -- which ended with a lot of things going ‘missing’ but it was better than finding stuff everywhere.

Ladybug ended up doing laundry. It seemed that Ladybug had some kind of knowledge about clothes (maybe it had something to do with the job she apparently had?), because they found that their clothes were completely devoid of wrinkles and that the colors were bright even after a few washes. They weren’t going to question it.

After seeing Chloe and Chat’s spending habits, Carapace had decided that he would be the one to go to the grocers. It may be Master Fu’s money, but apparently he couldn’t handle the idea of spending that much more than they needed.

And Chloe? Chloe did nothing.

Just kidding. She tended to all of the plants in and outside the house. She rather liked gardening, she thought, but she figured that it was just a side-effect of the bee miraculous. Either way, it led to the group having fresh herbs and vegetables on hand for cooking.

Hardly anyone cooked, but still. It’s the thought that counts... or something.

~

Chloe had finished her gardening for the day and now she looked at the sign up sheet for patrols.

She huffed a little when she saw that Chat had signed up for the night. Again.

She walked to Chat’s room to ask him to just let her have patrols tonight or at least take her with him.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes when she opened the door and found him curled up in a tiny patch of sunlight, asleep.

Wait… asleep…

She smiled at her kwami. Pollen never talked -- and she was pretty sure she’d never heard any of the others’ talk either -- but that didn’t mean that Chloe couldn’t tell that Pollen was disapproving of what Chloe was thinking.

“Oh, shut up --.” The kwami frowned and Chloe gave a little huff. “I didn’t mean -- whatever. Sorry. Buzz on.”

Chloe flew over to where Chat was sleeping and considered him for a minute. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep…

Well, who was she to disturb that peace?

She picked up his phone and turned off the alarm to wake him up for patrols. A finger pointed at him, she mumbled the embarrassing call for her powers (“Don’twakeupdon’twakeup ‘Sticky Situation’ stayasleeeeep -- nice.”) and smiled when he was almost instantly coated with honey. She hardened the honey around him to make sure he was properly stuck.

(The honey stopped at his shoulders, a good distance away from his face and hair -- she was pretty sure he’d kill her if she did that and, with his power, that wouldn’t be hard.)

She stepped back and admired her handiwork. 

She loved her power.

She snapped a picture and left the room.

Chloe hummed as she flew down the stairs to the main room. She crossed Chat’s name off of the list and replaced it with her own.

She made her way over to the couch and laid across it on her stomach to wait for patrols to start. She scrolled through TikTok absently, looking for ideas on what to do…

“WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON --?!” She heard Chat’s voice yell, confused, but it cut itself off. There was a beat and she heard him yell again: “PLAGG, CLAWS OUT! CATACLYSM!”

Ah. Dang. She’d been hoping that she’d already be gone when he woke up...

“CHLOE! WHAT THE HECK?!”

Did he really need to figure out it was her so quickly? Sure, she was the only one that could use honey, but come on!

She looked back at her phone for the time.

One more hour…

She saw Chat’s red face at the top of the stairs and tensed.

Well, there really is no harm in going early.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 10

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 9 ] [ Chapter 11 ]

[ Summary: End of School picnic preparations! ]

To celebrate the class’s successful final project, they were putting together plans for a large picnic in the park at the end of the last day of school. The last day wasn’t mandatory for students to attend unless they had work to catch up on or tests to make up. So Marinette was spending that time at home, busying herself in the upstairs kitchen, preparing food and treats.

A faint knocking sound distracted her a couple hours in, and after making sure she could walk away without anything burning, listened for the source. She gasped and smiled when she realized it was coming from above her, from her own room. The balcony! Chat must be here!

She ran up to her room and up to the lost, and sure enough, she could see Chat Blanc, seated on the balcony floor next to the trapdoor. She pushed it open quickly, and he perked up, his tail flicking and wings spreading out behind him excitedly.

“Princess! You came!” He smiled wide.

Marinette giggled and pulled herself up to sit next on the edge of the hatch. “But of course, I can’t just leave my Knight outside like a stray now can I?” He laughed at that and she hid her smile behind her hand. “So what are you doing here, gryphlet?”

“Well you see,” he flourished a hand dramatically as he spoke, “I heard that today of all days was your last day of collège, and I wanted to congratulate you. So here I am.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You sure it’s not because I'm cooking? If you heard about it being our last day, then there's no way you didn't hear that we’re planning a picnic later, too.”

He gasped dramatically, setting a clawed hand to his chest like he had been hurt. It did nothing to erase the cute smile on his face, though. “You doubt my intentions, Princess? Well, you are right to do so,” he sighed dramatically. “Indeed, I am not just here to congratulate and shower you in praise, but to rob you of your goodies. Forgive this dashing rogue of his glutinous ways?”

He fluttered his eyes at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. “You are forgiven, on one condition,” she raised her hand, index finger raised to indicate her one condition.

“Name it,” he leaned in, looking ready to do anything.

“Help me with the baking and cooking for later,” she stated simply with a coy smile. “You can eat a portion of anything you make yourself. That’s the means for you to get fed. Deal?”

“Deal!” He hopped to his feet with a big grin and she gently laughed, happy to see his energy. She led him back down into her room and then into the kitchen.

She quickly checked on everything, making sure nothing had burned while she was gone. Satisfied, she waved Chat Blanc to join her at the counter. His previously excited mood was replaced by slight nervousness. He looked unfamiliar with the layout, though his eyes sparked with curiosity. Marinette tried not to stare as she cleared her throat and started introducing him to the ingredients and tools. “Now, don’t touch anything just yet,” she added when she finished showing him around. “Cooking has ground rules you should always follow.”

“Like a chemistry lab?” His ears flicked and wings shuffled, and she giggled, nodding.

“Yep, just like a chemistry lab. First, let's get you an apron.” She grabbed one of the hooks by the stairs, and as she went to toss the neck strap over his head, she noticed the decal on the front. Kiss the Cook. She blushed and turned it backwards, swiftly putting it on Chat before he could see. Now the decal was hidden from view and she wouldn't have to think about it. She then went behind him to tie the waist strap, but paused as she looked at his wings in the way.

“Something wrong?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your wings...These aprons are usually for my parents. I only use them when my wings are bound,” she said quietly, a bit awkward and unsure.

“Oh,” he replied softly. Her breath caught and she stepped back as his wings moved. They dropped slightly, only to completely fold up, pull against his back. He smiled at her gently over his shoulder. “Better? As long as you don’t tie it too tightly, I��ll be purrfectly comfortable like this.

Dropping her head to hide another blush, she nodded, coming closer and tying the apron. “So, uhm, next thing. Always keep your hands- uh, talons, washed.” He chuckled at her fumbled pun but nodded and went to the sink. She mentally facepalmed, knowing it would be awkward to wash gloves.

She carried on instructing him, meanwhile trying to keep to the edge of his vision until her flustering calmed down. She made sure he knew never to cross contaminate foods, to always clean the work area as they went, and continue to wash hands frequently. She scolded him when the oven timer went off and he almost reached in without proper hand protection. He was sheepish about it, but to her satisfaction, he didn’t make the mistake again.

At some point, she hadn't noticed the amount of flour dusting him because of how well it blended in. She only realized it when he had patted her head in reassurance that he could do a task without help now. The pat left a white handprint in her midnight hair, and she guffawed indignantly when she noticed it in her reflection on a mixing bowl. She didn’t bother trying to get it off, though, knowing it was pointless.

Finally, with quiche, pasta salad, croissants, and macaroons all done after a few more hours of working together, they were now sitting on the floor, waiting for the bread rolls to finish. The dishes and counters were already clean, the aprons were back where they belonged, and Marinette had even let out her wings to stretch them out alongside Chat Blanc’s. She tried not to think about their feathers brushing as they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the oven like a pair of tired but happy hawks.

Chat started humming as they sat in comfortable silence, and she listened to the gentle sound. It was enhanced by a subtle purr, and she had to hold her breath to keep from giggling at the cuteness of the moment.

When he stopped, she asked in a whisper, “What song was that?”

“Hm? Oh,” he smiled softly and rubbed his neck. “A lullaby my mother used to sing. ‘Robin and his Maiden’. I made my own little parody of it not long after I got my Miraculous. Well, I only managed to do the first line, really, I'm stuck on the rest.”

Marinette sat up, attention caught. “Tell it to me, I want to hear.”

He hesitated, a blush under his mask indicating it was from shyness and not from doubt. “The original first line went like this: Little Robin on a roof, without his Maiden. The story is about Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Now I say it like this: Little Kitty on a roof, without his Lady.” Marinette giggled, realizing the comparison to her alter ego. “I’m stuck on the rest, because the story doesn't seem to quite fit with the changed names, you know?”

With a nod of understanding, she nudged his shoulder with her own. “Art is hard, I know. It’s okay to be stuck. You should try playing with the names a bit, maybe the rest will come to you along with fresh inspiration.”

He nodded and looked away, back to the oven as he began to hum again. Soon, the hums turned to words. “Little Gryphon on a roof, all alone without his Princess,” he gave a cheshire grin as she burst out in laughter and a fresh fluster. She pushed him over and he laughed as he flopped on the floor. She stood up and huffed, hiding her smile as she checked on the bread. The timer went off just in time, and, feeling satisfied with their golden brownness, she took them out and set them to cool on the counter.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. “Everything is done in time, that’s good. The picnic is in an hour.” She turned to Chat with a soft smile. “Without fail, I always end up late to meet-ups because I put way too much on my plate right before hand. Looks like I’ll be on time this year. I couldn't have done this without you, Blanc.”

He smiled back at her from his place on the floor, looking perfectly content to be there as he practically basked in her thanks. She laughed, feeling light and newly carefree. When they lulled back into comfortable silence, he sat up and looked at the clock himself. A sad smile replaced his normal one.

“Looks like I need to go before then. I have somewhere to be later, too.” He stood, brushing the last of the flour off his white suit, his wings fluttering as they too shook out little puffs of powder. Marinette nodded and joined him, leading him back upstairs and out onto her balcony.

“Thank you for stopping by, gryphlet. I had fun,” she looked away, smiling to herself. “And don’t forget these, your promised treats for helping.” She handed him a cardboard pastry box, containing a few of the goods they had made together.

He beamed at her as he accepted it, and then took her hand in his and bowed. “It was my pleasure, Princess.” He kissed the air above her knuckles and she giggled, struck breathless by his action. He straightened back up and let her go, smiling wide. “I’ll see you again soon.”

And just like that, he was leaping from her balcony and gliding away on wings that matched the sky and clouds.

It took her a little while to go back inside, having taken her time to be dazed as she processed the last few hours. Tikki had broken her out of it with barely restrained giggles and a reminder that they needed to get ready for the picnic with her class.

As expected, the hour passed by quickly after that, and with a little help from her parents, all of Marinette and Chat Blanc’s efforts were brought to the park and set out on tables alongside everyone else’s contributions.

Everyone in their class made it to the park, and a few had even dragged along some family members who were willing to celebrate with them. Many of them spent the whole picnic talking about the school year, and all the random moments that stuck in their minds. Hawkmoth and some Akumas were brought up at some point, and almost half an hour was subsequently spent on everyone acting out each other's Akumatized versions in light and welcomed jest.

When it all started to dwindle to a close, everyone spent time making summer plans together and discussing which lycées they were going to. It was sad to think that their group, together for four years strong, was going to be split up. Luckily, everyone had plans to join extracurricular school groups that were likely to have them meeting up just as often as before. Even their humanitarian projects like planting public trees and gardens was something they were excited to continue.

If anything, they all knew that distance wasn’t going to make their bonds any lesser.

And so, all in all, Marinette had a good time, and she felt ready to keep going into the future.

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 3: Laoshi Mao

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written by 

AJ Dunn

It had been two years now since Adrien moved to Shanghai. At first, time seemed to go by so slowly as he was waisted his days at home and went out at night to train. However, after the first few months, he began going insane. He decided to sit and watch Chao Sifu as he taught the younger kids the same exercises he was mastering at night. He held several classes throughout the day, some for the smaller children, and others for the more advanced kids. However, he never saw groups of adults. 

“You might as well change your clothes young Adrien, and join me.” Chao Sifu said without missing a single movement. They were practicing outside under the blossoms of the over-hanging trees. Adrien nodded and jogged off to change his clothes, he left them here so he didn’t have to carry a bag around town. He returned to the group and Sifu motioned for him to take the lead in front of the kids. He knew the exercises well and began right where Sifu left off. He watched the kids’ faces and they moved in sync with him. He never realized how much fun it would be to participate in a group activity like this. He once gave his Chinese class lessons in fencing and vise versa, but this was something else. They looked to him as if he were the Sifu. His heart was thrilled. 

Sifu walked around the group inspecting the movements of the children and corrected the ones who were out of step. Adrien began showing up every day at the same time and spending almost the entire day either leading the class or walking around helping the kids who had more trouble. He especially loved working with the smallest of the children. One of which, a little girl, reminded him a lot of a younger Marinette. She was even just as clumsy. Sifu didn’t have patience for her so Adrien would have her step out of the group and he would practice solo with her several feet away from the rest of the group so that if she did fall, he would be the only one she’d trip on. 

The days began to go by faster as Adrien took up more chores at the temple including cleaning. After two years, Sifu allowed him to take on more chores and even lead a couple of classes on his own. Sifu seemed to be tiring of the physical labor as his body began to give out. Adrien was still a silent partner in the Graham de Vanily company and even insisted that he receives reports regarding new designs before they were approved. Many new talented designers were beginning to blossom under the new brand of the company, but he wondered why Felix never offered Marinette a position despite her many successful designs that were sponsored by the company. 

“She keeps refusing,” Felix answered as they spoke on the phone. “I even went personally to her apartment to offer her a full position.”

“You went to her apartment?” Adrien felt prickles in his skin. “Where does she live, who does she live with?” 

“Wo wo slow down lover boy. If you want those details call her yourself.” Felix was irritated with Adrien’s jealousy but he went out of his way to antagonize it knowing how much it affected him. “Look, I understand why you can’t be here, but she can’t.” 

“I know I know.” Adrien sighed

“You don’t get it,” Felix’s frustrations could be clearly heard. “You’re the reason she keeps turning me down.” 

“Turning you down?” Adrien began to fume.

“For the job offer,” Felix wasn’t playing now. “It’s not like I brought her roses and offered her my hand. Get control of your emotions.”

“You’re right cousin.” Adrien sighed dropping heavily onto the couch. “I have been keeping my mind occupied with things here so I don’t think about everyone there.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Felix sounded concerned. “Are you accomplishing what you went there to do?” 

“Yeah, I think I am. I am teaching children martial arts now and, I can cook pretty much any Chinese dish you could order at a restaurant.” He laughed. 

“So… are you thinking about teaching children when you return?” Felix asked skeptically.

“Why not, I used to be the best fencer in my class and even gave lessons to some of the least talented students I met.” He remembered the time Marinette tried out. He laughed again. She wasn’t bad for being such a klutz. “I have to go now though, it’s time to meet up with the Sifu for dinner. He clicked the phone off and was about to stand when his phone rang. It was Cheng Sifu. 

“I don’t need that nightly order you always deliver each night,” he said swiftly. A nervous tone in his voice.

“Is everything alright Sifu?” Adrien wondered if he should use Plagg to get there quickly despite the sun still being up. 

“No no, don’t come everything is okay, I just have family in from out of town.” Adrien’s breath froze in his lungs. He could hear laughter coming from the other end of the line. He knew there would always be a chance of Marinette and her parents visiting, Cheng was her great uncle. Adrien sulked as he set the phone back down. He stood up as if his body moved him. His thoughts weren’t his own as he stormed out of the apartment. Plagg zipped quickly so he wound’t be left behind. Even on the metro, he couldn’t sort his thoughts. What was he doing. He was going to see her. What if she saw him? How could he explain, he had been gone for 4 years now, with no contact with any of them. What would she say? How could he face her after what his father did to her, to all of them. Marinette had been the only one out of their entire class, and well school to not have been akumatized. 

He couldn’t stop his thought process even as he got off the bus by the market. He lifted his hoodie over his head wondering if it would be better to dawn his ‘other’ hoodie. So far Cat Noir, had not been seen in Shanghai, not since his first night here. Even Hei Mao was a blur in the night. Despite the fact his new costume was an exact replica of hers, he could always pass it off as someone playing dress up. But an adult? In Shanghai, in broad daylight with no festival or events taking place? Adrien stopped outside the restaurant. He spied the very back table, the one Cheng Sifu reserved for his family and special guests. He could see her laughing along with his mother and father. Her long midnight hair hung loose below her shoulders, her smile radiated as her eyes gleamed from the joy. 

Adrien couldn’t move as he stood frozen. He saw her look up as if she could sense someone watching him. He dropped to the ground. Toying with his shoe laces so as to not look suspicious to the passerbys. Was it safe to stand up? Did she see him? He slowly stood not looking into the window, but just as his eyes rose over the window sill he could see what she had been looking at. It was Fie, a friend they had made here when she had by chance visited her uncle for the first time and gotten lost. 

Adrien sighed and took his leave. What had he been thinking? Toying with disaster. He couldn’t bare to feel the shame his father placed upon him. He was glad that at least Marinette had escaped the fate of becoming evil, she was far too good for that. But the horror of watching everyone you care about wreak havok on Paris, not to mention on the various places they had traveled abroad. Even here in Shanhai. 

Adrien had made his way back to the temple. He couldn’t find Chao Sifu anywhere. He slipped his sneakers off and slipped through the living areas searching for him. Finally he sat on the floor outside his masters bedroom and knocked on the door. He could hear a low muffled voice.

“Come in Adrien.” the voice was raspy and harsh. He slid the door open and crawled inside closing the door behind him. Chao layed on his futon. He was pale and weak. A woman came from the bathroom placing a cold rag on his head. “You won’t be trained by me any longer young Adrien.” He coughed into his napkin. Adrien could see the red. 

“He won’t make it through the night.” the woman said then left the room. 

“I am far too old for this world.” Chao said. “I am over 300 years old now.” the shock wore on his shoulders. He was even older than Master Fu.

“How long do guardians live?” Adrien asked quietly “Master Fu was nearly 200 before he surrendered the miracle box.” they hadn’t ever talked about the miracle box or who had it. All Adrien knew was that Ladybug had it and he didnt know who she was. 

“Fu?” Chao said. “He was but a child when the temple disappeared,” he coughed again. “Being bound to a Kwami box preserves our life span, but we slowly fade after we relinquish it.” He hadn’t seen Master Fu since he had been akumatized, which came after he had handed over the miracle box and lost his memory of it. 

“Chao Sifu? how do you have memory of these things if you relinquished your box”

“I was a grand master, I governed them all!” he hacked and turned on his side away from Adrien. “When the temple was restored, I sent the guardians out to find the missing boxes and any holders who may have passed along their miraculous’” more hacking.

Adrien wanted to know more about the order of the miraculous but he knew, now was not the right time for that. He would sit with Chao through the night. 

The dawn came as Adrien saw cross legged on the floor beside the futon. He had been meditating all night. He felt the fatigue as his eyes slid open welcoming the sun. He saw the Sifu looking up at him. A haze growing over his eyes. 

“There is nothing more I can teach you.” the voice was small but understood. “You came to me a Xuesheng, and now I leave you, Laishi Mao.” His eyes drifted closed as his body went limp. Adrien swallowed hard in his throat as he continued to sit there unable to move. The woman came in a few minutes later. 

“He is gone.” Adrien whispered barely able to breath, his heart heavy with hurt. He wanted to cry, he wanted to be held tightly as he cried. He suddenly missed his partner. Despite her lack of reciprocated feelings, he missed her the most right now. Her arms were always available to him when he needed her the most. But he knew, he had abandoned her. Tears began to well up in his eyes as the woman covered his face with the blanket. Adrien stood up and left the room. 

Back at his apartment Adrien was silent as he moved about the apartment. Classes would be canceled today. He went to the bathroom and took a shower. Marinette was in town, and his Sifu was gone. He dialed up Cheng Sifu.

“I uh, I need to see you.” he choked. Standing in the seating area, a towel wrapped around his waist. “Today.” 

“I will come see you.” Chao said. Her voice could be heard in the background. A voice he would never forget. Especially after she confessed her love for him on the day of graduation. He had just showed up at the school, she crashed into him at the top of the stairs, a common occurrence. Standing there for the longest moment before she spoke. His mind couldn’t process what she had told him. His heart stalled in his chest and he could’t say a word. Not that he didn’t have feelings for her, just that she had always said she didn’t like him like that. He swore her love was for Luka, and maybe part of it was. 

“Thank you Sifu.” He said hanging up the phone. There was a knock at the door. Adrien peered through the door. It was a bell boy. He slid the chain and oppended the door. 

“This was sent for you.” the man handed him a suit bag, like one from the dry cleaners only this was fancier. 

“Thank you.” Adrien said closing the door. He carried the hung garment to his bedroom and tossed it on the bed. Pacing back and forth as his heart skipped a beat. 

“Well what is it?” Plagg asked flying out from where ever he had been hiding. The logo on the bag was clearly from the temple. His heart throttled like the engine of a sports car in his chest as he unzipped the garment bag. It was a simple garment. The shirt was long and black with dark red trim. The pants matched. Adrien pulled it out and slipped the pants on first. The cuffs came up slightly above his ankles as is the design. He performed a couple high kicks, Side to side and front. He kicked back knocking the lamp off his night stand. 

“Carefull where you kick you almost hit me.” Plagg said. Adrien laughed.

“We’ve been hit by our own cataclysm, I think you can take a kick.” Plagg scowled at him. He picked up the top. It opened in the the front and wore like a robe. He slipped his arms into the sleeves pulling it closed around his waist. He slid the sash off the rung of the hanger and tied it around his waist holding the top closed. Sifu had taught him how to wear it. He slipped on the matching shoes that lay in the bottom of the garment bag. He went into the bathroom to inspect his appearance. The top had slits up the sides for movement freedom. It didn’t move at all as he kicked and punched moving his arms around infront of the mirror. 

“It’s not as good as your OTHER suit.” Plagg said jealous of the new look. “Even your Marinette style is better than this one.”

“No argument there.” Adrien smiled. “I’ve never had a civilian uniform before.” Another knock at the door came. Adrien greeted the bell boy who was escorting several well dressed men. Adrien held the door open for them. He waited for one to offer his hand before shaking it, as was customary. He motioned for them to sit in the seating area and they did. 

“We have come to deliver you news of Chao.” One spoke. “As you may already know he passed on this morning.” he pulled a manila envelope from his satchel and held it in both hands. “He had these prepared for you awhile ago.” he handed the packet to Adrien with both hands, so Adrien accepted it with both hands. “Please open it now.” the men waited as Adrien pulled the stack of papers from the envelope. 

“Last will & testament?” Adrien frowned and looked up at them. 

“You shall become the soul heir to the temple grounds, the school and all it’s contents.” one began to read from his copy of the forms. You will take up his place as Laoshi to the children and carry on his teachings.” It was a great honor to have bestowed on a person. Adrien couldn’t speak as he watched the man read through the forms. “There shall be no classes until the end of mourning.” with that the men stood up. Adrien stood up and escorted them to the door. A call came in on his phone. It was Cheng Sifu.

“I am downstairs, I can not stay long.” he sounded rushed. Adrien hurried down stairs. Plagg tucking himself into the sash. A secret pocket had been crafted into it. 

“Perfect.” Adriem smiled as he made his way to the elevator. Downstairs he found Cheng Sifu sitting on a bench under a tree. He took a seat next to him. 

“You look great.” Cheng said indicating the suit.

“Chao Sifu passed away this morning.” Adrien started. “I was with him went he went.” His tears threatened to appear but he swallowed back scanning the scene for signs of Marinette.

“They are over there.” he motioned to a temple turned museum across the street. She would not be able to see him where he sat. “I am sorry to hear about your Sifu. Adrien, you have done well here.” 

“He gave me the kwoon.” Adrien said flatly. “I am to take over as Laoshi.” 

“Congratulations Adrien.” Cheng beamed with joy for his young student. “You have come along way even in the kitchen. Will you tell me why you came here? Why you avoid the one you love?” Cheng always seemed to know that which even Adrien hadn’t. Adrien knew now that he loved her, but he had always been blinded by his love for Ladybug. Well, he still loved her too, he just thought more maturely about it and having a life with a woman who you didn’t know her real identity made things more difficult. It’s not like they could get married. 

“It’s...comlicated.” Adrien said. “After my father was arrested, I didn’t know who I was. I came here to find that out.” He could have gone anywhere, but why here? “Maybe, here, i still had a connection to her.” he mused. 

“I will call you, when they leave.” Cheng said standing up. “Unless you change your mind then join us for dinner tonight.” His sheepish smile swelled in Adrien’s heart. He was such a wonderful man so caring, and attuitive. 

“You know I won’t. But.” Adrien stood up. “Does she talk about me?”

“I asked her about you last night, and…” he looked across the street. “It made her sad.” it hurt Adrien to think that the thought of him would make such a cheerful girl sad. 

“I will see you soon.” Adrien said. He could see her and her family walking out of the building across the street so he slipped deeper into the shadows as he watched Cheng rejoin his family. He went back to his apartment.  His phone rang. 

“Wow, your popular today.” Plagg said escaping from the sash once the door was secure.

“I need you to meet me in London,” Felix announced in a rush. “Your mother woke up!”

[luxrionne-sakamaki]

Izumi was thankful that his schedule had miraculously cleared up due to the quarantine. He was also thankful that you were stuck with him in his apartment in Florence.

His eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the dark room. He looked at your sleeping figure which is curled up to his chest. A faint smile appeared on his lips as he ran a hand through your hair. You had desperately finished everything the night before so he was going to let you sleep in.

He reached for his phone to check the time. It was the early morning hours. He sat up and left the bed but he made sure to pull the covers back up on your sleeping form before starting his early morning routine. Once he was done, he took a shower and started to whip up breakfast for the both of you.

Izumi walked back to the bedroom to wake you up. He sat on the side before placing his hand on your cheek and let his thumb affectionately rub your cheek.

"(F/n)... Time to get up" He said. He leaned down and placed his lips softly against your eyelids. You let out a groan before nuzzling your face into Izumi's cool hand. You blinked your eyes slowly, adjusting to the light before looking up to Izumi.

"Mm... What's got you so affectionate today?" You asked as you placed your hand on top of his.

"Maybe the fact that I get to have you all to myself starting today" Izumi smiled before ruffling your hair a bit.

"You can shower first or eat breakfast. I already made us food" Izumi watched as you sar up and rubbed your eyes.

"What? You got the whole quarantine period planned?" You joked. Izumi smirked and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, and that's to spend it with you." He let out a chuckle as your face burned bright red in embarrassment.

"I'm going to go shower" You thew your legs up to the side and got up. Izumi got off the bed as well as you turned back to make the bed.

"I'll be waiting in the kitchen" Izumi told you before he left the room. You replied with an 'okay' as you started to get some clothes and head off to shower.

Once done, you rushed to the kitchen and sat down in front of Izumi.

"Is that my sweater?" Izumi asked.

"Yup. I couldn't resist. It looked so comfy" You replied.

"We should go shopping together more often" Izumi said before taking a bite of his food. The both of you talked about work and slipped in a couple of playful banter until breakfast ended.

"I'm going to go make coffee. You can put the dishes in the sink and I'll wash them." You said as you left to get a coffee cup.

"After doing the dishes I'm going to dry your hair properly. You should take care of yourself more" Izumi said as he walked past you with the dishes and placed it in the sink.

"Sorry, I was in a hurry" You muttered. Izumi sat back down at the table and scrolled through his phone while you did the dishes. You made yourself a cup of coffee as soon as you were done too.

"Let's go dry your hair" You followed Izumi back to your bedroom. You switched the TV on as you waited for him to come back with a towel.

"Sit on the floor so I can dry your hair better." Izumi sat on the bed with a comb and a towel in hand. You moved to sit on the floor to sit between his legs as you continued to look for something to watch.

You stopped at a channel that was showing a movie that you were interested in as Izumi started to dry and comb your hair.

Whatever focus you had in watching the movie was completely gone as Izumi did wonders to your hair.

"Heh~ are you feeling that good?" Izumi asked as he felt your head lean into his hand as you let out a small groan.

"It feels really nice" You replied. Izumi has a soft smile on his face. He puts the comb down and presses a quick kiss on the top of your head.

"All dry" He said. You got up and pressed your lips against his cheek.

"Thank you~" You smiled. You were about to get on the bed and continue watching the movie but he had grabbed your hand, preventing you from going anywhere.

"How annoying. You missed." Izumi bluntly said. He tugged you down and placed his lips against yours.

Request Status: CLOSED ~HiMERU x Reader Soulmate AU ~Ritsu x Mao pt. 2 the day after NS~FW ~Dragon Tamer! Ritsu x Princess! Reader ~Ritsu x Barista!Reader ~Ritsu x Reader ~Kaoru x Reader ~Natsume x Reader ~Natsume x Aoba ~Kohaku x Reader ~Madara x Kanata angst ~Jun x Reader ~Hiyori x reader

[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 01

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | slow burn | eventual smut | angst | fluff 

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 12,000+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, terminal illness, this chapter basically just sets the foundation of this story up so sorry if it’s a little boring 

♛ summary:  In need of money for your mom’s medical bills, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, blackmail, get your money, and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em. ❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter 

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

“Why Y/N?” his voice cracks, the look of betrayal evidently on his face. 

"I never���" you sobbed. Your throat felt swollen and you stuttered, pitifully trying to speak the words in your head. "I never meant for it to go this far," you said at last. 

How did you end up here? Where did everything go wrong? When had the rabbit hole simply become too deep? The sounds of several voices echoed in your head. 

You could hear him calling your name, begging  no demanding an answer, but all you could do was stare off into space, thinking of everything that led up this exact moment. 

If only you could turn back time. 

3 Months Ago.

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Oh the irony.

Sighing, you turned off the radio of your run-down 2006 grey Hyundai, which every morning you had to cross your fingers and hope that the engine wouldn't burn out on you. The rumbling sounds of the engine starting up never failing to catch the attention of pedestrians walking by. 

After several frustrating minutes of struggling to parallel park, you sat in your car and allowed yourself to sulk for a moment. Another day, another dollar to make. Even if it meant having to deal with rude and entitled customers all day, your school loans plus your bills just weren’t going to pay themselves off anytime soon. 

“One day at a time Y/N, just one day at a time,” you reassured yourself, placing on your mandatory logoed hat, and mentally preparing yourself for another day. If only you were rich.

Friday Night.

Despite being tired from work, visiting your mom was something you always felt like you needed to do every so often, plus her homemade meals were quite often a bonus considering how lazy you’d often get to cook food for yourself. In fact, the pizza shop near your apartment not only having your order, but voice completely memorized for whenever you called. The young employee quickly interrupting your greeting with a, “Pepperoni pizza, half sausage, half Hawaiian, and a pink lemonade?” surprisingly no longer offended you as much as it would back in the beginning. 

Your mom certainly didn’t mind the company as it inevitably got quite lonely living by herself, but she knew she couldn’t smother you forever as much as she would love to. College was a necessity for you in her eyes, a ticket to a better life that wouldn’t require you to scrub the floors of the rich as she did. 

And maybe it was because you were more mature nowadays, but conversations with her had now also seemed to be much more meaningful. Well that and the two of you didn’t butt heads as much as you used to compared to when you were nothing but a temperamental teenager whose biggest life crisis was whether your crush glanced at you in the hallway or not. 

Of course the boundary and respect of a mother-daughter relationship was always there, some of your jokes sometimes garnering a “I’m not your friend, I’m your mother” speech from her, but nonetheless your relationship with her in a way was very much like a friendship. It seemed as if with every visit you learned new things about her, the different stories she shared with you from her youth always having an underlying lesson that you could apply to your own life.

“I really needed this,” you said while chewing on a mouthful of bulgogi. Small stains of sauce at the corners of your mouth, as your mom’s cooking never failed to make you feel like a little kid. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her now twenty one year old daughter who in her heart was always going to be just a little girl.

She got up from the small wooden dining chair, picking up any leftover dinnerware as she prepared to start washing dishes, all while at the same time listening to you as you babbled on about work.

“I mean really, how hard is it to say thank you,” you rolled your eyes, dramatically sticking your chopstick into your bowl, as you were recalling one of today’s customers who kept snapping their fingers at you as if you were their very own personal servant. 

“Well it’s a good thing it’s summer, you don’t have to worry about college so mu—” The sound of glass shattering on the floor abruptly caught your attention. You looked up at your mom who was now dead silent, her face which was now extremely pale, and her breathing which had suddenly became erratic. What you didn't know was that your mom had suddenly felt as if the world spinning, the feeling of disorientation becoming too overwhelming.

“Mom? Are you okay?” you quickly got up, grabbing your mom by the forearm in a means of trying to redirect her from the kitchen to the couch at an attempt to get her to relax. You unlocked your phone, fingers slightly trembling as you called the ambulance. 

“Just breathe okay. You’re gonna be okay,” you kept trying to reassure your mom as you waited for them to pick up which at the moment felt like an eternity. Your leg was bouncing up and down in anticipation as you kept glancing at your mom who was trying to keep her breathing in control and her eyes open. “Do not close your eyes on me, you hear me?” your voice began to feel shaky, eyelids brimming with tears, the pulsating feeling of panic flowing through your veins.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

You hated hospitals. Who didn’t? The smell, the yellow-toned ugly lighting, and the feeling of anxiousness the whole place gave people. For you though, the hospital was a reminder of tragedy, a reminder that whatever comes in here never walks out the same whether you’re a patient or not. Fifteen years ago, it made your mom a widow left having to pay remaining hospital bills all while having to raise her six year old daughter.

So here you were now, fifteen years later sitting at her bedside waiting for her to wake up, stuck in the same position she once was. You stared up at the ceiling counting each time the overhead lights flickered as you tried not to get so lost into your thoughts. Everything had happened in what felt like was the blink of an eye, guilt was beginning to seep in. Why hadn’t noticed anything earlier? Maybe in some miraculous way you could’ve prevented this, you thought to yourself. 

You turned on the small TV that the hospital provided in every room, flipping through several channels hoping you'd find something that would be able to distract you.

“Shut up and kis—” K-drama. Next.

“Watch ou—” Action movie. Next.

“Kim Taehyung gets physical with paparazzi, the heir to Kim Enterprises spotted —” but before you could place your full attention to the entertainment newscast you turned your attention to your mother who was now beginning to shift in her sleep, her eyes now slowly opening, clearly in a daze as to where she was and how she got there.

“Hey ma,” you softly whispered, giving her a warm smile as you held her hand tighter, beginning to rub small circles on her palm.

“W-what happened Y/N?” 

“You fain-”

“Ah you’re finally up,” you turned towards the door, seeing who you assumed was the doctor in charge now walking in. 

For a doctor she appeared quite young, her petite figure and wrinkle free skin a defining factor in her appearance. You formally greeted her, a wave of anxiousness now overcoming you. “Dr. Whitney Han'' is what her name tag read, but it was what was in small font beneath her name that made your heart feel as if it feel down to the pit of your stomach. “Oncologist,” meaning doctors who specialize in the study and treatment for cancer.

Faintly clearing her throat, “Hello, I’m Dr. Han,” she introduced herself, reaching her hand out for you to shake. She smiled at your mom who was still in a slightly groggy state, but aware nonetheless. “So Ms. Y/L/N, you seemed to have suffered from what we call a syncope, meaning an episode of passing out, it’s usually caused by insufficient blood flow to the brain, a result of hypotension,” you nodded following along with what she was saying,

“When episodes such as these occur, it tends to mean that there’s an underlying cause and so we decided to run some tests on your mother to cross out any possibilities, and well there’s never an easy way to tell anybody this...” her gaze lowered for just a slight moment until she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for you to just know. She continued with what you assumed she’s told hundred’s if not thousand’s of patients in her career. For her it’d be just another day of work, but for you it felt as if the world stopped.

Whatever she had said after couldn’t be heard because the only thing you could hear was the sound of your blood pounding in your ears, and an intense beating against your chest. You could see her mouth moving, but nothing seemed to be coming out, everything suddenly becoming a ringing noise to your ears. 

Fight or flight is what they call it. When a stressful situation triggers you to either run or stay, and at this moment you just wanted to run, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew that at this exact moment, everything was going to change because whether you liked it or not, the carousel never stops turning. 

You slowly glanced at your mom who seemed to be in the same paralyzed state as you, her face stoic of any possible emotion. 

“With treatment chances of survival are of course immensely improved, the treatments are harsh, but taking your mom’s age and clean medical history I think she can definitely handle it,” Dr. Han tried to give you a small smile, but even she knew situations like these were always tough. No matter how many years of experience she had, the countless tragedies and rare miracles she’d witnessed in her career, every case was different. Her job as a doctor was to make people like you and your mother feel more comfortable with their situation, but never make any promises. 

“Now treatments are done in intervals, and will probably have to be done starting from now until about three to six months which is when we usually see improvement, meaning you will have to permanently stay here for that time. From what I’ve seen with past patients is that treatment can be very costly  without insurance, and well I know a lot of physicians don’t like to talk about expenses with patients, but—”

“My mom doesn’t have health insurance. I know,” you harshly broke the deafening silence, interrupting her before she could continue, not wanting to hear anymore of her pity. You had no reason to give her attitude, no reason to direct your anger towards her, it wasn’t like she caused any of this to happen, but you just couldn’t help it. The atmosphere in the air was stiff, any next word out of her mouth and you’d probably go ballistic. “C-can we just have a moment alone? So we could just um process everything,” you stammered, lacking to make any eye contact with her. 

“I’ll be right outside in the hallway, let me know if you have any questions,” she gave you and your mom one last tiny sad smile before making her way out.

Once the door closed, you thought that you’d be able to breathe properly again, but the same heavy feeling on your chest remained. It wasn’t until you felt a grab at your hand that you were brought back to reality.

“Hey we are going to be just fine Y/N,” your mom whispered to you as it was now she who was rubbing your hand in an effort to comfort you. A weak smile appearing on your face, of course your mom would be comforting you despite it being her who's sick. “Come on lay down with me,” she then began to scoot to the side in her already tiny hospital bed, trying to make space for you.

And for a small everlasting moment you felt like a little girl again as you hugged your mom, tears silently falling from the corner of your eyes, the soft sound of her humming comforting you. You let your head relax onto her shoulder, your breathing somehow finally under control. The question of “What are we going to do?” slowly disappearing from your mind, letting yourself drift off to sleep in the arms of your mom.

Sunday Morning.

In the following days after, you had helped your mom move her necessities into the hospital room that she’d be staying in until her treatment was over and she could be discharged. You had contacted your landlord informing him that you’d be cancelling your lease as you now had plans to move back home. The only reason you had your own small apartment in the first place was because your mom thought it’d be better to live near campus and not waste so much money on gas going from campus to your job and then back to your moms place. Despite her protests on the cancellation of your lease, you had done it anyway.

“Ma someone has to live there, or else it’d just be useless to continue paying rent. We can’t just leave it empty for the whole year, someone could break in or even try to live there for the while that you’re not there. I mean imagine walking in on some strang—”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want you living there, and move the decoration a little more to your right,” she says while making a motion with her hand as a way to guide you. For the past hour you had been putting up flimsy removable decorations all across the beige hospital walls at an attempt to make her room look less depressing than it already was. 

“I already told you, I’ll be just fine. I already asked Yuna to help me get my stuff, and you’re acting like everyone in the neighborhood doesn’t know who I am, and it’s a lot faster to get here from home. I just need to start looking for a second job in the meant—”

“Ah about that,” your moms sudden interruption causing you to stop what you were doing , now tilting your head in confusion, “I called Mr. Choi and told him about me no longer being able to work for the meantime that I'm here and well that’s when he mentioned something about going on vacation, and needing a temporary assistant… and that he needed someone to run some business like errands for him and well I may have mentioned you and that you’re majoring in business and how you’d love to work for him…” she tried zooming through the last part but you had heard it all.

“Wait what!”

Mr. Choi was your mom’s boss, having been his housekeeper for as long as you could remember. Endless long nights of making sure whatever multimillion dollar penthouse he or his other snobby friends owned looked squeaky clean, just to be paid like any other minimum-wage worker minus the tip.

You could still vividly remember the nights when you were younger being babysat by your neighbor, anxiously waiting for your mom's knock on the door signifying that she was back home, and just how exhausted she’d look as she took off her housekeeping shoes, too tired to even look at the pile of sealed letters on the sturdy coffee table. A constant reminder that she was going to be working for that man for a very long time. 

For a long time you had wondered how she was able to do it all. Were there nights where she felt like just giving up and simply letting everything she’d work so hard for to collapse? 

Your mind flashing back to the night before you moved out for college. It was about 3 in the morning and anxiety had been keeping you up the whole night, the fear of moving somewhere you were unfamiliar with creeping into your mind. The sound of muffled tears coming from the living room snapping you back into reality. Slowly you had gotten up from bed, opening your door wide enough to leave a crack that you could visibly see through, desperately trying to avoid having the door loudly creak. 

And so there she was with a wax stick candle in her hand, quietly whispering to herself a small recital, the sound of several wailed “thank you’s” coming out of her mouth, grateful that she had made it this far. The old framed picture of your dad on the coffee table making it hard for you to fight back your own tears. 

Nights where she was sure your landlord would knock at any moment to kick you guys out because the rent was going to be late, nights where she’d silently cry herself to sleep because it killed her to say no to something you desperately wanted from the store, and nights where she merely missed the love of her life. Doubting herself as to whether she was doing a good job in raising you, simply wishing she could have someone give her some reassurance. And having to hide those feelings because she didn’t want her daughter to find out that the person she had once given a “Happy Mother’s Day to the Strongest Mommy in the World” card with a colorful doodle of herself in a cape was in fact not strong at all, but acted like she was because she simply loved her daughter too much. 

And so that night instead of going back to sleep, you slowly made your way into the living room, silently enveloping her in a hug, no words having to be spoken. Promising yourself that you were going to work hard in college, and get each other out of the small cramped apartment to which you guys called home. Life of course had different plans, which brings you back to one of the causes of your stress and worries: Mr. Choi. 

Oh how you despised that man. One would think a rich man like him would’ve offered by now to pay for all of your mom’s expenses considering the years of servitude, but no. He only fed into the stereotype you already had of the rich, the only people they cared for were themselves.

“So you’re basically telling me I have to quit my job by tonight, and do something I have absolutely no experience with?”

“Yes! You need to start getting all the experience you can get in the world of business, and him being on vacation is perfect. Less stress, and I assume it’ll be better pay than that restaurant you’re working in.” Oh how you hated how naive your mom could be sometimes, it always led to Choi taking advantage of her and her kindness.

“Mr. Choi lives—”

“In the city which is not at all far from here, the only reason you work at that lousy restaurant is because it’s near campus, yes or yes?”

“And when school starts?”

“Mr. Choi should be back by then and he can find someone new to replace you,” you dramatically groaned, the fact that she had reasonable answers to your questions bugged you. 

“But-”

“But nothing! You’re a hard worker Y/N, who knows you may even meet someone who could change your life around in that area. You’re young, about to be a college graduate, you need to start printing out resumes and Mr. Choi is a big name in the indust—”

“I get it, I get it,” you said chuckling at your mom’s enthusiasm, “and who's going to keep you company then?”

“Ah well the nurse was telling me last night about the events they throw here every week for people like me who are staying here for a while and trust me I’ll be just fine,” she winked at you which raised a laugh out of you. Who knew your mom could be so… social. “Just try and visit hmm... at least once a week.”

“Once?”

“I’m telling you Y/N, we will be just fine. Stop acting like I’m dying anytime soon.” she said, “now what do you say? It’s just until the end of summer.” You began to consider your options, money was definitely the weighing factor here.

Sighing once you had made your decision, “When do I start?”, a giant grin now appearing on her face. 

Sunday Night

“Well that’s the last of it,” you sighed in relief as you finally were able to close the trunk of your car after several minutes of struggling to compress your things in order for everything to fit in your small car and not make any double trips back. 

“Finally! You know for someone who claims they need to save money, you sure do like spending it on such small useless things,” your best friend, Yuna, complained.

“Oh because you were so much help,” you huffed, she had no right to complain considering all she did was loudly munch on her chips, watching the pitiful sight of you nearly fighting your trunk after several failed attempts of it not closing. She raised her hand in defense. 

You and Yuna had met in the 8th grade after the two of you were assigned as partners for your geometry class, casual conversation about latest idol debuts and fashion trends had blossomed a beautiful friendship. For a while you thought that college was going to cause the two of you to grow apart, but in fact you two became even closer. It had become a friendship where you didn’t need to see each other everyday, nor talk about absolutely everything all in one moment. Everything was always at its own pace between you two, the boundaries having been silently set.

You had told Yuna of your situation and rather than try to get you to cry about your feelings and awkwardly comfort you, she instead agreed to help you move out, letting her actions speaking louder than words. Of course Yuna’s definition of help differed from yours. but it was the thought that counted. She knew that when you were ready you’d talk to her about everything. 

“Well apartment D2 you’ve been... “ you paused, recalling the amount of times you’ve nearly burned something, now scratching your neck,  “...decent to me, but it’s time for a new chapter,” you whispered to yourself, anxious for the weeks to come. 

The drive home like almost all of them had the two of you singing to both current and childhood songs without a care in the world even though you two weren’t exactly what people would consider “good” singers. Occasional voice cracks seeping through the bass of the speakers, garnering a laugh from the two of you. 

By the time you got home and finished unpacking, you were not only exhausted but extremely hungry.

“I’m gonna go get us take out,” Yuna announced, getting up from the couch and grabbing your car keys from the rack, almost as if she read your mind. 

And so while she went to get that, you laid on your small childhood bed, staring at the ceiling. You laughed at the multiple glow in the dark stickers you had crookedly placed onto it several years ago, and cringe at the posters of second generation idols you had sloppily posted up on your walls when you were fifteen, now unaware that you were subconsciously grinning. 

It surprised you that your mom for the most part hadn’t moved anything around from your room, for the most part it looked almost exactly as how you left it years ago. The same old baby blue duvet covered your metal twin-sized bed frame, decorated with grey fluffy throw pillows which at the time you thought made you a professional interior designer. Your fingers grazed over the framed pictures you had on your small desk (minus the ones you took to college) of past memories including a photo of your dad piggy back carrying a five year old you who had the biggest smile on her face. A small reminder of what life once was. 

You could feel your eyes getting watery as you continued to stare at the photo, and so you quickly snapped yourself out of it, deciding that you already had enough emotional turmoil on your plate. Instead you plopped back onto bed, unlocked your phone and began to scroll through Twitter occasionally laughing at some memes.

A certain retweet had caught your eye causing you to let out a scoff, “Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” The Kim family were almost insufferable, their names practically plastered everywhere across Korea. Especially Mr. Kim’s son Taehyung who somehow always managed to get his name across the headlines whether it be on TV, magazines, or social media.

“Famous for being a brat,” you muttered to yourself, but ironically before you could click on the link you had heard the door open and close, resulting in you locking your phone and immediately getting up from bed, your stomach desperately ready to stop growling. 

“Im baaaack!” Yuna dramatically squealed, placing the foam takeout containers on your small kitchen table. The scent of the warm food making your mouth water. “I know it’s chilly right now, but the stars are out tonight, so I say we go eat at the top,” she then gave you the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to make such… disturbing...faces for me to agree, you do know that right?” you teased, trying to hide your smirk. 

“Fuck you,” she responded to you while playfully hitting your shoulder.

Despite it being summer, when you had walked outside you immediately felt the crispy cold weather, but it was something you and Yuna had grown accustomed to. The countless number of late nights climbing up your metal ladder to get to the rooftop and watching the small tiny stars had made you two somewhat immune to the nightly cold. Your mom sometimes would even climb up herself to bring hot cocoa, rightfully worried that the two of you would freeze yourselves to death. 

You see your apartment, like the rest of your complex, wasn’t in the greatest condition. The infrastructure of it mostly relying on a mix of cement and brick, rust engulfing most things along with metal bars on each complex’s windows in order to prevent break ins. Crime was not something uncommon in your area, but something that you were used to hearing about as you got older. 

What made the whole situation more ironic was that the rich were separated by a simple six way motorway, acting almost as a bridge between two completely different worlds with their skyscrapers and condos looking down upon you guys. It was only at night when the stars were out and you looked up at the navy blue sky that you felt like for a small moment none of it mattered. The warm milky glow of the moon never failing to soothe you, reminding you that even in the dark there was light. Reminding you that even now which felt as if was one of the darkest hours in your life, there was going to be light. At least that’s what you hoped. 

“This view just never gets old,” you whispered, amazed at the moonlight’s reflection, the speckle of stars only adding to its beauty. Your eyes had once again become watery, a sudden state of reflection washing over you, but you quickly composed yourself before Yuna could notice. 

“What time do you even go in tomorrow?” Yuna asked, her eyes still primarily focused on the view above. 

“Well their flight is at 1PM so my mom told me I should get there by at least 11AM so he can explain everything to me, show me around, and all that other stuff.”

“I don’t see why you have an attitude about it, you’re acting like it’s the worst job in the world!” she scolded you. 

“I know I know, I’ve heard it all already,” you rolled your eyes recalling your mom's lecture and that she expected your attitude to be fixed come Monday morning.

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Yuna mumbled while shrugging her shoulders and continuing to eat her food. 

“You can say that again.... ” you acknowledged her remark, secretly scared for tomorrow, silently hoping that all went well, “and I thought I was a slob,” you snorted, watching how sloppily Yuna was slurping her noodles. She raised her hand, smacking you on the shoulder. 

“Hey, watch—” 

Monday Morning.

“Where you’re going, you asshole!” you shouted over your window, your irritation fixated at the man who cut you off without signaling. God how you hated driving in the city. All the one way signs, the assholes who called themselves drivers, and the narrow streets which were hard to maneuver in. It all caused unnecessary stress, but here you were nonetheless. 

“Turn right in 1.2 miles,” you let out a snide scoff as you entered the parking lot, there was nothing but car of the year models ranging from Mercedes Benz’s, BMW’s, Range Rover’s, and more. All making your car look worse than it already did. 

Making your way into the lobby, you were in complete utter awe of the place. From the giant diamond chandelier hanging from above to the sparkly interior design which screamed Hollywood glam. The ivory colored double staircase reminded you of Titanic, the color scheme of the whole place was overwhelmingly beautiful. You could only imagine what Mr. Choi’s condo could look like as you made your way to the front desk. 

Ding. 

To your surprise a boy, a very handsome one to say the least, appeared from what you assumed was his office. He looked no older than you, his hair dyed a crimson-red color giving him a youthful appearance accompanied with a face that had both sharp and soft features. Before you could ponder on why such a good looking person was working and not living at a place like this, your thoughts were interrupted. 

“Hello, welcome to The Oaks condos, how can I help you?” he asked, sounding eerily similar to a robot. It reminded you of yourself at your old job, something you certainly would not miss.

“Um I’m Mr. Choi’s new assistant,” you looked for his name tag which coincidentally he didn’t have on, but you could immediately see his shoulders relax once he had heard the words “new assistant”. 

“Ah yes! You’re Ms. Y/L/N’s daughter right? Y/N right?” you nodded in agreement, a smile now appearing on his face, causing the corner of your lips to turn upward. Wow was this guy handsome, you only hoped that the heat you felt on your cheeks wasn’t visible to the eye. 

“Your mom called me to give me a heads up. I’m Hoseok, I’m what you can consider the receptionist around here,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to shake. 

Hoseok. The name sounded so familiar, you could’ve sworn you'd heard your mom mention the name a couple times. 

A light bulb then went off in your head, as you remembered the countless number of times she had tried setting you up on a date with him, but wow did she fail to mention that Hoseok had the literal face of a GQ model. 

An awkward cough brought you back to reality as you had realized that Hoseok’s hand had been stuck out for quite some time, you were now certain that your face must’ve resembled a ripe tomato. You quickly returned the handshake, internally scolding yourself for making yourself look like an idiot. Here you were, a grown woman, acting like a teenager again. 

“So um, you seem um ... pretty young to be working here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he teased, “I replaced my aunt after she retired and the owner of this place trusted her to teach me well, and well I guess I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I’m still employed,” he explained, playfully winking at you, confirming that he knew the effect he had on people. You stood there in silence, deciding that it was just best to say nothing, look pretty, and nod. Thus causing him throw his head back and laugh, making small claps with his hands. With the way you were acting, you couldn’t blame him. He must’ve thought you were some kind of walking circus act. 

“You’ll get used to it, you know...” you now had a look a look of confusion on your face which only made him laugh harder, but before you could ask him any questions, he changed the topic. 

“Well I assume your mom gave you Mr. Choi’s key pass, correct?” you shyly nodded no in response. “Ah I see, let’s go ahead and get that set up for you then,” you watched him as he began to type some things onto the computer in front of him. Compared to how fast his fingers were moving across the keyboard, he made you like a complete newb on the keyboard. The boy was clearly now in his own zone. 

“First name, Y/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“Last name, Y/L/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“You see where that X mark is on your left?” he pointed at the microscopic mark on the floor to which you followed, “Okay now look at where that pretty gold flower is on the wall, and say cheese!” Before you could even properly prepare yourself you heard the sound of the shutter go off, immediately causing Hoseok to begin cracking up. 

He turned the desktop computer to face towards you, showing the horrendous picture the camera took of you. One eye had come out mid-blink, your mouth slightly agape from fixing your hair in the moment. “Hey that’s not—!” Before you could start complaining, Hoseok had quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! It’s only for the program’s database which only Rachel and I see? Ain’t that right Rachel?” Rachel? Who the hell was that? 

Glancing around to see who this Rachel person was, you were surprised to see a very old woman seated behind the front desk seemingly caring less about what he had said, a permanent scowl on her face along with a small groan coming out of her mouth as a response. “That’s my girl,” Hoseok jested, “Now you,” he dramatically pointed at you, “come back over here.” 

You muttered a quiet “Whatever,” peeved by his little antics. Maybe it was because Rachel was old but you could slowly see why she had that look on her face.  

“Place your index finger on the small machine when it lights up,” he pointed to the small biometric scanning machine, similar to the ones used at the DMV. Following the simple instructions you allowed the machine to scan your finger, assuming it was going to be used for something important around here. 

All you could do was observe him as he finished typing who knows what. You observed how his eyebrows quirked as he continued to type, a satisfied smile gracing his lips once he was done. 

Too caught up in his appearance, the sudden tug at your hand had caught you by surprise, yanking you from where you were standing. “I’ll be back Rachel! I’m going to show little Ms. Y/N here around,” Rachel as before. only grunted in response. 

“So here of course we have the lobby, this is where all the..” he glanced around making sure no one was around before whispering, “snobby folks come in and out of every day. Them and their visitors of course, so hopefully you don’t have to interact with any of them.”

“I don’t think all of this will be neces—” before you could continue he pulled your hand again now guiding you towards another area. You glanced at the time on your phone, hoping this so called tour wasn’t going to take too long. 

“Right here is the entrance to the patio and pool area, which is what you’ll use your fingerprint for as well as entering Mr. Choi’s condo and any other amenities we have around here,” he reached into his pocket pulling out a laminated card, “but if for any reason our system’s down then this right here should do the trick for amenities only, you’ll have to come up to the front desk if the finger pad in the elevator isn’t working. For precautionary reasons of course,” he explained, most of it pretty self explanatory, except the elevator part but you assumed he’d get to that soon.  

“So the entrance to every apartment is through the elevator which is right there on your left,” You followed him as he began to walk towards it, placing his finger on the elevator’s finger scanning pad, “The stairs are really only here for decoration considering no one uses them, I mean unless of course you want to climb up 7 flights of stairs everyday,” You quickly nodded your head no, “Only resident’s and employee fingerprints allow the elevator to open but,” the two of you stepped into the elevator, “the fingerpad inside the elevator only allows certain people to access certain floors. Since Mr. Choi’s going to be out on vacation with his vacation, you are currently the only person with access to his floor,” you raised your finger, slightly confused. 

“Don’t you technically—” 

“I do, but let’s say I were to enter a resident’s condo without their explicit permission, they’d immediately be notified through their phone as I’m also under strict contract.” Your mouth made an “O” shape, impressed by how everything was ran around here. Another question then popped up in your mind as he clicked the elevator’s 7th button. 

“Well what if there’s more than one person in the elevator? What then?” 

“Ah good question! Since you don’t know any of the residents here yet, I suggest you always try to go into the elevator by yourself, and if the situation arises where you feel uncomfortable or paranoid about who's in the elevator with you then just go back down to the lobby of course and wait it out, but we’ve never had any cases of break ins or anything like that. Especially not in an area like this. Things around here are ran very smoothly,” he shrugged, “I mean around here the burglars don’t wear black ski mask and carry scary weapons. In fact the real criminals live on these same floors,” he deadpanned, slightly catching you by surprise. 

1.

“I know what you’re probably thinking, who the hell makes an elevator an entrance to their home? I thought the same thing when I first started, but for some reason they see it as some kind of luxury feature around here...”

2. 

“Mm it’s expected if I’m being honest,” you chuckled, slowly finding the confidence to make small talk with Hoseok without getting so flustered. A pregnant silence had made it’s way into the elevator. 

3.

“I’m sorry about your mom by the way...” though he had said it out the blue, you could feel the sincerity behind his words. All you could do was give him a small smile of acknowledgment, feeling as if it was too early to feel someone’s pity. “She talks about you a lot...” he said, causing you to smile. 

4. 

“My Y/N is going to one of the top schools in all of Korea! My Y/N is going to become a successful businesswoman! My Y/N is so pretty Hobi, a boy like you should take her out some time!” he mimicked your mom’s voice, now causing you to genuinely laugh. 

5. 

“That definitely sounds like her,” you giggled, your cheeks now becoming a tinging shade of pink at the mention of her trying to playing matchmaker. 

“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was gay,” your eyes immediately felt as if they had bulged out of your eye sockets, your face now completely red at his previous words. He on the other hand was now laughing as hard as ever, his hand clutching onto his stomach from laughing so hard. 

6. 

“I told you you’d get used to me,” he said in-between laughs, tears now welting out of his eyes from his laughing fit. Things definitely started to make sense, especially now that you were inconveniently remembering how your mom had completely stopped mentioning Hoseok in any romantic way to you. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment because here you were already fantasizing about the dude. 

“You're also probably wondering why I’m working at a place like this, that’s what most people ask me when they visit round here, but...”

7. 

“I’ll have to answer your questions some other time Ms. Y/N because well here we are! I’ll have your parking pass ready by the time leave but for now just place your finger on the scanner and off you go,” you followed his instructions, opening the doors of the elevator, stepping out, and waving a small goodbye watching him return the wave as the doors slowly closed. In all honesty you were genuinely happy at the fact that you had made a friend around here even though you were still slightly embarrassed about the moment that had played out only minutes ago. 

But before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a voice call out your name, “Ah Y/N, good you’re here right on time!” You formally greeted who you presumed was Mrs. Choi, slightly surprised at the fact that she even knew your name. 

“You don’t have to be so formal. Muah. Muah,” she pulled you in for a hug and giving you a kiss on each cheek like the French do. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, tell her I send my condolences.” You returned her fake smile, not expecting yourself to despise her this early on. Oh were you glad she wasn’t going to be around.

Mrs. Choi in a way reminded you of Regina George’s mom despite not having any kids. Needles and plastic were definitely her best friends, and her attempt to try and act younger than her actual age was quite cringe to watch. 

Soon after greeting each other, two pomeranians began to circle around you barking. You bent down trying to pet them, but you guess they picked up the snob’s attitude because all they did was continue barking and one even tried to bite you. 

“If it isn’t Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” you snapped your attention to the man himself, Mr. Choi, who was coming down his stairs with a thick black luggage case in his hand. The last time you saw him was around 9 years ago when he had lived on the other side of the city. Your mom had to take you to work with her that day because your neighbor was unavailable to watch after you and you were still too young to be home alone.

Mr. Choi had definitely changed in appearance, his once full head of black hair was now clearly balding, he had gained some weight, and overall looked like a man who had long been worn out. You couldn’t help but think that this vacation was probably needed, especially with a wife like his.  

“I’ll wait for you in the car my love. It was nice seeing you Y/N, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” she squealed, waving goodbye as she stepped into the elevator, the dogs following right behind her.

You could hear Mr. Choi sigh, probably already mentally preparing himself for the next 10 weeks. So this is what a pretentious marriage looks like, you thought to yourself. You theorized that Mr. Choi must’ve only married her for her looks and she for his money, and well no wonder there were no kids in the picture. It’d be the ultimate death of both of them. You actually felt pity for the man, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a choice in marrying her.

You brought your attention back to Mr. Choi who must have been rambling on for some time now, “My most recent assistant just quit on me for no reason,” a genuine puzzled look on his face, “something about me being too overwhelming for her, as if I'm supposed to know what that means,” he scoffed. “So when your mom mentioned you well I knew I could trust her!”

Your mom truly never failed at mentioning you to whoever and whenever she possibly could, it was both a blessing and a curse. 

“So… what exactly am I going to be in charge of?” You blurted out, the question had been lingering in your mind since the night prior.

“Good question, I’d show you around, but time is on the essence. I basically just need you to organize my office, file paperwork, organize Amelia’s closet, go run errands for me, pick up documents, but most importantly I’m going to need you to attend certain events in place for me, but of course just introduce yourself as my assistant, apologize as to why I couldn’t be there, and most importantly keep your eyes and ears open. In my world we like to keep… tabs… on one another,” your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “and since I won’t have any signal I expect to have a report ready for me when I come back so I’m caught up with everything of course,” he grabbed something from the coffee table, “I made a planner for you with everything that needs to be done on a day to day basis,” he then proceeded in handing you the bulk gray planner, “It includes passwords, data sheets, and all that good stuff.” 

You were amazed at how his demeanor had changed from clumsy-like to serious businessman in the blink of an eye. It was actually quite intimidating.

“Finances need to be kept in check, investors need to be accommodated, and well I just want to come back to everything being normal,” he began to gather the remainder of his stuff, “also your money is going to be wired to your bank account on a weekly basis and well that’s really it. I’ll see you in 10 weeks Ms. L/N! Good luck!”

“Good luck..” you quietly repeated his final parting words back to yourself, watching as the elevator doors closed. You could see why his last assistant quit, you didn’t even know where to start. You took a deep breath deciding to make your way up to his office, your day was just getting started.

The condo may have looked like it came out of a show from HGTV, but Mr. Choi’s office looked like it came out of an episode of Hoarders Buried Alive. There were scattered papers everywhere, his desk was practically hidden by all the stacks of papers. Food wrappers and aluminum soda cans thrown around like the slob he was, the stench making you want to throw up. 

“Oh my God…” you said to yourself, this man was just a mess. 

You skimmed through some of the papers all of them having to do with different things ranging from firm performance, finances, legal forms, and much more. You could already feel a headache coming, but at the end of the day this was your job. You grabbed some storage boxes and began to label them with a black marker.

Your plan was to separate the papers into two sections: Important and Unimportant. Once you finished separating, you’d then shred what you deemed unimportant, and further organize what was important by date and then transfer them to his filing cabinets. It would take time, but it was the only method you could possibly think of. Your goal was to stop by 3 and then start working on Mrs. Choi’s closet.

You put on your earphones and began to play some music so that you wouldn’t be so stressed while organizing everything.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles…” you hummed to yourself and before you knew it, it was already 3. You had thrown out all of the trash in his office, and for the majority part most of his papers were organized. 

You sighed, now to get started with her damn closet.

Mrs. Choi’s closet was its own giant room, marble shelves stacked with bags and shoes, racks full of clothes, jewelry sparkling under their display showcase. The sparkling glass chandelier on the ceiling adding an extra oomph to the room. 

Hermes. Gucci. Chanel. Versace. Burberry. Balmain. Louis Vuitton. Saint Laurent. Fendi.

Any brand you could think of was in this closet, it was unbelievable. The closet had to be worth several thousands, no millions. So many questions were running through your head. How could someone just have so much? What do you even do with this amount of clothes? You were truly left speechless.

Shaking your head, you began to pick up all the clothes on the floor deciding that it was best to organize everything by color, your day almost done.

By the time your alarm went off it was already six which is the time that Mr. Choi had said you could leave, and it wasn’t like he was paying you extra for staying any longer and doing more work. For the most part, you had finished with both the office and closet and were just ready to go home, jump into bed, and watch some Netflix.

You went down the elevator,  satisfied at your first day on the job. This was going to be easy, you thought to yourself.

Just as you were leaving the lobby you heard Hoseok, “Hey I had your parking permit printed out!”  You stopped dead in your tracks, turned around and walked towards his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to make a little bit of conversation, right?

“Ah I had forgotten about that, thanks,” you chuckled.

“It’s no problem! The parking officer loves giving tickets.… so how was your first day?”

“Um not bad actually, a little boring to be honest,” you pondered at his question, for the most part you were being truthful, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go and get Mr. Choi’s Mercedes Benz checked out, and then from there go and pick up some paperwork from some legal firm, transfer it onto his computer.”

“Well at least he’s not around to be over your shoulder, he practically had his last assistant going nuts,” he responded, laughing at the memory.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yawned, giving him a small wave goodbye.

“Hey well let me know if you ever need anything, and I’m being serious,” and to that you nodded, taking note of what he said.

Monday Afternoon.

[Incoming Facetime from: Ma 💞💗💓💕]

Immediately you clicked “accept”, having just gotten home and tidying up a couple things around the apartment. 

“So how was your first day?” your mom immediately questions you, clearly eager to know. 

“It was pretty decent ma, nothing I can’t handle,” you chuckled, “but wow was that man’s office practically a pig pen,” you complained only causing your mom to start laughing. 

“Oh I know,” she comments, only causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I think these 10 weeks should go by quite smoothly if I say so myself,” you sounded genuinely optimistic, “I met Hoseok you know,” your embarrassment had long subsided, instead finding it hilarious.

“Ah my Hobi!” your mom sounding delighted at the mention of the young boy, “a hard worker that boy is I'm telling you.” 

“He seems like it,” you had long concluded that he was when he had been explaining everything about the residency to you. He seemed like one of those people who even though they disliked their job, still put in their absolute everything into making sure they were the best at it. “You shoud’ve seen me giving him the googly eyes earlier,” you joked around. 

“Hobi is—” 

“Gay, yeah I know. I had to find that out the hard way,” you covered your face with your hands, playfully sulking. 

“Why do you think I stopped trying to set the two of you up,” your mom laughed. 

“Mm really ma? I would’ve never guessed,” sarcasm dripping from your words. 

“Hey remember who you’re sp—” 

“Anywayssss, how are you holding up out there?” you took a sip from the cup of juice you had served yourself earlier, your mom’s dismissive expression returning back to a smile. 

“Well the food around here is horrible! I told my nurse that they should let me in the kitchen for a change, but all she did was laugh!” You grinned at the idea of your mom actually working at the cafeteria for the sake of it. 

"Ah well I’lll make sure to bring you something on Wednesday.” 

“Did anything arrive in the mail today about the invoice for everything?” your mom asked, a look of worry now on her face. 

“No ma, and don’t even worry about anything like that okay? Focus on your treatment, and you let me handle the rest alright?” your voice now becoming stern, leave it to your mom to start worrying about finances. 

“I know, I know, but I know some fees were coming up and well—” 

“And I’m telling you to leave it to me, okay?” 

“Ah okay then, well I'm going to sleep already,” she yawned, “they’ve been prodding needles in me all day,” she tried to say it as lighthearted as she could, but she quickly regretted it as she saw the sudden sad look on your face. 

“Goodnight ma, I’ll see you Wednesday alright?” 

“Okay then Y/N, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” and with a small pressured smile, you clicked “end call”. An immediate sigh coming from your lips as you glanced at the several unsealed envelopes on your coffee table, many of the scattered papers stamped with a red “PAST DUE”. 

School, rent, the water bill, the light bill, the gas bill, your phone bill, the old hospital bills, the new ones, all due in such small amounts of time with almost no room in-between dates to rest. 

And so that night you laid in bed staring at your ceiling for what felt like hours unable to go to sleep. The only thing on your mind was how you were going to get the funds to pay for everything because well if you didn’t then you’d be left in hospital debt with an eviction notice right at your door and a whole bunch of other problems that you didn’t want to think about.

Deciding that it was best to get a breath of fresh air, you made your way to the rooftop, watching as the scattered stars glimmered in the sky. You sorta wished that life could be like those childhood TV shows where a shooting star would pass by and make your wish all come true, but the fact was, is that your life isn’t a movie or a tv show. This was your reality, and you were just going to have to suck it up.   

You unlocked your phone and texted the only person you possibly could.

[To: Yuna 🤍]

[10:09] you up??

You tapped your foot, waited for her to reply.

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:10] i'm offended that that’s even a question tbh

[you]

[10:11] you think you can come over? pleaseeee 🥺

[10:12] ik it’s late and you’re probably tired and work tmrw but i just rlly need some company rn

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:13] i’ll be there in 10, don’t judge how i look

[you]

[10:14] when have i ever…

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door.

“I brought your favorite snacks,” Yuna had a giant grin plastered on her face to which you couldn’t help but smile at. Her makeup-free face and bright Hello Kitty pajamas told you that she was probably in bed when you texted her. 

Once she slid off her shoes, she was quick to make herself feel at home by jumping onto your couch. Hell, this was basically her second home.

“Do you work tomorrow?” you asked her.

“I called off, I’ve already accumulated a lot of hours anyway and well I might as well start putting them to use,” she stated, as she munched on a freshly opened bag of barbeque chips. 

Yuna was a retail clerk at the local mall, attending fashion school at night in hopes of landing herself a future internship, but like you was currently on summer vacation. Even in middle school, becoming a world renowned fashion designer had always been her dream, having gone to the the principal’s office a countless number of times because she added some kind of tailor to the plain old school uniform whether it be bedazzles or embellishing some kind of bizarre pattern onto it. 

Yuna though was sadly a case of a prodigy without the resources, accepted to one of Seoul’s top fashion schools when the two of you had graduated high school. You were there the day she opened her letter of acceptance, the two of you along with her family celebrating by going to one of Seoul’s most expensive restaurants. But just as you were there the day she was accepted, you were also her shoulder to cry on the day she realized that the money she had saved up wouldn’t even cover a quarter of tuition costs, and her applications for scholarships had all fallen through. 

What you admired most about Yuna was that disappointment didn't stop her from trying. Her designs were truly one of a kind, and you weren’t even saying that because she was your best friend and had a bias towards her. You could only hope that one day she’d be recognized for her talents. 

You grabbed your blanket from your room and sat next to her on the couch. She stared at you while you flicked through different channels on the TV, sensing that something was wrong. 

You could practically feel her burning a hole through your head and so you decided to answer the question you knew was looming in her head, “I’m not okay,” you mumbled, letting out a sardonic laugh. “I’m trying to act like I am, but I'm just not,” you stared off into the TV not wanting to make eye contact with her, “it’s just not fair,” you whispered, confused with yourself as to whether you were sad or angry.

Yuna could feel her heart wrench as she listened.

“My mom’s been nothing but a kind person, I’ve been nothing but a kind person, and so I can’t help but ask why? What did we do to end up in a situation like this?” you hadn’t even realized that tears were falling from your eyes until you felt the salty drops of water make their way onto your lips, dripping from your chin, “The whole time I was in Mr. Choi’s condo looking around at the million dollar paintings, and organizing his wife’s thousand dollar outfits I kept thinking to myself how can a man like Mr. Choi just not care? He didn’t even bother to ask how she was...” you seethed, the emptiness in your voice had now become anger.

Yuna scoffed, “The rich are always looking down on us like we’re just nothing but money makers to them, demanding their respect like they deserve it for free.”

“I just,” you paused for a second, “I just don’t know what to do, I think I might have to start looking for a second job or something, or maybe even take a gap year...” you breathed out, running a hand through your hair in distress. 

And maybe one could call it fate with what you and Yuna had seen on your TV that night. Destiny perhaps. Whatever it was, it was going to open the doors to a brand new world. A world that you had only ever caught small glimpses of.

“Kim Taehyung is officially Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, our sources have confirmed that he and on and off again girlfriend Sunhi have called it quits permanently this time. The reason you may ask? Rumor has it that she was caught cheating on him,” the entertainment reporter had a giant grin on her face, “That’s right ladies, the heir to Kim Enterprises is back on the market.”

Pictures which you assumed were recent showed Taehyung partying, drinking, flashing expensive cars, and at red carpet events for major fashion brands. “Tweet us using hasht—” you changed the channel on the TV, bored of the topic at hand.

“I swear he’s the only person they talk about nowadays, I mean literally he’s everywhere!” you chuckled, turning your attention to Yuna who for some odd reason now had a look of disbelief on her face.

“Y/N… how did I— no how did we not think of this earlier?” Yuna got up from the couch like an excited toddler causing you to tilt your head to the side in honest confusion. 

“What the hell are you talking about now,” you said, laughing at how childish she looked. She was now pacing herself back and forth across your living room, her adrenaline practically visible.

“You know I don’t normally believe in this stuff but holy shit this has got to be a sign!” At this point you were convinced she was talking to herself considering she wasn’t even making direct eye contact when she said that. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, “I mean you have the quote on quote resources, the clothes, my fashion expertise, the car, the events, and he’s single now. Oh my God how did we not think of this,” you carefully listened to what she said trying to piece everything together. Resources? Clothes? Was she talking about Kim Taehyung?

Your eyes immediately widened when you put two and two together and realized what she was so excited about, and it was now your turn to get up from the couch.

“You’re literally insane you understand that right!?” you stared at her, completely baffled. You thought stopping her from pacing around would bring her back to reality and get that grin off her face, but if anything it did the opposite.

“Y/N! What are the chances that as we’re talking about your finance issues and then something like that comes up! What are the chances that you literally work for a millionaire who's going to be gone for several weeks and expects you to attend his events! You can’t tell me that this isn’t hmm…  I don’t know… Fate!” All you could do was stare at her in disbelief as she began to mumble something about this being something “straight out of a movie”. You were waiting for her to laugh and tell you this was all some kind of joke, but you soon realized she was being serious.

“The fact that you’re actually being serious about this is ridiculous!”

“And the fact that you think it’s ridiculous is what’s really crazy!” you shook your head refusing to accept what she was alluding to.

“Yuna! Let’s be rational he—”

“No, just listen to me Y/N. Please,” you looked at Yuna who had now calmed down, her face completely serious, “I know it seems out of the ballpark…” you nodded in agreement, “You have the opportunity to infiltrate the rich, and not just anyone but the Kim family! You know how many rumors there are about that family and their business!” she shouted while adding extra emphasis on the word infiltrate as if this was some kind of spy movie.

You sighed, “And how exactly would I do that? How could I not get caught up in lies? Why the Kim family? Why not not just steal some of Mr. Choi’s belongings and sell them on Ebay or something? Just what exactly are y—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” you grunted in annoyance. There were just so many questions running through your head, did she not realize the risk in what she was proposing? The consequences?

“You’re a stranger in their world, a brand new person … a brand new identity! You already have to go to these events as it is, and you can’t steal anything from Mr. Choi and sell it because I mean clearly he knows who you are. They, as in the rich, do not,” Yuna knew she had managed to grab your attention based on the look of skepticism on your face, “And technically you’re not going to be stealing Mrs. Choi’s clothes, you’ll be um ... borrowing them.” she flashed a giddy smile, “10 weeks Y/N, 10 weeks to get Kim Taehyung to fall in love with you, blackmail money out of that family, and then poof you disappear without a trace!”

“You have no idea how many questions are running through my head at this very moment.”

“And I think I can give you answers to them all, but please Y/N just think about it! It would solve all of your problems, financially at least,” you jokingly hit her shoulder as she teased you with the last part of her sentence, “you wouldn’t be doing it for yourself, you’d be doing it for your mom.”

“For my mom…” you mumbled to yourself. Yuna stared at your blank expression. She could only assume that you were letting everything sink in before making a decision. On one hand you’d be able to pay for all of your expenses while still getting your job done, but on the other you'd be using someone under a false pretense in order to blackmail money out of them. You’d literally be infiltrating the rich. You were scared. What if you got caught? Would you go to jail? What would happen to your mom?

You had made your decision.

“I trust you Yuna… I really do…” she now had a worrisome look on her face, “and so..” without even realizing it Yuna had been crossing her fingers, “I’m in.”  

“Oh my God,” she let out a sigh of both relief and disbelief, a beaming smile on her face.

“But!” her smile quickly disappeared after hearing your tone, “we need to plan this thoroughly, like a solid proof plan by tonight on pen and paper, you got me?” she nodded in agreement, “and I think there’s someone we need involved in this... “

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who?”

Tuesday Morning.

“Yuna this is Hoseok, Hoseok this is Yuna,” the two shook hands giving one another a warm smile.

Yuna began eyeing you in a way of saying “Are you sure about this?”. You understood why she was skeptical of Yuna whether or not she’d agree to everything, hell you had your own doubts. What if Hoseok said no? Worse, what if he completely snitched you out? Then you’d be stuck with no job, no money, and probably blacklisted from all major companies in Seoul by Mr. Choi himself with the label “thief” over your head. You had to reassure yourself that everything would be just fine, “So what brings you guys here?”

“Well I was hoping I could talk to you um…” you glanced around, “somewhere private,” you whispered giving him a shy smile, “maybe up in Mr. Choi’s condo,” you offered remembering that Rachel could possibly be hearing (though you highly doubted she’d care).  

“Oh um… sure, let me just tell Rachel to cover for me,” he awkwardly dismissed himself to the back.

“I don’t know Y/N … he seems like the type of person to not want to risk his job..” Yuna whispered to you, she was clearly on high alert.

“He told me I could ask him for anything, and well I know I’ve only known her for about 24 hours, but I don’t know… something about him just seems reliable, I can't explain it. It’s just better to have him on our team than to be suspicious of us. I can’t do this whole infiltration thing being paranoid that the receptionist is going to snitch on me when he sees me walk out with clothes worth thousands of dollars,” you replied, “And if this really is playing out as a movie like you say, then we need someone whose tech savvy.” 

“You have a point,” she chuckled, “wait how do you know he’s good at computers again?” 

Your mind flashed back to the night before, while Yuna was asleep you had gone full stalker mode on Hoseok to get to the bottom of who he was. After hours of looking through different social media platforms you had ended up finding both his Twitter and Instagram @/junghsk, where he had pictures of his college graduation from 2 years ago. Major? Computer Science. It explained why he looked like he was in some Matrix movie the other day, and though of course it didn't mean automatically he was an expert, he definitely must’ve been better than both you and Yuna combined when it came to programming which is something (based on your plan) you were going to need for future endeavors. 

You also came to find out that he was an avid animal lover, taught cardio dance classes on morning weekends, likes to live tweet show series such as Games of Thrones, and is in a committed relationship with someone named Min Yoongi. What could you say? You liked to do intensive research. 

Once Hoseok returned the three of you went up to Mr. Choi’s condo, the elevator ride up was definitely awkward compared to the day before. 

Yuna was in clear awe of the place. You could tell she wanted to give herself a personal tour, but you shot her a look dismissing the idea as she could easily do that later.

“We should sit,” you suggested pointing to the kitchen’s island, "Yuna can make us all some instant ramen,” she immediately shot you a look of annoyance, but didn’t argue with you making her way to the pantry.  

“So...” he quietly mumbled at an attempt to break the ice, making small tapping noises on the island’s surface with his fingers. 

Flashing him a pretentious smile, you awkwardly glanced around trying to think of something to make small talk with, “Um do you like Games of Thrones?” 

Immediately he grinned, you expected a “yes” to come out of his mouth but instead he said, “Ah so that was you yesterday!” 

The color drained out of your face , wait what? He began to laugh, making small claps as he threw his head back, “You were stalking me,” his face scrunched up as he began to tease you. 

“What are you talking about?” your tone becoming defensive along with your eyebrows furrowing, only causing his fits of laughter to become louder. His index finger wiping the tears that began to form in his eyes. 

“Don’t act like you didn't like and unlike my picture at like 3 in the morning!” He suddenly pulled out his phone, showing the notification which he hadn’t cleared from his phone, showing your username and the words “liked your photo” following right after. You had forgotten about that... 

It was already 3AM and you were beginning to doze off, eyelids barely even open. You saw the white heart on Instagram appear on a 56 week old picture which you immediately unliked, also causing you to jolt out of your comfortable position in panic. 

Damn you Instagram. “Whatever you need must be pretty important if you’re up at 3AM instastalking me.” 

“Oh shut up—” 

“Well since you were on there, what hair color do you prefer on me: red, brown, or black?” You scowled before muttering a quiet “brown”. “Really I’ve been told red looks best on me, hmm...” he pondered, pressing his index finger onto his bottom lip. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about anytime soon or ...” he said, his tone coming out more demanding than he intended, but Hoseok was the kind of person that didn’t like to beat around the bush, rather preferring to be told things straight up as they were. 

“Okay..” You started, explaining to him of your situation starting from your mom, to the bills you needed to pay, why this job just wasn’t enough, why you needed to go ahead with your plan, why you needed him to be in on everything, and emphasizing that you weren’t doing this for yourself but your mom. By the time you finished explaining, Yuna was already done making the noodles.

Hoseok sat there in silence, you could hear your heart from your chest, your fingers getting slightly sweaty as you thought of the different possible outcomes. The deafening silence had made you feel like you guys were there for hours. Honestly, you could have heard a pin drop. 

It wasn’t until you saw his signature smile beginning to form on his face that you could’ve sworn you felt bricks actually fall off your shoulders.

“Okay let’s do it,” he stated as he began to slurp on his noodles.

“You’re in?” Yuna asked in complete shock, eyes completely widened. He nodded in return clearly enjoying his food, “You don’t have any questions? No concerns?”

Hoseok shrugged, “Mm well of course I’m curious as to what exactly the plan is, which I’m sure you’ll be explaining to me soon, but nope. I’d probably say no if the cause wasn’t for something important,” he looked at you giving a warm compassionate smile, “and this has got to be the most interesting thing that’s happened on this job for the past 2 years so there’s that,” his brows knitting remembering past situations with residents, “and lastly these snobs deserve what’s coming to them,” he finished off causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Well then cheers to mission… ummm... “ Yuna placed her finger on her chin, causing you to facepalm yourself as she was trying to think of a name for something so irrelevant.

“7 Rings,” Hoseok interjected , “like the Ariana Grande song. I want it, I got it!” 

“You like my hair gee thanks just bought it!” you guys simultaneously sang at the top of your lungs, clinking each other’s drinks.

And so that was how mission “7 Rings” came into fruition, but of course like everything else in the world, nothing ever goes as planned. If only you had realized then that things were going to change, whether they were for the better or for the worse… well that was for you to find out on your own.

author’s note 🧚🏻 : SK has universal health care but for the sake of the plot we’re going to have to pretend they have a private healthcare system so please don’t attack me lmao. Also please like & repost as it keeps me motivated to write and update faster !! Thank you in advance if you do 💞

[be-ace-write-crime]

Lovely Bride - Second Wedding Night

You wake up after your night with Wamuu and return to your empty village, the last survivor of the Hamon tribe. You struggle with conflicting emotions, anger to the people that made you a sacrificial lamb, grief for the tribe that raised you and the people you grew up with. So much has happened in such a short time and nothing will ever be the same again.

Thankfully Esidisi is there to comfort you.

You and Wamuu made love all night and you suspect a decent portion of the morning as well, after the candles had burned out. He took care to clean the sweat, cum and oil off your skin, probably realizing how badly he had wrecked your body after the fact. He put your wreath aside and let you snuggle up in his bed with some clean pillows, and you fell asleep almost instantly.

The stress and your rendezvous with the first pillarman had thoroughly exhausted you. You woke up alone, a single candle left to light the room for you. It hadn’t been lit for long. Maybe an hour or two? Either way, the room had become stuffy, smelling of sex and burnt out candles, so even if you couldn’t get outside, you weren’t staying in this room.

You picked up your dress, your sandals, and combed your hair with a comb left on the table beside the one remaining light. You were about to leave the room when you thought to put your wreath back on, as your first husband clearly appreciated the look and symbolism of it. You also thought to bring a dagger that was on display as one of Wamuu’s trophies. You knew he wouldn’t mind you taking it and while you were neither scared your betrothed would eat you, nor did you have the hubris to assume you could take them in a fight if you had a dagger, being sent around the lair of vampires and vengeful gods unarmed had been making you nervous since yesterday. With the sheathed dagger tucked into the belt around your waist you venture into the hallway.

The candle light didn’t reach very far, but far enough you can see a faintly shifting silhouette in the shadows leading deeper into the catacombs. Very well, not like you wanted to go there and the squirmy shadows of what had to be vampires only helped to solidify that decision. You looked over your shoulder constantly as you made your way back outside. The hatch had been left open, though the early evening light made it too dangerous for the pillarmen or the vampires to be out.

Every step into the light felt like a wave of relief. You blew out your candle and left it on the steps, almost running outside. It wasn’t until you felt the breeze blowing through the temple that you noticed the trails of tears on your face. You rarely cried, but indeed, you had much to cry about. Tears of relief, happiness and sadness alike.

The sun kissing your face felt heavenly and you could have probably stood there until the sunset, if a warm chuckle hadn’t pulled you out of your thoughts. You wiped your tears away and looked to see Esidisi at the bottom of the stairs, just barely visible in the shade.

“You look beautiful like that,” he said. “I look forward to the day I can embrace the sun by your side,” he added, casting a mournful glance at the shadows edge he couldn’t cross. It seemed so strange that someone as powerful as him was unable to touch you simply because you were standing in the sunlight.

“I wish I could share it with you,” you said, without thinking.

“You do?” he asked, looking up at you again. He seemed surprised.

“I wouldn’t deny anyone the sun… It would be cruel…” you said, shyly running a hand through your hair as he graced you with a warm smile.

“Such a kind heart after all you’ve endured,” he said. “Your village is still there, though you will find it deserted. I assume that’s where you were headed.”

“I just wanted some fresh air, but… now that you mention it, I would like to go there,” you agreed.

“Go ahead. I will catch up to you once the sun has set,” Esidisi said, leaning against the wall and waiting out the daytime.

You nodded and went ahead as we’d told you to do. From what you’d gathered he was the second in command, higher than Wamuu in their hierarchy, but below Kars. He was the one to second your plea for your sister and nieces to be spared. You would have to ask him about them later.

The way down to your village was eerily quiet. Normally you’d hear some noise, see the lights from cooking fires and candles, but the place was abandoned as you’d been warned it would be. The gods had come down from the mountain and wiped out all the people that once resided here, leaving the empty shell of your birthplace behind. In the village square there was a table laid out for a banquet, big enough for the whole village.

Wild animals and some escaped livestock had made their own feast of it in the absence of the humans during the day, but everything looked as if your people just vanished into thin air. Cups and cutlery strewn about, food and wine on the tables, homes untouched. No time to pack up and flee, no time to get the weapons and fight, just a meal, over as soon as it began.

You had been crying since you first stepped outside, but seeing with your own two eyes how the people you called your tribe would be gone forever made you sob hysterically. The ones that had raised you, loved you, and then sent you off to die had all been killed, leaving you alone to mourn them.

“C-Celebrating, were you?!” you spat angrily at the empty table. Wild dogs and other pests had dragged the meat away, while half eaten and picked at fruit, vegetables and pastries were being consumed by flies. A few birds scattered as you approached and dragged a metal tray off the table, leaving it to clatter against the cobblestones of the square. The plates were next, smashed at your feet or hurled like disks to burst into shards of earthenware against the walls of empty homes.

One pitcher full of wine was miraculously untouched on the table, at least until you found it. Booze would either calm you down or be a perfect fuel to your fire. You chugged half the damn vase to quench your thirst either way.

“Was it worth it?! Were all of us you sent to die worth it, you bastards?!” you demanded, climbing on the table and hurling the serving blows around, kicking everything off that was in your way.

“How many idiots does one village need?!” you spat at the empty head chair, picking up the plate and yeeting it with a perfect spin in the direction you came from. It would have gone far if your husband hadn’t caught up to you by then, batting at the dish reflexively, only to have it shatter in his face like shrapnel.

You tried to compose yourself quickly. Surely throwing a plate at his face would warrant killing you, he’d killed for less, you were throwing a tantrum in the evidence of that fact, but you knew he wasn’t going to. For one not to go against Kars, but also because the look on his face was far from the righteous fury that should have been there.

You were standing on a table, leftover food and sauce on the ends of your dress and up to your ankles, ugly crying like a fussy child, but Esidisi merely brushed the stone splinters from his hair and handed you the big carving knife you had somehow stepped over.

“Don’t stop on my account, dear (Y/N). In fact, if I can assist you in any way, do not hesitate to tell me,” he said, smiling calmly.

“I could stab you with this, you know?” you asked, sniffling loudly.

“That dagger would be better for stabbing, but you could,” he agreed, looking up at you. “If it would make you feel better, I would let you. I remember needing to vent for weeks after my own tribe was wiped out. How lord Kars put up with me during that time is beyond me, but I am infinitely grateful he did,” he explained, leaving himself open for an attack.

You contemplated doing it for several long moments, even raising the knife over your head, but ultimately deciding against it. You weren’t scared he would retaliate or punish you, but in the end you saw no point in harming the one person showing you kindness in that moment. You tossed the knife away and kicked some more tableware around like an angry cat.

“‘S no point… just no point in… a-anything I do, is there? W-What am I gonna do now? What need do you have for a human? Just gonna live underground for a… a month and then die like everyone here!!!” you sobbed, hiding your face, which must have been a huge mess by then. Right now he certainly wasn’t sympathising with you because of your good looks.

“You will live, you will grow stronger and wiser and live out the full extent of your life. You alone will carry the legacy of your people. You will be our agent in achieving perfection and when we do we shall forever embrace the light of day beside you,” he answered, holding you against his chest and stroking your back softly.

If you muttered something along the lines of ‘lying bastard’ he kindly ignored it and let you finish crying.

“You were right, you know. The best men and women your village had to offer were the first to die. I believe after your sister and her daughters left, there was hardly any goodness left among them. They took two old horses and a small cart and were practically chased out under threat of being stoned to death. I handed them the box lord Kars said to give them after they had departed, fearing it might be stolen from them. Don’t tell, but I informed them you were alive and what you had done. Your sister cried, as she had done all evening, then brandished a spear at me and said for me to treat you better than your people had treated you,” he said, letting you sob into his shoulder until you ran out of steam. You were probably dehydrated too and seriously hungry.

“Every person worth their salt here seems to think the world of you. Your sister risking her life to threaten me, the tribe’s warriors who died to protect you, lord Kars who saw your shine even in your darkest hour.”

“Everyone else here seemed to think I was fairly expendable,” you huffed bitterly.

“They seemed to think sacrificing you would save all of their lives. They were slaughtered for treating you so cruelly, beloved, but they knew you were the greatest treasure they had to offer,” he corrected, picking you and setting you down now that you had recovered.

Crying like that really did make you feel better. You were never allowed a tantrum of such epic proportions before, just shy of stabbing your husband, while he supported you through every second of it.

“Speaking of treasure,” he said, a sly smile on his face. “This is a small village, but it seems wealthy enough. There is no one left to care for its worldly possessions now,” he said, quirking a brow to emphasize his mischievous intentions. Well, mischief by the standards of a wrathful, mass murdering god. If two days ago someone had told you you’d essentially be pillaging your own home, stealing from the dead, you’d have thought they were crazy.

“You’re not… wrong…” you agreed. His smile was contagious, and you found yourself going along with his idea.

The full moon was high in the sky and the tables and chairs in the square had been repurposed to light a bonfire with his magic. You knew how and where money was hidden and Esidisi caught on to the pattern quickly.

“Go fetch your own treasures, darling. Vampires could do this,” he said, whistling to summon a few and instructing them on how to search.

You could name a few things you wanted, but never dared to ask for. Now you were the sole heir to the hamon tribe and your husband ordered you to fetch whatever treasure you desired, so who were you to disobey?

As such you met him later in the town square, decked out in enough jewelry to sink your body to the bottom of a river, a silk dress in a vibrant wine red color and a stola to match, while your palla, a scarf reserved for upperclass women of Rome, was now a makeshift bag for numerous scrolls you had stolen, detailing the history and craft of your people. Those were all going with you and you’d guard them with your life.

You were still bitter about what your people had done to you. You might always carry some resentment for the rest of your life, but the warriors of your tribe had given their lives to save those selfish creatures and you wouldn’t allow them and their sacrifice to be dismissed by history just because the people they fought to protect were ungrateful bastards.

Your haul made for an odd little collection of treasure. You had also taken to wearing the shiny, gold anklets you found. These were typically reserved for the… courtesans of your village. The women who kept themselves standing by laying on their backs. They were frowned upon by common folk, but were considered desirable nonetheless. There was no one left now to judge you for your dress being too short or the anklets you wore with your wreath and your dagger.

You were the last living member of the Hamon tribe and a bride to gods. Dressed in all gold, or wearing nothing at all would make you no less of a queen.

“Master Esidisi?” you greeted him upon finding him again. He quickly smiled when he saw you, but you could tell something had happened.

“You look beautiful by the light of the fire as you do in the daylight, my dear,” he said, standing up and coming to welcome you.

You noticed at least one of the vampires had… well it had died, but you couldn’t phantom what had happened to it. It looked like it had blown up and then melted. “Don’t worry about that thing. It decided to berate me when it couldn’t find what I had ordered it to search for.”

“What was it supposed to search for?” you asked. It probably wasn’t anything you’d picked up. The scrolls had all been in plain sight and you didn’t need to search hard for fine clothes and jewelry.

“The chief of your village had come into possession of a precious red stone, called the Aja. I ordered the vampires to search his home for it, but they found nothing,” he explained.

“Tsk, as if that cowardly bastard would hide anything you might look for in his own house,” you muttered, jumping when you realized what you had just done. Perhaps you drank a bit too much wine earlier. “Don’t kill me, I just know what a prick he used to be!”

“I wouldn’t kill you for such an infraction, (Y/N). You are my bride and equal. This vermin didn’t know his place,” he assured you. “Where would he hide the Aja if not in his home?”

“I can’t say for sure…” you started. Giving the wrong answer seemed more dangerous than not knowing, but you could hazard a guess in this case. “I imagine he’d hide it where he hid everything he really cared about. His mistress, his bastard children and your stone,” you said, pointing to the little home uphill. It was near the treeline and his sons and mistress were among the first to be devoured by vampires as a result. The elderly chief hadn’t been one of your favorite people to begin with, but losing his sons and the woman he loved made him worse.

You looked around the home you knew well, noticing the loose stones around the fireplace in the kitchen where no one would think anything was hidden.

“I have been by this house before,” Esidisi said.

“I think I found something,” you said, prying the stone loose stones out.

“Your sister was here, gathering your things,” he continued, insisting.\

“It’s stuck, could you please help?” you asked, trying to ignore him.

“You were the chief’s illegitimate daughter, is that right?” he asked, just as the stone came loose and you flopped backwards onto your old kitchen floor, gold and silver accessories jingling as you went.

“Ow…” you huffed, looking up at your husband from where you lay. “I spent enough time crying over that already. I have better things to waste tears on now,” you answered with a long sigh, slowly sitting back up.

There was a box in a little hollowed out space you uncovered. “He loved my mother and my brothers, but not me. I think he felt I should have died before any of them. I figure that was his real reason for sending me as a sacrifice. My sister was in the same boat as me, but she found herself a good husband.”

“Was he killed by the vampires, or one of us?” Esidisi asked, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“Typhoid, almost a year ago. My nieces lived with me during that time. Gods forbid they might have caught it too. I loved them so much… My mother still thought herself my father’s true love, ignoring how she was led on and made to live in poverty, treated like an adultering whore for being with a married man. My brothers were young, though they got it in their heads just like our mother that they would be in charge someday. Our father loved them, though. Had them trained to be warriors since they were children. In the end they didn’t wake up in time to scream, let alone fight… It’s been a few weeks since then...” you explained, crying again, but less frenzied than before. All that wine was definitely keeping you from throwing another tantrum, if only because you’d fall over if you tried.

“My sincerest condolences for your loss and you have my respect for what you did to save your sister and nieces,” your husband whispered. “You will never be disrespected like that, my sweet. We shall treat you as a goddess, as you rightfully deserve to be,” he promised.

You could tell he was serious, despite his ruthlessness in battle. His condolences were sincere, and you were grateful he’d been the one to send your sister on her way.

“You don’t mind that I’m human? Whatever happened to the women of your kind?” you asked.

“Our tribe existed until some eight thousand years ago. I was Lord Kars’ right hand in his endeavor to elevate our immortal kind through the stone masks, but they rejected his views. Kars decided if they wanted to spend eternity cowering underground instead of striving for more, then they might as well be dead,” Esidisi explained. “When he gave the order, I did not hesitate. The only ones spared were Wamuu and Santana, who were only infants at the time. Regardless, I say he chose his companions well. Yourself included,” he said, kissing your forehead.

By now your eyes had to be wide as saucers and you were regretting not bringing more wine, which might have made that story a little easier to unpack.

“I can’t say for sure whether you made the right choices, but wiping out all women of your immortal kind and then choosing me definitely sounds like a decision made by someone stabbed in the head with several stone spikes,” you said, making him laugh again.

“My beautiful (Y/N), what matters is that lord Kars sees the potential of a goddess in you and more than any creature that has ever walked this earth he has been a master of realizing such potential,” your husband assured you, taking the box you had almost forgotten about and flipping it open, revealing the brilliant red stone inside. “And you have just brought us one step closer with the gift you procured.”

It was explained on the way back up the mountain that their aim was to retrieve this stone to complete the stone mask lord Kars had created with the intention of allowing them to endure sunlight. It answered several questions you had and raised a million more, but your first order of business would be to present the stone to your husband and master.

“Lord Kars, we have returned!” Esidisi announced when you entered the temple. Kars was seated on his throne, his expression unreadable. He had let down his hair from under the tight wrap and it flowed down his back in elegant black waves, as dark and infinite as the night sky.

“Did you find it, Esidisi?” he asked, his eagerness betraying his stoic facade.

“I did not,” he said. Kars’ grip on his armrest cracked the solid marble and his red eyes shone furiously in the firelight. You flinched, wanting to smack your husband for teasing like this, but you were too nervous to speak already. “Rest easy, my lord. Our beloved bride did find it,” he said, ushering you forward.

You kneeled at his feet and humbly presented the stone. Kars pulled you into his lap and smiled, a genuinely happy smile as he kissed your cheek.

“Anything in the world shall be yours, my beautiful sunshine, for it is the world you have given us tonight,” he said, kissing your lips before taking the stone to examine it more. You felt an overwhelming joy bubble up in your chest, overpowering the grief and spite that had been festering there.

Esidisi looked almost smug, smiling up at you in his master’s lap. Like he was proud of himself you were getting praised.

All until Kars took a closer look at the stone. His expression turned to an annoyed sneer, and he glared at you so sharply you just about fell off his lap.

“Is it a fake, master Kars?” Wamuu asked while Esidisi approached to help you up and assure you again that you wouldn’t be eaten.

“This stone is genuine, but it is a plain Aja, far too small to serve its purpose,” Kars answered, shutting the box with a loud clack that made you flinch. “This is what we exhausted so much energy on…” he muttered, rubbing his forehead like he was fighting off a headache.

“The night is young, lord Kars. We can renew our search for the super Aja right now if you wish?” Esidisi offered.

Kars looked at Esidisi, then down to you, his expression softening slightly.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Esidisi. In fact, I might have some use for this stone after all. You can spend the night with our bride, seeing as how you’ve dressed her for the occasion,” your master declared, his eyes roaming over your figure, taking obvious note of your ankles. He stood up and grabbed the marble armrest he’d cracked, his muscles bulging as he ripped a slab of marble clean off. He picked up the stone and then plucked your wreath from your head and turned to head back into the catacombs.

“A shame. I thought the wreath matched your anklets rather well,” Esidisi said playfully, running his fingers through your hair. You blushed, but leaned into his touch regardless.

“I put those on cause they’re pretty. Not as an invitation… Kars is scary when he’s mad. What do I do?” you asked, feeling like you might cry again. You’d done your best, and you had no idea how big the stone needed to be! It wasn’t your fault!

“He isn’t mad at you,” Wamuu assured you. “I will head out with the vampires to continue our search. We know that the red stone of Aja traveled the silk road from Asia to Rome. We’ll just have to find it.”

“He knows not to blame you for this. Lord Kars is more sensible than that. He’s frustrated, because our fight with the hamon tribe took a great deal of energy and while consuming the remaining villagers replenished some of it, we have little time before even that runs dry,” Esidisi explained, picking you up and kissing your forehead.

“What happens when it does?” you asked, the pillarmen exchanging a worried glance.

“Either we must consume what might well be an army of humans, or we must go to sleep and hopefully recover,” Esidisi explained.

“What? I-I wouldn’t argue with you consuming humans as you need, but what would be wrong with sleeping?” you asked. You hadn’t caught any of them sleeping, but you assumed they could, just like any other creature.

“When we sleep, we turn to stone and it could well be a thousand years or more before we awaken. You would not be there to greet us when we awaken,” Wamuu explained, looking down at the ground.

“How much time do you have left?” you asked, once again feeling the ring in your chest weigh heavy on your heart, but not because you were excited this time.

“About as much time as is left on your engagement ring, beloved,” Esidisi said.

Wamuu took all vampires with him, scattering them in every direction to search for information on the red stone, leaving Esidisi himself to fetch something you could actually eat while you waited in his room.

“You shouldn’t have,” you said, bashfully accepting the basket of goods he returned with, although the sight of food had your stomach painfully clenching to remind you of just how hungry you were. On your wedding day you had refused to eat, scared senseless and struggling against everything being offered to you. After your evening with Wamuu you had spent almost the entire day asleep, meaning you were going on two days without food at this point. No wonder that wine earlier got you drunk so quickly.

“I wouldn’t make you descend and climb a mountain twice on an empty stomach. It was foolish of me to have let you return without eating in the first place,” Esidisi responded, smiling as you started to dig in. The basket had fruit and bread and cured meats and cheese, and you hurriedly started popping grapes in your mouth.

“Thank you so much,” you said, holding your hand in front of your half full mouth. “Can you eat this?” you asked out of curiosity.

“I could pretend. I can appreciate the flavor, surely, but it wouldn’t sustain me,” he answered. “Your body produces its own life energy. Mine can only draw on the life energy of other living beings.”

You looked at your basket, at the cured meat inside. You thought of how many animals died every year to keep you fed. You wouldn’t eat another human, but you’d come to realize the gods you were married to didn’t kill for their own amusement or even to defend themselves. Only to eat.

And while it may have felt like cruelty, humans were simply not used to being prey. Not used to being the wary herd, stalked by ferocious predators, and knowing that their only hope was that someone either braver or weaker would be killed off first and still their hunger another night.

On the other hand, could you justify yourself standing by as an army worth of humans were turned into food? It was true he said army, but that was an awfully justifiable way of putting it. Army made it sound like a threat. Like it was kill or be killed. In reality even if they only picked off strong men, worthy of being soldiers, that would just leave an army worth of widows and children defenseless and possibly starving.

Would they even give you the antidote? You thought you’d grown closer with Wamuu and now Esidisi and Kars had chosen you himself, but you still wore the poison ring around your heart. If they were going to sleep, they wouldn’t have a reason to keep you alive either. Why would they allow their bride to run off on her own if she was going to die before they woke up again? Maybe that was the point all along. To hold the ring’s curse over your head so you wouldn't run away until they didn’t need your little mortal self anymore.

“You’re worrying about something silly,” Esidisi said, cutting through your line of thought as if he’d been reading your mind. “You have a very expressive face,” he explained.

“It’s not silly,” was the first thing out of your mouth before you thought to deny it. You probably just sounded immature. “I guess to a god being worried about dying would sound like some silly human concern…”

“You won’t die, beloved. We won’t allow it,” Esidisi answered simply.

“What about the wedding ring?” you asked, putting a hand over your heart. your husband nodded, understanding.

“You’re worried we won’t save you if we don’t find the stone in time to escape our thousand year sleep?” he asked. You nodded, putting the basket away on a side table.

Esidisi’s bedroom was larger than Wamuu’s and so was the bed you were seated on. The silk covers and furs from exotic animals in the candle light looked and felt like some kind of dream. It didn’t help the part of your brain that was whispering none of this was meant for you and like a dream it would come to an end long before you wanted it to.

“We’ll do everything we can to secure the stone first. If that fails, we can buy ourselves more time as needed,” he said, taking your hands in his. “It pains me to think you’ll live a mortal life at all. I realize by comparison it is selfish, but I wouldn’t want to wake up in a world without you in it…” he sighed, thumbs stroking over the many rings on your fingers. He didn’t suggest making you a vampire, which you were grateful for. The thought of spending centuries in the dark consuming humans while waiting for them to return made you sick to your stomach.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “It’s just so hard to believe when my own people didn’t want me alive… You barely know me…”

“I know enough to have fallen for you and everything I have come to learn has made me love you more,” he responded.

“I-I… Esidisi…” you whined, wanting to bury your face in your hands, but he wouldn’t let go. Your face was red. Had it been so hot in his room the whole time? Every other underground room had been so cool.

“I will have you know the extent of my adoration, my beautiful dancing flame,” he said. “If Kars won’t see reason, I will make him.”

Somehow knowing that he would disagree with Kars for your sake was a greater declaration of love than any words or gifts and you leaned in to kiss his lips.

“I love you too… I don’t want to cry anymore, please,” you said softly, burying your fingers in his soft, white hair.

“But you cried so beautifully for Wamuu last night,” he whispered. You whined and buried your face in his neck.

“You were listening?!” you asked. You thought Esidisi had been out that night.

“How could I not have heard you screaming like that? You sounded so eager. I have lived thousands of years and yet this evening has tested my patience more than centuries spent looking for the stone. Now I finally get you all to myself~” he purred, reaching over to the nightstand and pinching the candle wick between his fingers to snuff out its flame. You heard the soft sizzle of his flesh burning as he hadn’t wet his fingers to do it, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Every light that died let the shadows of the room creep closer, but you weren’t scared or even worried.

In the dark you could still sense him moving while he was so close. The soft, delicate silks of your new clothes slipped off easily and you were about to start on your jewelry, but your master really had run out of patience.

“Keep them on. You look beautiful,” he praised, pulling you in for another heated kiss. You wished you could take some of his clothes, but you had already noticed those were stitched into his skin. You did not expect him to remove his sewn on chest plate just so you could kiss and nuzzle his chest more freely, which was why the loud sound of stitches snapping surprised you.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” you asked finally.

“I hardly feel any pain at all and my body heals quickly. I rather enjoy the thrill when I do feel it. It’s exhilarating,” he explained. You were about to reach out and touch his chest when something hot and slim coiled around your wrists and pulled them back above your head. You couldn’t see what it was and the sharp tug made you help, but you knew it was just your husband, even if you couldn’t quite tell what he’d done.

“I will show you pain if you don’t stop teasing me,” you huffed, making him laugh.

“You are too adorable, trying to threaten me, my little flame,” he said through his laughing, something hot and wet dripping from the coils around your wrists, making you shiver. His hands around your waist moved and still your hands were pinned, immobile, which was frustrating, because not only could you not see your lover without his painful looking armor, you couldn’t touch him either. His fingertips felt hot, as if by remnant of the flames he extinguished between them, but by now you knew better. That heat was all his and glowed fiercely from within and you vaguely suspected he held it back some, just to touch you without hurting you when he explored your naked skin.

There was something sensual about being dressed in nothing but your jewelry before him. The bracelets entwined with the warm twine that held your arms in place. The thin strands of twinkling gold, laden with gems around your neck, resting lightly against the top of your bare breasts. The anklets you still wore, a coquettish little accessory that would have branded you a shameless whore to the humans you knew. Still your husband regarded you as a far greater treasure, stroking your thighs and kissing your neck as if he were mapping out every inch of you with his touch, even though you knew he could see you in the complete darkness.

“Please, Esidisi…” you murmured, wanting to feel his heat deep inside your core. You could already tell this would be nothing like with Wamuu. He’d been all chivalry, slowly testing the waters, infinitely patient until you gave him the all clear to have his way with you.

Esidisi was more in control, using that to his advantage to tease you mercilessly. He was taking things slow to savour you, not because he was holding anything back. His demeanor exuded a confidence and experience that made you feel safe, even if his slow pace had you craving more already.

“Please what, my darling?” he asked, pushing you down against the bed and you could feel the mattress dip where he kneeled over your small, exposed form. In the pitch black darkness you couldn’t see him right in front of you, but you felt the warmth radiating off him like a flame still. “Would you rather I take you like a beast in heat, little one? So eagerly crying for more~”

Heat was a very apt description of your current desire, in every sense of the word and he knew it. Threats and orders would make him laugh and requests would be easily overruled, but Esidisi never once denied you when you begged.

“Please, my master, my lord, my king! I need you to touch me. Make me yours. Burn me up! I need you!” you pleaded, rubbing your thighs together, only to have them roughly pried apart.

“No wonder Wamuu lost control with you so easily. With such a charming spark you possess you should be careful what you wish for,” he warned, and you could feel his breath against your labia, already anticipating what would happen next.

Knowing what would happen and being prepared for just how good it would feel were still two different things and more of the hot tendrils wrapped themselves around your legs, keeping you open and exposed while your god and master indulged in the taste of you. He worked his tongue deliberately, aiming to please in a way that told he took just as much pleasure in the act himself.

“A-Ah, yes! Oh my god… please please please don’t stop!” you pleaded, losing yourself too quickly to even try holding back your orgasm. His thumb worked your clit in slow, deliberate circles, while his tongue dipped hungrily into your wet pussy, as if craving your taste.

You came screaming, arching off the bed as far as your bonds would allow, while Esidisi continued to work you through your climax with his gentle, loving touch.

“You’re incredible, my love. I am so thankful I get to have you all to myself tonight. I can already imagine the fights over who gets to have you in their bed, our most coveted treasure,” he whispered while you caught your breath.

“Hmm… Ah, but all else being equal… won’t I get a say in that?” you asked, panting to catch your breath. The bindings around your wrists loosened and moments later you could feel his fingers pushing into your sensitive opening.

“True, true, very true,” he agreed, as his warm, battle calloused fingers explored your most sensitive spots. His heat inside was making you tremble and you almost desperately wanted more of it, despite having cum once already. “I suppose I’d better give you a reason to choose me when the time comes,” he said, rubbing insistent circles at a spot that made you whimper with need.

With your hands now free, you reached blindly into the darkness, finding his immensely broad shoulders and muscular arms. You carded your fingers through the soft white curls of his hair, pushing the fabric of his headpiece off and feeling the sharp horns he kept concealed under it.

“I-If you want to give me a reason… P-Please fuck me… I can take it already, please~” you begged. You could just make out the way his breath hitched and the sharp intake of breath before the bindings around your legs dragged you hallway into your lover’s lap and you could feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against you to replace his fingers.

“I am going to ruin you…” he growled softly, gripping your hips and slamming in deep.

You arched your back and keened, the edge of pain eased by his warmth and the pleasure of having him inside.

“What a glorious little spark you are, sweet (Y/N). Let me have you like this forever. Let me shower you with affection so that you may always wear such a lovely expression,” he murmured, kissing your lips while his hips rocked steadily with yours, his pace intensifying until the bed under you shook. It was nowhere near the feral pounding you’d enjoyed from Wamuu the previous night, but it was enough to leave you reeling regardless.

You giggled briefly, shaking your head. “I-Imagine… If I made that face at lord Kars? No… just now… just you… Esidisi~...” you responded. He chuckled and lifted you further onto his lap, holding you close while he slowed to grinding deeper inside you than you would have thought possible. It felt so incredible your eyes fluttered shut and you slumped against his rock-hard chest, finally getting to rub your face on it, though your attention was firmly drawn elsewhere.

“I imagine he’ll be inclined to make you show that face for himself soon. He’ll be as enamored with it as I am, beloved,” he said, his heat all around and deep inside you. It felt so comforting and safe in his arms, even wrecked by wave after wave of pleasure. “Still, I will cherish this moment where you are mine and mine alone~”

You were going to cum again. The pleasure like this wasn’t as overwhelming as being pounded like before, but it was constant, inescapable and so intense you could only mewl softly in agreement and try not to drool.

“So small and sensitive. You are far too tempting not to tease,” he said, still rocking into you slow and deep, letting out a deep, guttural moan when he felt you quiver and tighten around his hard cock. He didn’t stop or slow down, keeping his pace and dragging your breathtaking orgasm on into what felt like minutes.

“Ah~ S-So much… t-too much! Esidisi… Too much~!!!” you whined, weak little fingers clutching at his shoulders, digging into his skin as you braced yourself against the tidal waves of climax.

“You can endure more than you think, little one. I will show you the true heights of pleasure,” he purred, the intensity of his movements ramping up and the intensity of your never ending peak with it.

You were spilling all over his lap, crying out nonsensically while Esidisi built back up to the bed rattling rhythm from before. You’d never imagined feeling pleasure like this, dancing on the razor’s edge of pain, but never crossing it. The last part of your brain that still had any sense left wondered what love making like this could be building towards, as you were already cumming, but you could feel something building regardless.

You dimly wondered if some sort of double orgasm was possible and the thought was funny to you.

You wanted to share it, but between gasping and panting for breath and the lust clouding your mind you couldn’t get a word out.

Then you felt Esidisi slamming in hard and deep, flooding you with more of his divine warmth to the point of overflowing, and you had the answer for what could possibly beat ecstacy like you had been feeling before.

The last thing crossing your mind was complete and utter satisfaction before you completely and utterly passed out.

[tataswish]

❝   familiarity  /  one.

━   ♡ ・  paring:  kim taehyung x reader. ━   ♡ ・  genre:  soulmate!au, non idol!au, fluff (with a little angst!). ━   ♡ ・  word count:  2.7k.   ━   ♡ ・  summary:  you didn’t believe in soulmates. once. that all changed when you met yours; all thanks to one little drawing.

author’s note:  hi! i haven’t written in a while so excuse the small mistakes, but i hope you enjoy! if you’ve played bts world before, some of the stuff in this chapter might seem a little... familiar (no pun intented). i also plan to have the reader be connected to every member somehow in this fic, so they will come soon! hope you all enjoy, feedback is always appreciated. <3

“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, glancing at the rows of baked dough that were left in the oven for a little too long. Rather than its usual glossy, golden brown finish—it was dull, and… sad.

It’s been almost a year since you’ve been miraculously hired as the pastry chef’s assistant at Hotel Mudrin. You say miraculously, because even without any sort of culinary knowledge outside of cooking shows, you still managed to land the job. The chef was somehow impressed by the basic strawberry pancake dish you presented during your interview, and instantly saw growth potential in you.

That was also when you met your best friend, Seokjin. He was a newly hired intern at the time, and with the two of you being the only staff members in the hotel within the same age bracket, it didn’t take that much time for a bond to form. Seokjin was always getting into trouble by his boss Mr. Im, because to him, this intern could never do anything right. But with you there, you were able to lend a helping hand when tasks got a little too overwhelming—and things got a little easier from there. You and Seokjin began to spend time together on and off the clock since.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the mixture of raging hormones from being together, but the two of you decided to give dating a shot not too long after. It lasted for a solid two months—and while it had to come to an end, you both concluded that you were happier as friends.

And it was true. You and Seokjin have been inseparable since.

“____,” you heard the head chef call out your name, which instantly reeled you back to reality. Glancing down at the burnt dough on the tray, you felt a surge of warmth rush through your cheeks, knowing that you were about to be scolded at any second. “Are you okay? Ever since you came back from your lunch break, something’s been off.”

“No chef, nothing’s wrong,” you lied, walking over to the nearby garbage can to throw the current batch of dough away. A reassuring smile soon formed across your lips. “Just tired.”

If it wasn’t for you spiraling during your lunch break after Seokjin had left, maybe you would be in a better head space. But of course, spending the last ten minutes of break thinking about what went wrong in all of your relationships didn’t exactly help anyone at all.

The head chef could see through your lies too. And rather than questioning it, he only continued piping cream on the freshly cooled pastries on his side of the counter. “Maybe you need some fresh air,” he added with a shrug of his shoulders, eyes concentrated on his work. It was evident he was still invested in the conversation with you, though. “There should be a shipment of mangoes coming in in about twenty minutes, do you mind bringing those boxes in here? Take all the time you need. I’ll work on making another batch of dough.”

“I can make the dough, chef!” you tried to protest, mostly as a way to convince your boss that you weren’t feeling too off (when in reality, you were). “It’s okay, the mangoes can wait.”

As you were about to reach for the measuring cups in a nearby counter top, you were met with a look from the chef that clearly said: Go get some fresh air. Now.

So, rather than questioning it, you did.

After washing your hands and hanging your apron by the door, you made your way outside of the kitchen and into the main hallways of the hotel. It was emptier than usual—mostly because it was a weekday afternoon, and the guests who were staying at the hotel were out. It was also the midst of October, and the influx of guests don’t usually start to come in until around Christmas-time. Which was fine, because you weren’t met with the stress of having to make hundreds of fruit tarts in a span of an hour. Instead, you were able to step out and take a small stroll, which was always nice.

Upon exiting the area where the stairs were (staff weren’t allowed to use the elevators, per Mr. Im’s orders), you finally arrived at the ground floor. You always felt so out of place in the main lobby, with or without your work uniform. With the spacious area matched with gray marble flooring and sleek interior design, it was never a place you imagined yourself staying in. Only the richest of the rich could afford even one night in this place, and you? Couldn’t even afford a proper meal for dinner on some days. Hotel Mudrin was known to be a hub for millionaires, celebrities, or rich families alike—not for struggling university graduates like yourself.

But sometimes, it was nice to dream.

Quietly humming to a tune of a song you heard in the radio earlier this morning, you casually strolled through the floor, making your way towards the back door where the shipments would be. The subtle smell of lemon from the newly mopped floors was an odd favorite of yours. From time to time you’d flash a friendly smile towards the guests or staff members you’d pass by. But before you could exit through the back and meet with the shipment truck, you decided to take a small pit stop to the front desk and say hi to your best friend.

“Dude,” you began the minute you saw Seokjin behind the front desk. His eyes were on the computer screen in front of him, typing and clicking away, but you knew him well enough to know that he was probably playing a game of Minesweeper like he always does. Crossed arms resting on the desk, you then rest your chin on them as your eyes look up to your friend on the other side of the counter. “Remember when I wanted to cry because I realized I’ll probably be single and alone forever? Well my boss—”

As you continued to ramble on, Seokjin’s eyes finally met with yours. They weren’t eyes that meant he was ready to listen to you vent, no… they were wide. Like he was in a state of shock.

He quickly began to shake his head, which caused you to raise an eyebrow in slight confusion. Did he want you to stop talking? Shut up? Right as you were about to say something though, his lips began to mouth the words ‘I’m busy’ over and over again.

That was when you knew, you fucked up.

The truth was, Seokjin was still busy tending to a guest, and you interrupted him actually working. Turning around, you briefly spotted the guest he’s been helping, and god—it was obvious by the look of your face that you had just embarrassed yourself into the next century.

“Sorry sir!” you apologized quickly, heat beginning to rush through your cheeks while you bowed for the hundredth time in the span of thirty seconds. Rather than making proper eye contact like any normal person would, your view was glued to the floor. “I honestly didn’t see you, and I know I should’ve, but—”

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it,” he soon interrupted by providing reassurance. Once you heard a string of laughter from his end, you knew that he was understanding enough of the situation. “I get it.”

While you still couldn’t find the strength to really look him in the eye, you only returned with a sheepish laugh. It wasn’t every day you found yourself acting like a complete fool in front of a hotel guest (that was more of Seokjin’s speed in all honesty), so you didn’t exactly know how to fix the situation. Instead, you ended up sitting there in silence until Seokjin rescued the conversation.

“Alright!” he chimed in with the clasp of his hands, which was obviously your cue to slowly walk away. “You’re all checked in until the 31st, Mr. Kim. Let me grab your bags and take you to your suite.”

As you were about to leave, of course, you couldn’t go without embarrassing yourself one last time. Just as you were about to make a beeline towards the break room—also known as the place you were going to scream in—you managed to bump into this guest in full force.  

Looking up, you finally had the chance to take a good glimpse of the person in front of you. He was tall, muscular, with ash blond hair that was parted in the center. His almond eyes were practically gleaming behind his silver frames, and it paired well with the two dimples perfectly placed on each cheek.

In other words, he was gorgeous. And completely out of your league. Which is probably another reason why you were feeling flustered beyond belief at this very moment.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. It felt like a movie—with both of his hands gently placed on each of your arms to provide support, gentle eyes locked on yours. You could’ve sworn you felt your heart stop, whether if it’s from being embarrassed or… swooned, even.

Swallowing thickly, you managed to let out a small “yeah,” before fixing your stance. He eventually let go, and the two of you were able to laugh it off for a little. “But are you okay, sir?”

“Didn’t even hurt,” he reassured, flashing that smile that accentuated his dimples really well. An open then was reached out as an offer. “You can call me Namjoon. Do you work here?”

But before you could even keep the conversation going, of course, Seokjin had to butt in. Literally. “Let me help you with that, Mr. Kim,” he urged with a friendly, yet painful smile as he walked in between you and Namjoon. He then reached down to pick up the leather suitcase that was sitting right beside the guest’s leg. Eventually, Namjoon had to retract his hand.

You took it as your cue to leave, so you excused yourself from the two without saying goodbye.

Thankfully there wasn’t anyone in the break room to look at you quietly take a moment to freak out over what just happened. If Namjoon wasn’t so good-looking and one hundred percent your type on paper, maybe you would’ve shrugged the interaction off by now. But you kept thinking over and over about how you were going to run into him again in one way or another—especially since he plans on staying at the hotel for over three weeks. All he had to do is walk into the hotel’s dining area to have dinner, and you’d be there. Not even as you off the job, but you in that stupid apron and chef’s hat.

Head dug into your arms as you leaned on the table, you tried to think of something—anything to get your mind off of what just happened. Letting out a deep exhale, you decided to take your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your e-mails. The first thing that caught your attention was an opened one, the one you received from that psychic about your soulmate.

Your soulmate is a man who is hard-working and bright, he will constantly continue to prove that he can be trusted and counted on by your friends and family…

Your eyes continued to read through the reading the photo was attached to, which was oddly comforting. To know that there was someone out there who could potentially be everything you’re looking for.

He is understanding, forgiving and respectful, even when you sometimes make mistakes…

Deciding to skim through the rest of the reading, you opened up that picture once again. You couldn’t help but notice something you didn’t the first time you saw it, and that was the small details on his facial features. He has three beauty marks: one sitting on the bottom of his eye, on his cheek, and one placed perfectly on the tip of his nose. You could’ve sworn those weren’t there before.

“And I thought I was the one who’s always the embarrassment at work,” you heard the familiar voice barge inside the break room, which obviously belonged to Seokjin. He walked over to where you were sitting and rested his chin on the top of your head, arms dangling from each side of your shoulders. “Jesus Christ bubs, you were a mess out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you murmured grumpily, placing your phone back in your pocket. “Do you think he’s going to tell Mr. Im? I can’t be blacklisted from this place, I need my job.”

Seokjin only laughed. “Stop being so dramatic. He seems too nice to do that.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “Plus, I’m eighty-five percent sure he was hitting on you.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you retorted while rolling your eyes. “As if he found my dirty uniform and the flour in my hair sexy.”

“You’re right, there’s nothing sexy about you,” he playfully joked back, which made you elbow him in the stomach. And all he did was laugh after. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be helping Chef Seong making those pies for tonight’s desserts?”

You sighed, nodding your head in response. “I’m supposed to be bringing a shipment of mangoes in from the back. Are you on your break? Do you want to come help me?”

With your best friend agreeing to accompany you to your trip to get the mangoes, the two of you head out of the break room and towards the back entrance of the hotel. As you opened the door to go outside, you noticed that the truck was already parked in front, with a few boxes of mangoes neatly stacked on top of one another. So, you decided to get to work and grabbed the first two boxes you see.

“Are these all of it?” you heard Seokjin ask (possibly the driver of the truck). You couldn’t really see, because the boxes were obstructing your view.

“There’s two more left,” the other person, who sounded like a man, replied. “Let me get those out.”

You made about two rounds in and out of the hotel before all of the boxes outside were brought in. Seokjin had to do the absolutely most as usual bringing way more boxes in than he could carry, and while he tried to play it cool as much as possible, you could tell he was struggling. His trembling arms were a clear tell that he could drop everything at given moment.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” you asked him, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling inside you.

“Does it look like I need your help?” Seokjin scoffed, which only made it harder to keep your laughter in. He couldn’t even look at you as he tried walking inside, because he was far too concentrated in keeping all of the mangoes inside these boxes. “Go away, you’re distracting me and my strength.”

As he continued to carry the boxes inside, you watched a couple of mangoes fall out and roll on the ground in front of you. He didn’t even seem to notice, because he kept walking. You only shook your head before bending down to quickly pick them up before they get too dirty.

Assuming that you’ve picked everything off the ground, you stood up and tried to catch up to Seokjin, who was already by the door. But rather than joining him, you were stopped. “Excuse me, miss!” you heard the foreign voice enter your ears. “You forgot these!”

You turned around to grab the mangoes out of the driver’s hands. “Thank you,” you replied with a soft smile. “Sorry about my friend, he’s—”

When you looked up to meet his gaze, it was as if what you were about to say next was thrown at the window. The person standing in front of you looked familiar. Even with the brim of his large straw hat hovering over his eyes, you could clearly see the prominent beauty marks on his features that resembled the ones of your soulmate in that one drawing.

It was him. It had to be.

[ao3bronte]

To Live Without Loving (is not really to live)

Also on AO3

Et vivre sans aimer n'est pas proprement vivre. - Molière

“Marinette!”

With a start, Marinette shoves her mobile phone beneath her pillow and grabs the novel beside her, opening it at random, “Oui, Maman?”

“It’s nearly 23:00,” Sabine announces, hoisting the apartment's trapdoor open and peeking inside, “Why are your lights still on?”

Marinette grimaces, “I have to finish this book by tomorrow and I’m still not done!”

Raising an eyebrow, Sabine climbs up the steps and gently pads towards Marinette’s bedside, “You’ve been at it for hours and you’re telling me that you’re still not finished?”

Marinette knows a lost cause when she sees one, “I may have gotten…distracted.”

“Hmm,” Sabine crosses her arms across her chest, “You have ten minutes, then it’s lights out.”

“But Maman…”

“Hush. Your brevet is coming up soon and I expect you to excel, as you always do. You need your sleep.”

Marinette groans, “Oui, Maman.”

“Doux rêves, mon coeur.”

Marinette returns the sentiment and watches as Sabine closes the trapdoor behind her. She listens, holding her breath as her mother’s footsteps carry down the stairs, leading into the bedroom. After a moment or two of quiet chatter, her parent’s bedroom door opens and squeaks shut with a click.

“Finally.” Exhaling, Marinette snatches her vibrating phone out from under her pillow and slides her thumb against it, illuminating the screen. An image of the infamous cabaret Le Chat Noir casts a shadow across her bedroom, “Allo?”

“M’Lady! I thought you had fallen asleep on me.”

Marinette rolls her eyes, “I got distracted.”

“Not distracted enough to leave me hanging, are you?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Until then, mon amour.”

Quickly, Marinette taps the end call button against her fingertips and slips from beneath her covers, eager to sneak out before it gets too late in the evening. She tugs on a pair of pyjama pants and crawls outside, crossing over to the potted plants hanging from the wrought iron railings enclosing her balcony.

“Ready to go?” Tikki asks, rising from the fronds. Marinette nods and fastens the zip of her sweater before allowing Tikki to merge with her Miraculous, bathing the balcony in scarlet light. Mask safely affixed to her skin, she slips out into the evening breeze and leaps across the rooftops, eventually plopping down onto their favourite meeting spot along the city-spanning river, the Seine.

“Bonsoir, ma chérie!”

Ladybug turns towards the source of the racket as Chat Noir drops onto the quai from above, landing in a crouch beside her. The lattice of the bench she’s sitting on trembles as he digs his claws into the metal, steadying his balance, “Hey Chat. How’s my favourite stray?”

Chat spreads his arms dramatically, “La vie est belle!”

“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Ladybug smiles, relaxing against the backrest.

“My day improves exponentially each time I get to see you.”

“Really?” Ladybug is pretty sure that if she rolled her eyes any harder, they might just get stuck there, “It’s been, what, two days since we last crossed paths?”

“An eternity,” Chat replies, holding his hand over his chest, “It wounds me to be so close, and yet so far.”

Ladybug can’t help but snort, “I can’t say that I’ve missed your melodrama.”

“Forgive me M’Lady, but I’ve been forced into reading Molière for the past week and I feel it may be rubbing off on me.”

Ladybug hesitates before responding, having just left L'École des femmes sitting on her duvet not twenty minutes ago, “Let’s just get down to business, shall we?”

Chat smiles and opens his palm to the horizon, “Après vous.”

~

“Chat!”

Ladybug screeches to a halt and uses her momentum to launch herself against the buildings lining the boulevard, pulling a hard 180° turn. She flings her yoyo and it wraps around the base of a satellite dish, sending her flying back to Chat’s location, “Are you okay?!”

He’s lying in the base of a crater, the akuma having body slammed him into the concrete, “Never better!”

Ladybug drags her eyes from Chat’s prone body and focuses on the akuma instead. Its body is huge, not unlike the rock monster they encountered on their very first adventure together. However, this particular akuma is far more calculating and intelligent that she had initially assumed.

“Hey! Bonehead!” Ladybug hollers to distract the monster from squashing Chat again. She can tell from his wheezing that whatever the akuma did to him while she wasn’t looking, he would need a minute or two to recuperate, “Look over here!”

Using her yoyo, Ladybug swings back and forth, drawing the hulking mass of a monster towards her. She reaches the other side of the boulevard and runs down the length of it, leaping off of a bench and vaulting back up into the sky. The akuma lumbers towards her, its hands flailing wildly in her general direction, and Ladybug does all that she can to keep one eye on potential tools for a plan and the other on Chat.

“Alright akuma,” she mutters, “Let’s get this over with.”

Ladybug raises her hand above her head with a flourish, summoning her Lucky Charm. It’s a sledge and it doesn’t take long for her to figure out what to do with it. With the help of her yoyo, a cement truck parked up the way, a tandem bicycle and a clothesline, Ladybug effectively smashes the monster to bits and releases the black akuma hiding inside its abdomen. Ladybug reaches up to capture it, purifying its soul, and releases it to the mercy of the winds.

“Bravo!”

Ladybug is already halfway over when Chat starts pulling himself out of his Chat sized crater. He droops over the chunks of concrete, wincing when the hole corrects itself under Ladybug’s restorative magic, and rolls over onto his back instead.

“Are you alright?”

Chat blinks up at Ladybug, “My Lady, il le faut avouer, l'amour est un grand Maître.”

“Ugh,” she groans, running her gloved hand over her face as her Miraculous begins to beep at her, “If you’re well enough to recite love poems to me, then you’re well enough to get up.”

She offers him her hand and he takes it, brushing himself off as she hauls him up easily, “Excuse me for being well versed in the classics, M’Lady. I am a cultured cat.”

“You have a test tomorrow on Molière, don’t you?”

Caught, Chat glares at her sidelong, “It’s an in-class essay, I’ll have you know.”

“Well, don’t let me Horace you any longer.”

Chat gapes at her suddenly, his eyes wide, “Did you…did you just…?”

“Make a pun? Maybe, maybe not,” she smirks, batting him on the nose, “Now, it’s time to get going. You need your beauty sleep.”

“But—”

“Off with you,” she grins, gesturing at him to leave with a flick of her wrist, “À plus!”

~

It isn’t a particularly long walk to school the next morning, but Marinette spends most of it thinking about her in-class essay. It’s one of the very last assignments that will count towards her brevet at the end of the year; it’s also the third time since the beginning of the semester that Chat has mentioned having to work on a school assignment.

The same school assignment as her.

It’s been niggling at her thoughts for some time now, the fact that Chat may very well be a student in her grade. First, it was the same unit test in maths that had come up in their conversation and between the binomials and trinomials clogging her brain, Marinette hadn’t thought anything of it. But a few months later, it happened again and Chat was waxing poetic about a particular stream of science and the experiment he was completing in class…

...which was the exact same experiment that had blown up in her face that afternoon.

Armed with the sheer determination to ignore any and all comparisons between her life and his, Marinette stuck her head in the proverbial sand and promptly tuned him out whenever school came up in their conversations. That is, until last night.

Marinette tugs at her ponytails and racks her brain for clues. There are only two 3ème classes in Collège Françoise Dupont and she shares her age with only five other blond boys, one of which is shorter than her. There’s the twins in Mlle Mendeleiev’s class, but they both have much bigger noses than Chat. Then there’s Christien, and that would be impossible given his fairly distinctive Belgian accent which leaves the only other option as…

...Adrien Agreste.

She watches him duck into his locker from the other side of the room and wince as he holds his ribs gingerly, grimacing at another one of Nino’s terrible dad jokes. He’s quoting Molière again, favouring his left arm as he waves it around theatrically, making Nino roll his eyes in response.

Oh.

When she sits down, lined paper in hand and essay prompt at the top, she’s never been so sure of something in her life.

She’s going to fail this essay spectacularly.

And, Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir.

[janaikam]

My second to last commission for the @mlbforblm drive. This one was a pool request by @chatnoirinette for a djwifi date with marichat/ladrien. Because I’m marichat trash I decided to make this one with djwifi and marichat. I hope you all enjoy!

Thank you @marikittynoir for betareading!

Summary: Walking back home one night, Alya spots Marinette letting Chat Noir into her room. Alya and Nino accidentally uncover a bit more than expected when confronting their friend about the situation.

X

“Nino, I’m fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve walked back home alone.” Alya held her phone close to her ear as she glanced from side to side, watching for cars before crossing the sidewalk.

She was passing by her old college, Francois Dupont, which meant she had only a ten-minute walk left until she got home safe and sound.

Unfortunately, Nino wasn’t having any of that.

“Yeah, you do, but normally you’re walking in the daylight not the middle of the night!” Nino exclaimed on the other end. She could just imagine him pacing in his room, worrying about her. Nino was super sweet and she loved that he cared so much, but times, like this, it could be really annoying.

“I didn’t mean to stay so long at the library on purpose, but hey, at least I didn’t stay until dawn again! Plus this time I called you,” Alya pointed out.

The library Alya had just come from was this new 24 hour one that opened up. They had regular library hours, but if you wanted to stay behind and do your own research they let you pay for a membership. Alya had jumped on the opportunity as soon as she heard that they had a whole section on superheroes. There had been many times when she either stayed at the library all night or fallen asleep and Nora had to come pick her up because it got too late.

Tonight she really tried to leave at a decent time. She had even set an alarm, but that darn snooze button would be the death of her. She had been doing some research on past Ladybug miraculous users for the Ladyblog, and by her probably 10th time pressing snooze, she had noticed a bunch of college-aged students glaring at her. She had packed up everything really quickly and exited the building before checking the time on her phone. It had been 11:00 P.M.

“Do I have to start coming with you to make sure this stops happening?”

Alya rolled her eyes as she stopped at the crosswalk not too far from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The bakery lights were off, but she could see Marinette’s bedroom light still on. Hmm. Maybe she could throw pebbles at her window like a little Romeo. But then Marinette would convince her to stay the night and she couldn’t afford to do that.

“No, dad. I’m fine. In fact, I’m about to pass by Marineee…” Alya trailed off, staring blankly at Marinette’s balcony.

Alya watched as Chat Noir landed on top of the balcony. He knocked twice before Marinette’s head poked out of the trapdoor and she kissed him on the cheek before moving so Chat could enter her room.

“Alya?! Are you there? What’s wrong?” Nino’s panicked voice interrupted Alya’s racing thoughts.

Alya gulped as the crosswalk light turned green, but she didn’t move an inch too scared that she might unravel what she just witnessed.

“Nino, I think Marinette is dating Chat Noir.”

                                                           XXX

No one could ever say Nino never supported Alya.

Alya wanted to be the power duo at Just Dance? He broke out his best dancing shoes and helped her climb to the top.

Alya wanted to chase akumas? Nino was there by her side, making sure she didn’t kill herself in the process.

Alya wanted to be a superhero? Nino was Rena Rouge’s number one fan and everyone knew it.

Alya wanted to help track down Hawkmoth? Well, Nino was more than happy to give the old fart a piece of his mind.

But when Alya suggested her best friend was dating the cat-themed superhero of Paris? Well, that was just a little too hard for him to believe.

Ignoring the fact that Marinette has a giant crush on his best friend, Chat Noir just wasn’t her type. Marinette never seemed to be interested in the boastful arrogant types. At least from what he remembered about her. But then again he could be wrong about her. Heck, he could even be wrong about Chat Noir. Yet none of that even began to explain why the two of them would be spending time with each other that they would start to even date.

It just made 0 sense.

“Nnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooo,” Alya drawled. “I know what I saw. Marinette kissed Chat Noir and then proceeded to let him into her room!”

“Maybe it isn’t what you think it is?” Nino suggested hopefully.

“What am I supposed to think, Nino!? That my best friend is just sneaking a boy in a leather-looking magical catsuit into her room in the middle of the night for the heck of it?”

Nino shrugged. “They could just be friends who are hanging out? Chat Noir doesn’t always have to parade around as Paris’ superhero. He’s probably just a normal everyday person and Marinette decided to help him feel normal. I mean Marinette is super nice about those things.”

“But the kiss! The Kiss, Nino!”

“Uhh...maybe they’re friendly? I mean we’re French. We kiss in greeting.”

Alya gave Nino a deadpanned look.

“What else am I supposed to say? There are so many other logical explanations for why Marinette would kiss Chat Noir as he snuck into her bedroom.” Nino paused for a second. “Okay, that sounded really bad as I said it, but c’mon Alya. You really think Marinette would start dating Chat Noir?”

Alya tapped a pen on his cap. “That’s what I’m going to find out!”

Nino groaned, knowing Alya she’d devise some crazy scheme to get Marinette to confess that she was dating Chat Noir.

“Alya, please, don’t do anything stupid,” he begged.

“Stupid? Who me?” Alya blinked innocently as she walked towards the door. “Relax, I’ve got it all figured out.”

Alya winked at him as she exited the apartment.

Hopefully, Marinette has better luck than me convincing her.

                                                          XXX

“On your left!” Adrien shouted as he moved his cat-themed character across the Marshmallow Marsh.

Thanks to Adrien, Nino just narrowly avoided a sugar bomb. Maneuvering around the sticky mess left in its wake, Nino was able to catch up to Adrien’s character as they reached the end of the marsh and the end of the level.

Candy Chompers was one of Adrien and Nino’s favorite games ever since they discovered it two months ago. They had been enamored by the sugary sweet world and all the characters and adventures that came with it.

It was really a nice change from the games that guys their age played. Less violence and gore. More cute adorable animals wanting to save their world from being overrun by the evil Candy Lord.

As the next level loaded, Nino felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He shifted his position on Adrien’s couch so he could reach the phone.

Nino groaned as he read the text from Alya. So Marinette failed at her job yesterday.

Adrien glanced at Nino. “Everything okay?”

“No.” Nino paused the game, running his hand through his hair. “Apparently, Marinette and Chat Noir are dating and it seems Alya is making us go on a double date Saturday.”

“Wait, Alya found out Marinette and Chat Noir are dating?” Adrien asked, almost fearful.

“Yeah, crazy right?” Nino set his controller on the arm of the couch. “I always thought you two would get together.”

“Heh, yeah, Marinette and I. Definitely won’t happen now. Cause she’s with Chat. Hehe.”

Nino raised his eyebrows. Adrien was acting weirder than usual. And that was saying a lot, considering he always had the lamest excuses when akumas happened. Nino never really questioned the excuses though. Whatever he was doing when they occurred was Adrien’s business.

“So you’re going on a double date with Chat Noir?”

Nino nodded.

“Awesome. Great. Amazing.”

Before Nino could ask about Adrien’s weird response, Adrien unpaused the game, forcing Nino to refocus on the level ahead.

Adrien’s behavior was weird, but maybe he just had more feelings for Marinette than Nino thought. Man, he really shouldn’t have mentioned the double date in front of Adrien. Poor dude.

                                                          XXX

“I still don’t see why you had to invite them over for a date,” Nino said, watching Alya pull out her famous chicken casserole from the oven. The smell of the dish alone was enough to get Nino’s mouth watering.

Placing the hot dish on the stove, Alya turned towards Nino. “I needed to see if this little kitty is good enough for our Mari.”

“Alya. He’s a superhero. You’ve had interviews with him. How can you say he’s not good enough for Nette?”

There was the sound of voices coming from Alya’s front door, so Nino moved to go open it. From what he could tell the two people outside of it were arguing.

“For all we know, Chat Noir could just be keeping up appearances. Knowing the entirety of Paris is watching, he could have just put on this fake personality, and underneath he’s just this ugly troll, trying to hurt our precious Marinette.”

Nino rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s antics.

“Why are you dressed like that?” One of the voices in the hallway said. Kind sounded like Marinette if he really focused on the voice.

“I thought that this was appropriate.” Wow, that sounded a lot like Adrien. “Especially considering they think that��”

The voices stopped as soon as Nino opened the apartment door.

Huh, so it was Marinette’s voice he heard, but definitely not Adrien’s.

Marinette and Chat Noir looked like little kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Both of them looked extremely stiff as they stood next to each other right outside the apartment door.

“Oh, you’re here!” Nino jumped at Alya’s sudden appearance behind him. “Nino, don’t make them stay out there all night.”

“Yeah, c’mon in!” Nino moved aside to let the couple in.

“You came at a perfect time, I just took out the food. I’ll bring it out in just a second!” Alya said, walking back into the kitchen.

“Okay, Alya. We’ll be at the dining table,” Marinette responded, leading Chat over to the table in the dining room.

Nino wasn’t sure if it was just him, but Marinette seemed extremely tense like she was a mouse stuck in a field of mouse traps.

There was an awkward pause at the table once the three sat down. Neither of the couple in front of Nino seemed very eager to strike up a conversation. Probably just nerves.

Considering the circumstances, Nino figured that they never really expected to go on a double date ever, so now being on one was likely very weird.

“Uh, so, Chat, what do you like to do for fun?” Nino asked.

“Oh, you know. Everyday teenage boy things. Play video games, flex in the mirror, save princesses. Normal everyday activities. Hehe.”

“What games do you play?”

“I play a bit of Ultimate Mecha Strike III and Cand—OW!”

Nino watched confused as Chat Noir brought his foot up to his face and cradled it. Marinette didn’t seem at all concerned by her boyfriend’s antics. Instead, she was glancing back towards the kitchen where Alya was adding some finishing touches on her casserole.

“Oh, so you and Marinette must’ve bonded over your love for UMS3. She’s like the queen of that game. I still have yet to meet someone who could beat her at it.”

Chat Noir scoffed. “I’ve beat Little Miss Constipation Girl here at UMS3 multiple times.”

Of all the names to call Marinette, that had to be the weirdest one ever. He definitely had to ask about that later. As far as he knew , the only people who knew about the constipation incident were him, Alya, the girls, and Adrien. Well Nino only knew because Adrien had told him about his trip to London and Alya filled him in on some minor details after the fact.

Marinette either blushed in embarrassment at the nickname or at the fact that she wasn’t an unbeatable mastermind at UMS3. “You only won both times because you cheated by distracting me!”

“A true champion knows not to get distracted by the tiniest of things.” Chat had a smug smirk on his face as he watched Marinette turn as red as a tomato.

“Why you mangy little all-”

“Dinner is served!” Alya announced, interrupting Marinette.

Whatever the incident was surrounding UMS3, Nino was definitely never going to bring that up again for fear of his life or Chat’s life.

“So what were you guys talking about?” Alya asked, taking the seat beside Nino.

“Nothing much. Wow, babe this looks amazing. Let’s dig in!” Nino exclaimed, quickly grabbing a serving of the casserole.

Chat and Marinette followed suit while Alya gave Nino a look that read, ‘What the heck is going on?’. Instead of answering the exact question she was thinking, Nino turned towards his plate and started filling his mouth with food.

Alya shook her head at his antics, grabbing her own portion.

The next few minutes were spent in a comfortable silence as everyone dug into the food.

Alya really out did herself this time. Maybe Marinette should sneak around with superheroes more often if this is how Alya ends up cooking.

“You’re a hungry little cat aren’t you?” Alya asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Looking up, Nino saw Chat with his claw (paw?) on the spoon for the casserole dish.

“Sorry, I didn’t get to eat a whole lot today and this is really good food, Ms. Ladyblogger.”

Nino, along with Alya and Marinette, looked at Chat concerned. Of all people, Nino would’ve thought a superhero would eat enough to stay healthy. Superheroes like Chat and Ladybug were always out there running around stopping akumas. Not eating enough food? That was practically a death wish.

“Nino, could you go get the leftover coleslaw from our lunch earlier. I think Chat needs it more than Ella and Etta.”

Nino immediately complied, more than eager to help out the poor boy who consistently saved Paris.

“No, you don’t have to!” Chat started shaking his hands, trying to stop Nino.

“Dude, we have a model friend who doesn’t eat enough as it is and I always make him eat some of my leftovers. As far as I know you’re not a model, but you save Paris like everyday so a healthy diet is a must.” Nino pushed the bowl of coleslaw into Chat’s arms. “Here, take as much as you want.”

“Oh, um, thanks. I’m not really sure what to say.” Chat blushed.

“You don’t say anything. Just eat.” Marinette grabbed the coleslaw from Chat’s hands and filled his plate with a nice serving. Alya did similar and picked up the casserole dish, piling even more food onto his plate.

“Oh, okay then.” Chat picked up his fork and stared at his plate now full of food.

“I don’t see a lot of eating going on there.” Marinette had her hands on her hips, watching Chat to make sure he would eat. Chat clearly didn’t want to test Marinette on the topic of food, so he complied by eating the food in front of him.

“I think I finally get it. Marinette is dating Chat to make sure that he would be eating enough!” Alya shouted after a few minutes watching the two.

“Wait what you think I’m dating Chat!?” “That’s exactly the reason!”

Marinette and Chat blurted at the same time.

Nino furrowed his eyebrows at Marinette’s statement. That didn’t make a lot of sense considering they were currently on a double date.

“Wait, what do you mean you and Chat aren’t dating?” Apparently, Alya also picked up on Marinette’s statement.

“Um, well you see Chat is here, umm, filling in for Adrien because you mentioned how you saw me with my boyfriend and I’m dating Adrien hehe.” Marinette smiled unconvincingly.

“So you’re not dating Chat Noir?”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m not...did you think I was?”

“Uh, yeah! I saw him sneak into your room one night and you kissed him on the cheek!”

Marinette glanced at Chat. “Oh, uh, you saw that? Chat and I just hang out sometimes. Giving each other cheek kisses and all.”

Alya blinked while Nino grinned at the explanation. It was practically the same explanation he had given Alya when this whole thing started.

“Oh. Then that means you’re dating Adrien?”

Marinette nodded.

“And Chat filled in because Adrien couldn’t make it?”

Marinette nodded again.

“Uh, I have a question.” Nino felt the entire table’s eyes on him as he spoke. “Why did Chat volunteer if you and Adrien were keeping your relationship a secret? Why not just say Adrien couldn’t come instead of outing your secret to three people?”

“Adrien and I are bad at keeping secrets?” Marinette said more so as a question.

“Clearly.” Alya sighed. Nino could tell she was just as confused as he was.

There was just something about her story that didn’t add up. It was really bugging him, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Unless it was…

“Hey, Nette, did you ever tell Chat about the prescription incident?”

“No, why?”

That was it. That was what didn’t make sense. “Why did Chat call you ‘Little Miss Constipation Girl’ earlier?”

“Uhh…”

“There was another constipation incident!”

Alya gave the pair a look of disbelief. “As much as I could believe Marinette had some separate constipation incident. I feel like your actions suggest otherwise.”

“I mean it’s not like there’s anything ba—Oh my gosh, Chat’s Adrien.” The answer just hit Nino like a bullet train. How could he have been so blind. Adrien was the only dude who even knew about that stupid constipation incident. And then his actions lined up almost perfectly with how Chat acted. Even his reaction at the dinner invite. He was probably completely confused on who he was supposed to show up as.

“How could I have been so blind!” Alya exclaimed next to him.

“I guess we let the Chat out of the bag, huh?” Chat whispered to Marinette.

“No, you did!”

“Nah, it was a team effort.”

[miraculous-rewrite]

Miraculous Rewrite- Heartfelt King

....I suppose one may call this a shipping episode

The scene opens on Team Miraculous’s base. Alya’s facing the camera, and her arms are crossed, expression full of focus. As the camera zooms out, Marinette comes into view, shifting from foot to foot, hands held behind her back. Just as the girl opens her mouth, Alya butts in. 

“Marinette, you know I love you, you’re one of my first friends I’ve made here in Paris.” She begins, and Marinette’s expression lightens up. “HOWEVER, that also means I gotta dish out some tough love. You NEED to talk things out with Adrien, no matter what the outcome ends up being.” 

“Alya-”

“No. Girl, It has been MONTHS since we found out about all of the ‘Adrien has a thing for you’ business. And you know? I wanted to give you breathing room on it, You were dating Luka, and then you had just BROKEN UP with Luka, but it’s been months since that went on and you’re both moving on. And Adrien STILL looks at you like you hung the damn moon in the sky and you haven’t even told me how you feel about all of this! ME!”

“Well-! Alya I don’t know! He didn’t really break up with Kagami I’m not gonna ruin it-”

“There’s getting between people and there’s ignoring your own feelings Marinette. You don’t need to DO anything about it, but you do need to have your head clear. You’re already leading us to war girl, You should at least get some clarity in all of this. So here’s what we’re gonna do.” Alya plops her hands onto Marinette’s shoulders “The boys are doing a Kitty Section recording today, and you’ve been hands off in favor of those professional designers for awhile now. You and me are gonna head over there, you’re gonna see Adrien rocking out on his keys, and then you tell me. Just Me. Whether you still have feelings for him or not. We’re not in college anymore, I’m not gonna try and push you to confess or anything, okay? I promise.” (Justa biiit of Shade)

Marinette still looks uncomfortable, but seems about to give in. She huffs a sigh and her shoulders loosen but before she can agree Alya cuts her off with a yawn. Marinette’s gaze snaps back forward, and she grabs Alya’s chin. Now ALYA’s the one uncomfortable as Marinette tilts her head this way and that. “Did… Did you pull another all-nighter for the Heist board?!”

“Adrien’s bodyguard is still unaccounted for! I haven’t seen anything from him entering or exiting the mansion in months! Did- did they fire him because he was witness to too much did they kidnap him? The Old Order is CRAWLING around that place they could have killed him for all we know! We’ve got a missing person who’s an unknown variable in ALL of this!”

“Alya, either go home or I’m siccing Nino on you. Get some sleep.”

“What?! Marinette I’m fine! This isn’t about me! This is about you addressing your suppressed emotional bull and-!”

“Nino! Did you know your girlfriend pulled another all-nighter?” Nino’s head pops up from behind the kitchenette countertop. “I have a thing, can you force her to take care of herself for me?”

“That’s cold, Mari.” Alya hisses but Nino’s already zipping over with a ‘Oh no ya don’t!’ So suddenly Alya has been manhandled by her boyfriend and slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

“I’ll get her some bedrest. In a REAL bed this time.” Alya’s grumbling continues. “My place or yours babe? Ehhh that’s too long we’ll just use Chloe’s room.” Alya’s grumbling gets louder. “I’m texting permissions right now, keep your beret on… Aaaannnddd yeah, but you’re gonna need to borrow her Pj’s because she doesn’t want you wearing your sweat stained all-nighter clothes all over her nice bed sheets….which...fair.” 

“Marinette you can’t just get out of this!”

“She won’t be.” A more calm voice pipes up. And who else, but a Miss Kagami Tsurugi approaches. “I will be accompanying Marinette. It’s about time my own focus was re-evaluated as well, and no matter what conclusions either of us come towards they are ours alone. You need not worry.”

“Kagami you don’t have to- This, This isn’t as important as what your guys’ relationship is! You don’t have to help me with my-”

“Marinette your friendship is as valuable to me as anything between Adrien and I.” Said with direct eye contact and sincerity. “Whether either of our conclusions are the same or differ, I would hope and want nothing more than the relationship we have with each other to remain unshaken.” She takes Marinette’s hands in her own. “I’d rather give up on Adrien as a romantic prospect entirely than lose you over it.”

Marinette looks… honestly about to cry for a hot second there before squeezing Kagami’s hands back. “I uh.. I feel the same way.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay. We’ll do this. And Alya you will be the first to know, as long as you Get. Some. Sleep.”

But Alya doesn’t seem as concerned with the argument right now, she’s glancing between the two of them and looking… very fascinated indeed. “Uh.. yeah totally… Gentle Chauffeur, the penthouse please!” She taps Nino’s shoulder and he huffs before heading out toward the elevator.

Cue intro

We re-open on Agreste Manor, and specifically Gabriel on the phone with someone. “Yes I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but Adrien is your top priority right now! Vladamir I am paying you to look out for my son, whether he’s currently living with me or not is not the question! Just because he’s taking a break from his modelling doesn’t mean he’s not-! ...I see. Thank you. Yes. Keep me posted.”

“Having your bodyguard spy on your son? How Supervillanous” a youthful voice pops up, Gabriel jumps and spins on his heel and sure enough there’s Sun Min. 

“Sun Min.”

“Gabriel Agreste.” 

“Valoor!” a bright voice and a fluffy of Blue darts out from Gabriel’s inner pocket.

“Duusuu!” an equally bright voice responds and a little lion zips out from his hiding spot on Sun Min’s person. The two Kwami’s dramatically tackling each other in a hug.

“It’s been so long! I missed you so!” Duusuu cheers

“We spoke but a few hours ago my friend.” Valoor responds, gently petting Duusuu’s feathers back. “Has your new wieldr been treating you kindly?”

“Oh yes! M. Gabriel is very sure I remain in the present, very strict to remind me what’s already been done when my memory scatters about!”

“That’s good! I’m glad!” as the two Kwamis chatter back and forth Sun Min walks up to Gabriel, peering over his shoulder at his work. 

“Can I help you?” Gabriel finally asks after a beat.

“Do you ever wonder if you’re on the wrong side?”

“...what?”

“I’m not a blind man, Gabriel Agreste. You’re clearly not the one my family has their eye on. And I was wondering your perspective on things.”

Gabriel narrows his eyes, but Sun Min holds his gaze evenly. He huffs and turns to his screen. 

“There’s nothing I can say that you won’t apply your own assumptions onto.”

“Try me.”

“I’d rather not. If you worry about my loyalty then I can assure you my conviction has not wavered.”

“Master Wan says you lack conviction-”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

“Your loyalty lies in your family not your cause.” Sun Min responds with a shrug. “You’re only Hawkmoth because of your wife….or were I suppose. Miss Sancour claims you tried quitting once for your Son’s sake. Now your son is on the other side of a war, and your wife is no closer to being healed than she would be if you took her out of the pod and just prayed that she’d come out of that magical coma on her own.”

“Do you have a point here?”

“Just that after the War the Order got really concerned with loyalty. And they don’t think you have any that they can exploit. Nathalie is ONLY your sister-in-law after all.”

“She’s family.”

“True, but is she family worth losing Adrien over? She used to only be here for Adrien, for Emilie, but now...” Sun Min shrugs. “She’s the kind that can get very wrapped up in things isn’t she? My teachers know how to capitalize on that.”

Gabriel looks up, but Sun Min is already walking toward the door. “Come, Valoor. Leave the Peacocks to their primping.” Valoor gives Duusuu a quick kwami smooch upon the cheek and darts back over to Sun Min. Duusuu watches the two go before drifting back over to Gabriel. “I think Sun Min likes you!”

“Is that what that was?” Duusuu laughs, but Gabriel seems distracted, he hunches slightly over his desk and looks deep in thought. We match cut him gently tapping his pen against the desk rhythmically with Ivan starting off the tempo on his drumsticks.

Hey! It’s been awhile since we’ve seen some of these guys hasn’t it? Kitty Section is doing another music video sound stage setup. Apparently this time it’s a dusty wasteland as there’s a giant fan blowing against the group, and though their iconic look is still in place it’s been offset by a ‘steampunk apocalypse’ sort of aesthetic. Rose is of course singing into the mic as the others are blasting it on their own instruments. This is a visual capture day of course, so they don’t have to be perfect, but it’s still important to try at all times. 

We cut to the backstage, specifically the snack table, and we see a few people there we expect, Jagged Stone watching his Protege band in pride, Penny of course not far behind him looking with a more critical eye. We see Mylene there with Ivan’s big fuzzy jacket around her small shoulders, and Chloe’s sitting beside a makeup kit, tapping on her phone idly. But we also See, surprisingly, Prince Ali. He’s happily munching on a snack and looking for all the world like he’s at a real life rock concert for the first time. 

Jagged Stone gets a text and his expression brightens up. He whispers something to Penny who rolls her eyes but nods with a small smile. He slips out quietly, and we follow Jagged for a bit longer as he immediately TEARS through the studio to get to the front lobby.

“Marinette! How’s my favorite Honorary Style Niece?!” He strides forward and wraps her up in a hug. “Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! What’s going on, you avoiding me?”

“Jagged!” Marinette hugs him back as she’s lifted off the ground. “Sorry! Things have been crazy on my end!” She’s set down and Jagged takes Kagami in, his grin turning into a smirk. “And who’s this? My little Marinette finally got herself a girlfriend? Knew ya had it in you.” he winks at her and Marinette and Kagami both blush. 

“Oh! No no! Uh… Jagged Stone, this is my friend Kagami. Kagami, this is Jagged Stone.”

“I believe we’ve met Mister Stone, if briefly, I was on Mme Coffaine’s boat with the others during the Desperada situation.”

“Oh? Sorry that day was a huge blur of caffeine and Akuma violence. Well Glad to re-meet you then!”  Jagged stone pats her shoulders. “I’m guessing you two want in to see your friends recording their next music video?”

“...is that okay?” Marinette asks suddenly rather shy. 

“Psshh! Please! If anything it’ll remind the costumers just WHO came up with their look! Come on, Come on! Just be quiet so the recording doesn’t get messed up.”

Jagged grabs Marinette’s wrist who in turn grabs Kagami’s wrist and the three of them are off.

The three return to the room just as a song begins to hit the bridge. Rose’s voice peters away as a Spoken Word part comes up, and Juleka leans into her own microphone to carry the bridge. 

Marinette and Kagami both slide into the throng of fellow kids, though Marinette does do a double take upon seeing Prince Ali here. 

“Hey-” She whispers. Ali jumps and turns with a smile.

“Mlle Dupain-cheng!” he whispers back. “I haven’t seen you since you and your friends transferred! How are you?”

“I’m fine….do you mind if I ask what brought you here? I didn't peg you for this genre.”

“Oh I'm most certainly not! Can’t say I’m enjoying the music itself, but could I really not come when I had the day off and Juleka and Rose were coming here?”

Marinette blinks in surprise, but there’s a really epic sounding guitar riff and she glances to the side, Kagami is focused on the band beside her, as is Mylene, and even Chloe who put down her phone. 

Specifically following Chloe’s gaze, Marinette notices that.. Oh! She’s watching Luka. Marinette glances between the two and smiles slightly before actually properly turning to watch the band itself. 

Marinette’s gaze is darting between band members, kind of… steadfastly avoiding the keyboard. But after a pause she sighs, reaches into her purse at her side and we get a quick cut of Tikki gently squeezing her finger in a sort of hug. She takes a deep breath and-

Adrien is one hundred percent lost in the rhythm, maybe via the directing maybe that's just how he’s doing it right now but he’s banging his head up and down to the rhythm, hitting the keys forcefully and thought he mask is covering his face looking for all the world that he truly loved being here and doing this. That he’d finally found something to do with all that time in learning piano other than playing the same genre over and over bored and alone.

 Marinette’s breath catches in her throat. In a series of flashes, we see pass behind Adrien in his kitty section costume, we see a few moments. The umbrella scene, Chat Noir standing beside her when she announced that the two of them would keep Paris safe, His near drowning at the end of Syren, tossing the stick to her with the last of his breath, the triumphant reappearance in his first upgrade. Not hesitating for a moment before placing his hand atop her own in the underground during Mayura, all the times they’d promised that they’d started this together and that’s how it’s gonna stay.

Her hands tremble as they press up against her chest. 

But then the song ends and the spell is broken. The director calls cut and instructs everyone to go take five. 

Ali runs forward before the band can leave the set and practically pounces on Rose and Juleka in his excitement. He’s talking about how lovely the two of them looked, the passion that goes into Rose’s singing and the cool power of Juleka’s bass playing. He’s just kinda gushing and the girls look delighted and embarrassed respectively. 

Luka takes off his mask with a sigh and heads for Chloe’s bench, picking up a water bottle beside her and taking a swig.

“I hope you’re not ruining your lipstick.” Chloe threatens, but there’s a smirk on her face and Luka rolls his eyes. “Well if I did you’d have to fix it, wouldn’t you?”

Ivan and Mylene are being cute as usual, Mylene taking off her noise mufflers and running up to Ivan before happily extolling how cool these new outfits look. 

Adrien stretches, and it seems like he hasn’t realized Kagami and Marinette are here yet. 

He stretches for a moment longer and yawns before blinking blearily into the spotlights and then finally focuses on the two girls. He jolts, pulling up his mask properly before grinning wide and running over. 

“Kagami! Marinette! What are you guys doing here?!”

“W-Well we figured it might be nice to drop in!” Marinette’s face is beet red, but Kagami only has a light flush on her cheeks as she picks the thread up. “Marinette claimed it's been some time since she handed off design capabilities to the official costuming department and wished to see how they’ve been handling you lot, and I volunteered to come with her as it’s been some time since I was present during these recordings.”

“Oh! Well, did you guys enjoy it? Took me awhile to get that last riff right and Juleka’s really proud of that bridge.”

“You guys did great!” Marinette responds. The stunned nature falling away as that old familiar routine slipped back into place. “You looked like you 100% knew what you were doing! Did you get directed to be all ‘rocking out’ or was that just a thing you wanted to do?”

“The director said one of us should probably do it and I figured it’d be less likely to bother me while I was playing.” He says with a chuckle.

“Well it certainly paid off for the overall effect.” Kagami adds in. “After the recording is done, would you like to accompany Marinette and me for coffee? Alya pulled another all nighter and we were going to rub it in her face that we can consume caffeine responsibly when she wakes up.” 

Marinette startles and looks at Kagami with shock, Kagami meets her gaze and tilts her head to the side slightly. Adrien looks between the two before grinning slightly. “Sure! I’d love to remind Alya to take better care of herself in passive aggressive pranks.”

“Alright everybody, we need another take, everyone not in the video scram!” the director finally shouts and the groups split off, but just as Ali parts from the two girls his phone rings. He shoots them both an apologetic look, and apologizes for keeping his ringer on at the director before exiting while answering the phone. 

Juleka and Rose share a look before Rose sighs and pulls her mask on, Juleka does the same after a beat. 

But we follow Ali now, just as he leaves the Studio. He’s talking softly with the person on the other side but it’s clear he’s irritated. “We agreed to this! My day off was scheduled months in advance! Is it so wrong of me to want to spend some time with my friends?”

“Your highness-” the voice on the other end is quickly identified as his chaperone. “There’s nothing wrong with spending time with friends of course; but you have to acknowledge the rumors that have been building up! People are starting to believe you’re stringing those two girls along. Jet Setting playboy prince doesn’t exactly fit the image you want to give off.”

“They are dating each other! I’m more of a third wheel than I am leading ANYONE on!”

“People still talk. Perhaps if you WERE dating one of them that would be a different case, but as it is Ali, rumors are going around, and at your age they can affect your future career as a philanthropist. I’m not asking you to ditch your friends or pretend to date one of them, but you need to be aware of what kind of image this can look like!”

“All it looks like is that I have friends! I know that must be difficult for some people to accept, but it’s true!”

“...is it?... Your highness if I’m allowed a moment of frankness, you spend every day off with those two. Every. One. They both accompany you to most charity drives you appear for, and any time of rest between events I can see you on your phone and I know you’re texting one or the both of them.”

“What are you trying to say, Mme Ahmed?” 

Mme Ahmed pauses before continuing “Ali I want to be sure you’re not setting yourself up to be hurt. Your abroad program will only last until the end of the school year, then you are to return home, if you’ve gained feelings for one of those girls-”

“I’m done here.”

“Your highness!”

“I shall speak with you more tomorrow, when it’s NOT my day off!” he hangs up the phone kind of aggressively but keeps it out, hanging from his hand. He grunts angrily and storms over to a window, peering outside.

“What does she know anyway? She doesn’t know what it’s like to be living like this! She gets to go home to a real PERSON who MARRIED her! But I’m not allowed to have either of them just because it ‘looks weird’ and ‘people are talking’? We’re happy! It’s not ILLEGAL to be happy! We’re stuck on a shot of Ali without his face in frame, focused on a hand pressed against his chest not unlike Marinette was before. “I’m not setting myself up to be hurt if this is what’s making me happy.” With a quick ‘background flashback’ we see a bit of Princess Fragrance through his perspective all that time ago, a fuzzy pastel background surrounding Princess Fragrance and ‘Fair Maiden’ Juleka, undoubtedly what he’d been seeing through the mind control perfume. Then to a sillier moment that we spied quickly during the christmas special, Rose helping him put together a recipe with Juleka peering over either of their shoulders snickering. 

And then one we didn’t see in an episode told in very quick flashes. His own hands gripping Rose’s shoulders, her eyes shut and ready for a kiss, one shot of him playing with Juleka’s hair, then the two of them cuddling with each other on the deck of the Liberty and they both smile and open their arms for the camera. His hand trails up from his chest to his mouth. 

“...She doesn’t know anything about what’s been going on.” 

“I couldn’t agree more. How bad is it to wish to be with the ones you love? Not at all! Yet how the world does judge one so should it be something considered unconventional. I truly weep for you. Heartfelt King, I can help you achieve that which you desire. Your kingdom will know only love, both for one another, and of your own. No more doubts, no more unfound worries. You need not but those you love, and soon the world will understand that as well. What say you, my king?”

“By my hand, it shall be done.”

We cut back to the band, back into the jamming and the loud energetic music. The same song from before because yes these things do need multiple takes. But right as the bridge comes up and Juleka leans in to do her part the doors are kicked down. The Director loudly yells ‘cut!’ without realizing what’s going on and gets up to spin around in his seat and yell at the intruder. 

But Heartfelt King beats him to the punch, he taps something on his phone and the director’s ringtone goes off, a small magenta bolt of energy racing through his body, his iris’ turn magenta and he rushes off calling someone. 

“My lovely Rose Garden! Juleka the Fair Maiden!” Heartfelt King opens his arms. “I’ve decided we can’t keep our love a secret any longer! We must let the world know the truth of our shared hearts!” Now, this is a bold choice granted just under half the people in this room are heroes. And all of them immediately begin to shoot each other looks. But Heartfelt King is pretty damn fast and taps a few buttons on his phone, and just as Luka is pulling off his guitar to try and manhandle the Akuma the magenta energy crawls up from the amp the guitar is plugged into and hits him. Heartfelt King sends a few more out in rapid fire, hitting Adrien’s keyboard, The microphone Ivan was about to pick up to throw, Mylene and Kagami’s phones, and Penny’s earpiece. Marinette and Chloe see this quick enough to toss their own phones away from themselves, Rose steps away from her microphone and Juleka pulls off her Bass just seconds before the energy hits her. 

“Be true to your hearts! Your king commands it!” Heartfelt King announces just as the energy runs its course through the victims. . Luka drops his guitar and practically breaks into a sprint to cross the room as quickly as possible. He reaches a more than a little stunned Chloe and grabs her hands, she hasn't gotten up from her seat yet but Luka kneels down so he’s looking up at her. 

“I love you Chloe. You’re brave and clever and far kinder than you give yourself credit for! Every day you keep pushing to improve and you never give yourself enough credit! The song inside you is so beautiful yet you never seem able to hear it but all I ever want to do is play it over and over until you realize how much you have to give.” 

Chloe.exe has stopped working. She honestly looks like she’s about to faint. Luka pulls her forward and wraps her up in his arms and her face turns blood red. 

Adrien vaults the keyboard and he and Kagami race toward each other, meeting halfway and professing their love for eachother. Marinette hums and looks sad but nor surprised before she lifts a chair into the air, about to head for Heartfelt King and plow through him until she can get away and transform when she’s suddenly tackled by two bodies from behind, sending her to the ground. 

“I love you Marinette!” Adrien coos. “You’re so talented and kind and you’re such an amazing responsible leader and sometimes I love you so much I feel completely UNWORTHY that you’re in my life at all and I just want to hold you forever.”

“I love you as well Marinette.” Kagami agrees “Your kindness and friendliness to both friends, rivals and former enemies has made me feel truly wanted in a way I find difficult to put words to and I wish to never lose you because of anything.”

And you know maybe Marinette COULD have ignored this and kept going if the two weren’t physically pinning her down, but here she was. 

However not everyone is quite so dramatic. Heartfelt King starts striding forward as to approach a frightful Rose and Juleka, when the amp Ivan was picking up goes hurtling through the air, it misses him, but only barely. Heartfelt King flinches and looks over and sure rough in the mayhem Ivan and Mylene are side by side, both of them holding sound stage equipment ready to throw. 

“Back off the ladies King Cupid!” Mylene announces, clearly channeling a bit of that Inner Actor as she reels back with a microphone.

“Looks like your little charm doesn’t work if people are already together!” Ivan lifts Adrien’s keyboard racing forward and wielding it like a bat, Heartfelt King dodges it easily but backs into someone, Jagged Stone. He wraps his arms around the lil’ Akuma guy and lifts him into the air.

“Well would ya look at that? I think I feel a love song comin’ on! Pen! You think I can fit a ballad into my next album?”  

Penny’s already getting the emergency exit open and corralling the unaffected/unattacked Kids outside. “I am NOT helping you shuffle around your set for a dumb joke, Jagged.”

“Psssh! I’d hardly call it dumb!”

The last two to race out are of course Juleka and Rose and Heartfelt King is rapidly working on his phone, shouting to be released. “My queens!” But the door shuts. “Release me!” He struggles further, but Jagged laughs “Nah I’m good! I got a lil’ lady waiting for me so I’m not afraid of you!”

“...You should be-” Heartfelt King presses a button on his phone and presses the screen to Jagged arm. The same magenta energy explodes outward, but this time Jagged Stone cries out in pain and drops the kid, his jacket smoking and singed as the akuma rushes for the door the others vanished down. 

“Why do I get the feeling that was one of Monarcha’s?”

“Because Monarcha actually gives us curveball Akumas.” 

“You two are awfully gabby for being restrained by people who have crushes on ya!”

“Our college was Akuma central, and lycee wasn’t much better.”

“...Fair ‘nough.”

“Hey Jagged can you get Chloe one of our phones? I can’t get either of my hands free but she probably can.”

“Not sure if I can move my arms, but I’ll try.”

Bugaboo - akuma ats the soundtsage is like an aprhodisiac akuma to make ppl fall in love with randos but if ur in a rleatyionshop already ur safe

Bugaboo - this is chloebtw me n marinette are kinda tired up rn i can barley see the damn screen

BuzzBuzz - RIP

MonkeyBusiness - OH HELL YEAH ROI SINGE TIME I KNEW MAKING ONDINE MY SK WOULD WORK PERF

Jabberwocky - do you think it’ll work for people who aren’t attracted to anyone? This Akuma sounds like its made for me

Chiron - Chloe might I ask whose already been hit?

Bugaboo - Adrikins kagami n luka 

Bugaboo - btw apparently polyamory is an option bc adrin n kagami both decided to go afftereachother and marinette so shes got two pieople pinnin her to the ground

BuzzBuzz - R I P

BuzzBuzz - I won’t be immune but i’ll show up 

Bugaboo - leave ur phone behnd idk if it works withthe weapnsbut he hits people through tech

Chiron - ….I will be sitting this one out if its all the same to you all.

Toitle - Alya’s in a dead sleep but i can come

Toitle - u guys gonna sit out or are ya comin?

Bugaboo - well be there when we can pry them offa us

We close the chat on Amber, humming nervously at her phone. “Hey Sabrina? Chloe got caught up in a romance related Akuma and I’m gonna go see if she’s okay.. After that whole… Thing… with the Harlequin, all the romance stuff is making me nervous.” 

We cut back and sure enough Amber is chillin in some cozy tea shop with Sabrina. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Yeah, I don’t like anyone right now so I’ll be okay…” She pauses for a second “Here, collateral so you know I'll come back.” She locks her phone and hands it to Sabrina.

“Wait- you.. You don’t have to do that!”

But Amber’s pulled her jacket back around her shoulders and already is taking off. Sabrina sighs and leans back in her seat, realizing after a beat that Amber had left more than enough Euros to pay for their food. She grins slightly and rolls her eyes. “Once a rich girl always a rich girl.”

But we follow Amber further as she curves into an alleyway and transforms. 

There’s a pause before we see Bellflower dart out upward. But before we follow with Amber we cut back to the Studio. Now we’re following Heartfelt King. 

“Honestly, If anything this is making it fun! I’ve never played ‘hard to get’ with anyone before!” he chirps as he investigates basically every room he can. “It’s refreshing! And it’ll be all the sweeter when we’re all reunited my loves!”

Still he huffs in frustration and pulls out his phone again, tapping a few times and the tech all around him courses with energy. “Hm… nothing in here… This is the last floor! Did they go to the roof? They wouldn’t have gotten TOO far-” 

“Hey Loverboy!” Heartfelt King turns and gets a staff to the face. He skids backward until he hits the wall and Roi Singe spins his staff once in triumph before hanging it across his shoulders “Hope you were having fun playing matchmaker cuz it’s time to chill out!”

 “You cannot keep me from my goals-!” The king taps his phone and while Roi Singe’s staff is unaffected the lights around him aren’t and start flickering, a tech chord springs to life and wraps around his ankle, shocking him. 

Roi Singe yelps as the energy courses through him and barely gets the damn wire off of him. He coughs and straightens his back.

“Well ‘love’ is a strong word I think, but I’m Super Into my datemate, so I THINK I’m good.”

“What?!” Roi Singe laughs and swipes out his staff again, this time nailing Heartfelt King in the side and sending him skidding down the hallway. 

“Wow you’re not very battle heavy huh? Here I thought you were Monarcha made! But ohhh Hawky just can’t get a good fighter in if he tries!” 

Heartfelt King however is a bit more clever than he is battle savvy, as he seemingly charges at Roi Singe again, he uses this time being knocked away to skid closer to the stairs and before Roi can react he books it upward toward the roof.

“....Ah crap.”

“What do you mean ‘ah crap’?!” we cut to the outside, Semmix and Bellflower already on the roof as Semmix talks into the communicator on her umbrella. Bellflower on the other hand is herding the small group of civilians toward the ledge. 

“It’s alright I can get you all down one by one-”

“-I mean Ah Crap like ‘he’s headed to the roof and I’m going as fast as I can’ Sem!” Roi snipes back on the other end. “Why’d they even go to the roof? That’s like classic ‘how to survive in a horror movie’ rules!”

“UGH I’ll take care of it Roi, if anyone’s immune to ‘magic love powers’ it's me. Go find Ladybug and Chess.”

“WOW OKAY SEM just ‘stay out of the way Roi’ I see how it is...” But Roi Singe laughs over the communicator and Semmix grins into it so clearly no harm no foul.

“See ya back at the base I guess-” Roi hangs up. Semmix just barely closes her communicator when the door clatters open. She wields her umbrella like a sword and charges. 

One would think with how easy the earlier fight had been with Roi Singe that Semmix would find it even easier, but unfortunately for us the little King has already learned and adapted from that experience, and despite Semmix’s smaller stature, he’s lighter on his feet than her and immediately meets the edge of her umbrella with the flat of his phonescreen. Magenta energy shoots from the phone and arcs up Semmix until she gets electrocuted much like how Jagged Stone was earlier and drops her umbrella, a bit of smoke training from her hand. 

“Be true to your heart young hero!” he holds his phone up to her and pressed the screen. The magenta energy comes out in the more familiar pulse, but Semmix is unmoved. 

“I dunno what to tell ya other than, THAT HURT YOU JERK-” Semmix swipes her foot out and catches Heartfelt King, tripping him up. 

But before we can see Semmix beat up literal royalty we cut back to Roi Singe. He’s wandering through the recording studio, peeking in to all the different sound stages and always coming up flat. 

“Ah! Here we go! Kitty Section.” He coughs politely into his hand and swings open the door, eyes squeezed shut. “Alright please tell me nobody’s been compelled to make out!”

“Roi Singe!”

“...We’re good.”

“Oh hey it’s the Monkey Man hero!”

“Oh shit that’s Jagged Stone-” Roi Singe runs up to Jagged, whose jacket sleeves have stopped smouldering, but the angry red marks are still all up and down his arms.  Roi runs right up to him and gently takes one of his arms in his hands. Jagged hisses in pain and shrugs away. 

“Not all at once man, can barely move these things without pain. Boy am I lucky Ladybug’s got healing powers huh? Would have to cancel the next concert if I was stuck like this!”

Oh yeah speaking of- Roi Singe looks over to the rest of the people here, and sure enough finds his unaccounted for friends. Marinette is still struggling out from the middle of an Adrimi sandwich, Both latched onto either side like a pair of very stubborn barnacles, and Chloe’s been somehow maneuvered to be sitting on Luka’s lap, his arms locked around her middle and pinning her arms to her sides.

“...Okay I see why this is an issue... “ he cracks his knuckles. “Think these guys can be distracted like normal akumas can?” 

“Roi Singe please don’t do anything stupid-” Marinette Starts, but Roi gets down on a knee so they’re at eye level.

“Marinette will you marry me?” He asks, drama heavy in his voice. 

Marinette looks like if her arms were free she’d facepalm. But her response doesn’t matter because both Adrien and Kagami dislodge from her to pounce on him. 

“Back off!”

“She’s ours!”

Jagged raises an eyebrow, before smirking himself despite Marinette shaking her head back and forth. “Y’know Chloe, I’ve got a nephew ‘round your age, I think you’d make a pretty nice couple.” 

Chloe is released as Luka stalks forward to Jagged Stone “She’s Spoken for!” 

“Prove it, Ankara’s brat.” 

Jagged is in a lot of pain still via electricity wounds but he’s fruitfully distracted Luka and Roi Singe with a furious Cat and Dragon pummeling him shoots the two girls a bright grin and a thumbs up. “I’ll check up on you later Fiancee!” Kim chirps dramatically and Kagami deffo gets a solid suckerpunch in at that. 

The two leave and with the door shut behind them they both share a nod and transform. 

“Okay let’s head out-”

“I should probably stay behind.” Cheshire interrupts. “Just in case. Don’t want them to kill Kim and Jagged Stone you know? Kagami’s a nightmare when she gets hit by these things. You didn’t fight her back when your dad got akumatized, but I did.”

Ladybug looks concerned, but after a beat she nods. “Okay, You’re probably right about that. Keep your communicator on in case we need backup though.”

“Of course.”

Ladybug jumps out the window nearby and grapples her way to the roof far faster than the rest of them have been. 

When she reaches the top it’s to Semmix in the middle of putting heartfelt King in a full nelson, as Bellflower carries Penny down to the ground safely. 

But before she can investigate him for his akuma object he answers it himself, barely able to reach Semmix with his hands in this position but is in fact able to press the screen of his phone to her face. The lightning arcs across her face and Semmix pulls away in pain, clutching at her still smoking cheek. Heartfelt King makes a dash for the civilians left in the roof--Juleka and Rose of course, and Ladybug slides between the three of them, aiming a solid kick to his chest to bounce him backward.

“Lucky Charm!” Falling into Ladybug’s hand is a ballpoint pen. 

“Oh come on- I thought we were past this…” She meets the King as he races back up to her, hyperfocused on getting at Juleka and Rose, he keeps tapping out onto his phone, clearly trying to get either of them, but they’d left their own phones back in the studio and the only tech up here was a few satellites and solar panels, they wobble about ominously, but they don’t move to help. 

As Ladybug is playing constant keepaway with Heartfelt King she looks about the lot of them. Semmix is still incapacitated by lightning to the face, Bellflower is in the middle of lifting Rose and Juleka up together, and at that Heartfelt King lets out a shout of frustraction and surges forward with his phone in Ladybug’s face, trying to do the same to her that he did to Semmix. Ladybug catches the phone in her hand and takes the bolt of electricity up her arm with a grunt of pain. But that does give Heartful King an opening and he darts around her, making a break for Bellflower and the girls.

Bellflower gives out a light ‘oop’! And drops. 

Heartful King runs over to the side of the building and with both of Bellflower’s arms full she seems in a bit of a pickle. 

“Hey Rose, see that pocket in my skirt? There’s a little box of magic Macarons in there can you grab me the orange one and just pop that sucker in-?” Suddenly Bellflower has a mouthful of macaron. “‘Fank yu-” she mumbles as she swallows, and sure enough the sky potion activates and a pair of translucent yellow bee wings spring out, catching the wind as the three of them now descend at a less deadly pace. 

“Alright ladies, get the hell out of here and we’ll get your boyfriend back to normal before you can say ‘there’s nothing wrong with polyamory as long as all parties are consenting to it’” 

Rose stifles a laugh and Juleka’s eyes (or eye) widen “Is… it that obvious?”

“He’s been talking about you BOTH being ‘his loves’ all day from what my sources tell me.” Bellflower winks. Juleka’s face turns red and Rose covers her head with her arms. Both clearly embarrassed.

“Now get outta here!” sure enough the two nod and run off. Bellflower springs back into the air on the buzzing Sky potion wings and once she’s back up Heartfelt King and Ladybug are at hand to hand again, though Ladybug’s keeping an arm close to her chest. 

“You got anything?”

Ladybug looks over at Bellflower, and her Plan vision comes to fore, highlighting the Trompo, the pen, one of the satellites, and Semmix’s umbrella. 

“Actually, yeah. But I’m gonna need-” She pushes Heartfelt King away and pulls out her own box of Macarons. “Never used the heat proofer before, but I need some better insulation-”

“Wouldn’t that be the Thundra potion?”

“No, electrical burns are still burns, I need to keep the energy from hitting me, not keep energy in.” She takes a big bite of the red Macaron and the Fire potion zips down her suit. “Kay get ready with Swarm, Bell.” She darts passed Heartfelt King, sliding until she grabs Semmix’s umbrella and then making a break for one of the satellites. 

“Hey Your Kinglyness! If you hit this satellite head on your magic pulse could probably spread across the whole city over the soundwaves!” 

“Oh?” Heartfelt King looks over with a lifted brow. “That-... That’s very true! I would need to use both the wave and the shock at once to make it work but it’s doable!” His grin brightens. “Why thank you Ladybug! I knew someone here must understand the necessity!” A butterfly halo lights up over his face. “...What? No but it’s a lovely idea!... Well maybe but if I don’t TRY!... Oh very well- I suppose I’m fine!” He finally shouts at Ladybug. “Miss Monarcha is telling me this is probably a trap!” 

“Well are you really gonna let Monarcha tell you what to do? You’re a KING!” 

“And you rigged up your Lucky Charm into the wires to try and redirect my lightning back onto me once I summon it! Using Semmix’s umbrella as an insulator that will disengage when you click the pen and break the circuit you set up!”

Hard cut to the contraption Ladybug had pulled together, and sure enough that’s exactly what’s lined up.

“...Hard to argue with that. BELL NOW”

“SWARM! Blind him!” the swarm of bees zips out and piles around Heartfelt King’s head, he swipes at them to no avail and Bellflower walks up casually to take his phone from his hand, easily snapping it in half.

“Using the Lucky Charm plan as a red herring was genius LB!” Bellflower calls out, just as Ladybug purifies the Akuma.

“Thanks! I was watching Roi Singe do his thing and it reminded me that the best distractions are the weirdest. Miraculous Ladybug!”

We watch the Ladybugs sweep the land, healing up Semmix, untangling the wires on the rooftop, and back down in the studio swarm across our three compromised heroes and Jagged Stone’s injuries. 

Jagged laughs good naturedly as Luka pulls off of him, horrified.”How you doing Monkey man?”

Roi Singe, healed of bruises but still a bit wobbly on his feet is helped up by a meek looking Adrien, and red faced Kagami. “I’m great! I’m never in on any ‘I know who you like’ secrets! Now I'm in on like...three!”

We cut away before Kim gets murdered but for realsies this time 

 Specifically we cut to Rose and Juleka watching the Ladybugs pass over the building, they both share a grin and re-enter through the lobby, going the slow process of the stairs back to the rooftop. And sure enough when they arrive Ali is apologizing to Semmix, who looks a bit frustrated at being taken out of the fight but is waving him off easily.

“Ali!”

“Hey Ali…” Ali darts upward and looks at the two of them, before his face turns bright red and he covers it with his hands as though trying to hide. 

Rose quickly runs up to him though, Juleka following behind at a more sedate pace. “Are you alright? Getting Akumatized is a bit of a doozy-”

“I’ve done it twice and it did not get easier.” Juleka agrees. 

“I’m terribly sorry for acting so horrid! And for letting that Monarcha get hold of me in the first place!” 

“Ali it’s not an issue.” Juleka waves him off  “I ACTUALLY hurt Rose on my second Akumatization if you guys keep saying I’m not allowed to feel guilty for what I did while I was Butterfly-possessed then you’re not allowed to feel upset for trying to go public with… well with ‘us’”

“I tried to get all three of us married before we even knew you Ali, we’re not holding anyone responsible for what they do as an Akuma, you know that. You don’t HAVE to apologize.”

“Well I’m going to anyway! Please let me make it up to you both! We still have some time before my free day ends, we should go out! On a REAL date!”

Honestly it's just cute as Ali takes either of their hands and starts to tow the two girls away. 

Ladybug smiles slightly before looking off to the side. “So… Did we ever decide whether he was just making random ‘fall in love’ magic or-”

“Guess we’ll find out.” Bellflower shrugs. “Why, what happened to you?”

“...Sorry Bell, but I don’t think I should say.”

“GOD can we STOP with the dumb romance drama!?” Semmix finally shouts. “I’m gonna BARF over here!”

We do a very very quick cut of the base, to see Kim sitting on the lumpy couch, Luka leaned against the wall beside him, face red, Chloe on the other side of the couch, equally red. 

“I know who you like~”

Chloe rams a pillow onto his head.

Then we pan over to see Alya, freshly napped and back to work, glaring at Marinette.

“They got hit with a CUPID BEAM and BOTH confessed their LOVE for you and you’re telling me you’re still thinking you’re a third wheel!?”

Nino’s grumbling while cross legged on the floor beside Alya, saying something that sounds similar to ‘I can’t believe I missed this I can’t BELIEVE I missed this’ 

“I just-! They were perfectly happy before all of this! What if I'm the problem?! Maybe I need to step aside from all of this and just let the two of them be happy together!”

“Well do you still love Adrien?”

“.....”

“MARINETTE”

“He loves Kagami!”

“And what about Kagami? Would you date her?”

“Th- That doesn’t have anything to do with it!”

“GIRL-”

“OKAY FINE! But That doesn’t matter because neither of them probably know that this kinda stuff is even a thing! Alya you said you wouldn’t push-!”

Alya huffs a sigh “I’m not, i’m not. Just… Marinette, you're my best friend, and I want to see you happy. And THEY make you happy. Not just Adrien, not just Kagami. And I think you make THEM happy, too. I really do.” Alya grabs Marinette’s hands and gives her a squeeze. “Now come on, help me with tacking up this historical record?”

We cut back to Agreste Manor, just briefly, just to see Gabriel in the lair, hand pressed up against Emilie’s pod. 

“I thought you said you’d be watching my back, no matter who had what Miraculous.” Nathalie’s voice cuts in, terse. upset. 

“I prefer to pick my monsters myself rather than let the Akuma themself decide, that’s why so many of the sentimonsters of yours went rogue as Le Paon. just because I didn’t make it to the building before your Akuma was defeated didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You’re SUCH a coward! You just don’t want to go into the fight anymore because you’re terrified of facing Adrien again!”

“ And you’re alright with it? I thought you went INTO this for Adrien-”

“If I saw Adrien in the field I’d be trying to get him to SEE REASON! Not just run away scared! You know, I’m starting to get the feeling you’re not even fighting for this anymore!” 

“What are you trying to say Nathalie?”

“I’m saying maybe The Old Order has a point about this ‘war’ angle. Does it really matter? We’ve been promised Adrien’s safety and if they were going to double cross us they would have by now. Why are YOU still so hostile toward all of them? They’ve done nothing but help us!”

“Oh sure after they’ve gotten free access to all our resources, free run of the house, access to all our information, and they probably ALREADY would have fixed Duusuu’s pin without us asking it of them!”

“God you’re so IMPOSSIBLE! No one’s ever allowed to just want to HELP, are they? Well you may have been keeping them at arm's length but I’VE been learning from them and they’ve got SO much more to offer than we ever thought! And you can either accept that, and LEARN from it! Or I’m bringing back Emilie on my own and you’ll have to face your wife and tell her you backed off at the last second because you couldn’t accept help.”

“Nathalie-”

“No- I’m done Gabriel. I’m going to go upstairs and LEARN some things from our ALLIES. You can do whatever the hell you want because clearly ‘having my back’ isn’t on the priority list anymore.”

His hand tightens into a fist as Nathalie leaves. 

“Duusuu..?”

“Yes M. Gabriel?”

“....Do you think we may have ended up on the wrong side?”