#her real name isn’t actually that but people kept calling her a rat. so

[cloudbattrolls]

It started off as a joke in the FL chat but I’m deadass tempted to make a troll called “Rattus” Faberr and she’s the scrungliest looking wererat girl you’ve ever seen.

A thief, but usually not of valuable objects; she steals whatever she thinks would be useful for her projects.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Mira protection squad rise up….dw just pull out the picture of Karasu in your wallet and just say ummm I’ve got a bf..!! /j but fr stay safe!!! It’s crazy how this still happens everywhere like leave people alone!!!

I’m crying the word count alone still has me REELING like omg….guys this is not a fic atp this could be a whole novel….

Ok wait but continuing I forgot to mention this is such a minor thing but THE TAJ MAHAL OUT OF HAIR??? I did not need that visual either oh my god

And not to worry! I turned back pretty fast I’d only gotten to the part where Karasu calls to talk about being captain and then I was really like ummm wait a minute….so all good!!! I fr was piecing together the story up till that point like “oooh ok in college….ok somehow we made a deal with Karasu got it…” LMAO my fault for running to read without actually reading properly before I started the actual fic portion!!

Ugh baby Karasu is so squishy…I can just imagine pinching his cheeks shdgsjshs speaking of that line where y/n is walking with him after his first game as captain and she compares his baby face to his current face “all angles and gloom and doom” LMAOOO ok but that swimming scene>>>> their bond >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

YAYOYUKI guys it’s just the quadruple Y ship Y to the fourth power LMAO I’m imagining yuki in that meme reaction pic with the person with their arms in the area and their chains breaking LMAOOO

NO IT WORKED SOOOO WELL!!! Honestly I think you’re the master of this like writing characters in love but they don’t know they’re actually in love yet…so good….chefs kiss…..but omg yeah with Aoyama!!! I loved how that was in the story too and you could feel the difference between their relationships!! I’m ngl though I’m not even deep in the fandom or even content in general but whenever I read Aoyama I kept thinking of the dude from mha LMAOOOO I know Aoyama isn’t a super u bc Lemmon last name but that was the first face that popped into my mind shsgsgshsh

The bfb sisters >>>>> ok but so real kaneshiro PLEASE give us NAMES this just reminds me of Barou’s LN too where his sisters are literally referred to as “the 1 year old” and “the 0 year old” like BRO JUST GIVE THEM NAMES!!!! I do really enjoy how we get to see both sides though!!! Like both being friends with the younger and older sister, very refreshing getting to read about both sides!!

NO BECAUSE I ALMOST SCREAMED HAHAHA like bro carried you to your apartment in the middle of the night, gave you water and food, cleaned you up and REMOVED YOUR MAKEUP and oops, to the streets he goes /hj….I also thought y/n hitting otoya up to ring her in was funny LOL I honestly live for the little interactions with other characters I love how it builds a whole little universe within the fic world!

Where would Karasu nation be without you…and OMG MORE KARASU REQS??? Guys Karasu nation is GROWING all thanks to you o7 gotta take a Karasu intermission LMAO but speaking of if there’s anything in the Hiori LN you want reinterpreted…don’t be shy..LOL I had it TLd but I think the wording needs some refining because it was definitely clunkier than the ones I did recently LMAO

Oooo omg plane ride again!! Manifesting no motion sickness to the airport..!!!! And no we knew in our hearts that you were cooking in silence….we trust….

-Karasu anon

LMAOOO WHIPPING OUT A BADLY EDITED PHOTO OF ME NEXT TO KARASU LIKE “so sorry but i’m actually married 🙄 yeah it’s a committed relationship so go away 🥱” JFJDJS i’m dead 😭 nah fr i don’t understand how it’s such a problem STILL but oh well 😐

apparently according to google a novel is anything above 40k words SO TECHNICALLY i did write an entire novel abt karasu based on a song from victorious 😭 that is the most ridiculous sentence i think i’ve ever formulated JFKSJFJSK what even…it’s what my man deserves though 💖

OH MY GOD THE TAJ MAHAL OUT OF HAIR it was actually a reference to this disney xd show that my brother, my best friend, and i watched as kids called lab rats and at one point one of the characters makes a “buckinghair palace” and is planning on making a “taj mahair” it was a very random reference LMAOAOA but i like throwing things in like that to make the world seem richer?? like i could’ve just had otoya say that his sister had a bad roommate but adding in that specific (and gross) detail just made it seem like there’s things going on in the background even when the reader isn’t there if that makes sense

LMAOO i can fr see how that would be confusing 😭 the 41.6k words really got to you huh 😰

HAHAHA no but y/n is so real for that because imagine you’re used to adorable squishy baby karasu and then all of a sudden BAM he’s all chiseled and gorgeous?? but you’re “not attracted” to him because he’s “like your brother” so you can’t even appreciate that part 😩💔

PLSSS yayoyuki my otp all those y’s mean they’re meant for each other 🤩 LMAOOO yukimiya breathing a sigh of relief that he’s actually chill for once

AHHH YESSS MY FAV TROPE i love when characters don’t understand their feelings it’s truly so much fun because it’s such a good way to create tension without feeling forced or annoying…yesss the way y/n and aoyama are chill but you can FEEL how she doesn’t love him but then her with karasu even though she doesn’t realize it the love they share just seeps into every interaction they have 🥹 PLSSS icl i know nothing abt mha and would prefer to keep it that way 😰 to be honest i just went on the japanese census and picked one of the earlier names on the list which happened to be aoyama (because it starts with an a i suppose)…no reference intended there

kaneshiro so allergic to women he won’t even give them names 😔💔 literally the only girls with names are isagi and bachira’s moms + anri 😭 i can never write a bllk fic without ocs because i NEED female friendships in my stories!! and agreed that it was rlly fun to see the difference in liking your friend’s older brother versus the younger brother as there are different associated stigmas and whatnot that come about from it

KARASU SAID “right let me just be the ideal bf real quick” AND GOT THE BOOT FOR IT 🥲 i can’t even blame him for kissing her/confessing at that point because wdym he went through all of that and then told you he’d never had a girlfriend because he was in love with someone who’d never love him back and you have the audacity to say “damn who would ever say no to you??” 😭⁉️ he’s more patient than me fr…okay but lowkey it’s so funny to me that he saw y/n when he was four years old and he IMMEDIATELY locked tf in…like THAT was the ONLY GIRL he wanted from that moment on 😩

otoya was so much fun to write in this au 😭 like the way he’s so nonchalant and all…he knows exactly what’s going on because he’s good w girls but he has 0 interest in getting involved because he needs to protect his peace!! like i said w the taj mahal thing i love throwing in little moments that make it seem like the characters all have their own lives separate from the plot…for example the “crazy girl” from otoya’s group project that he mentions very easily could be a love interest for him if you think abt it ☝🏻 like “crazy girl” just wants a good grade and slacker otoya thinks he can flirt his way out of doing any work but she’s having NONE of it and they end up falling in love based on that?? can you imagine he’s like two minutes late to the meeting and she’s like “where were you 😐” and he’s like “my roommate’s older sister’s best friend was showing me where to get non-keurig coffee” and she doesn’t even believe him because she’s heard many dumbass excuses in her life and that is the worst one yet 😭 idk that’s just a random example but it’s just fun for me to throw in those random little threads!! i think like you said it really helps to build a universe within the story and make the plot as well as all of the characters feel more whole and well rounded as opposed to flat and one dimensional 🤩

at this point i think i’m basically a karasu account LMAOO nobody remembers my roots as a nagi fan anymore 😟 yes i have a couple of reqs for him which is rlly exciting!! eek i’ve been having trouble getting into the hiori mindset but i NEED TO because those two reqs are from my 500 follower milestone event which was ages agooo like they’re literally from JUNE 😭 ugh trust i will cook when i get the chance though!!

YESS PRAYING NO MOTION SICKNESS!! we still have a little less than a week left before we leave so going to relax and enjoy the vibes but tbh i am excited to return to america…the glorious land of ubiquitous air conditioning and everyone wearing deodorant…LMAO 😭🙏🏻

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 11: Playing the Game

AN: I hope y'all enjoy this non-stop flirt-a-thon, chapter count got increased again, so we'll get back to the plot in the next chapter!

At first, Marinette didn’t know how to act. This was the last route she expected Damian to take. The shock of Damian’s lips against hers turned her body rigid; hands splayed out to the sides, unsure of where to touch. After a second of floundering, she gained enough bearing to place her hands firmly on Damian’s arms. Her once still lips hesitantly moving against his. The closed-mouth kiss stayed chaste, but Marinette found herself fluttering her eyes closed, sinking into the warmth.

Damian stood taller than her, bending into the kiss while she craned her neck. Marinette pushed herself upward, arching onto the tips of her toes, and Damian’s hands wrapped tighter around her waist, deepening the kiss. She readjusted her mouth for a second grabbing a quick gasp of air before diving in again with more fervor. Damian responded in kind, pushing her back fully against the wall, one hand migrating from her waist to cup her cheek.

Damn. Damian was a good kisser.

“What the- Hey, customers are not allowed to be in here!”

Oh, right. The employee. That’s why they were kissing.

Why would kissing be helpful in this situation?

Not that Marinette was complaining, but-

Damian pulled away from her, and Marinette held back a pitiful whine when he turned away and faced the employee.

‘Bad thoughts, Marinette,’ she chided herself. ‘Focus on the mission, not Damian, or his lips, or his eyes, or-’

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” said Damian with a bashful smile.

Wait…

Blink.

What?

Marinette dragged herself out of the kiss-induced bliss, focusing on her co-conspirator, and had she been less in control of herself her jaw would have dropped.

Damian’s whole demeanor had markedly changed. His normal sharp posture sunk into a causal slouch; the emotions on his face, generally a mix of sharp observation or practiced disdain, now a mix of charming elegance and, yes, bashfulness. He flashed a wide grin at the oncoming employee, a person in their early twenties, who froze when they saw them.

Or rather, Damian.

Rapidly blinking bright blue eyes gazed at them. “Oh, oh you- you’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know who I am,” said Damian, rubbing the back of his neck. Even the way he spoke changed; careful pronunciation and formality thrown out the window for a lax New Jersian drawl. “What’s your name?” He asked with such a genuine smile, had Marinette not been versed in people lying through their teeth, she would have bought it.

Not for the first time, Marinette wondered how famous Damian’s family was – obviously rich enough, and high profile enough - to be recognized on the spot.

The person paused for a moment, fiddling with a strand of curly blond hair. “I’m- I’m ah… Fey, nice to meet you Mr.-”

Damian cut them off with a laugh. “Oh please, any name with a mister makes me think of my father or my older brother. Call me Dami.” He offered a hand to the flustered Fey. They limply shook it.

“Oh… ah- alright Dami.”

Damian encircled a hand around Marinette’s waist dragging her out of the weirdness induced fugue state she’d fallen into. “And this… well,” he lowered his eyes, catching her attention and winked. “This is my girlfriend Marinette.”

Fuck, this is what he meant by play along.

Fey dropped open their mouth before closing it quickly.

“Oh, I hadn’t read-”

Damian cut the flustered employee off again.

“We’ve kept it quiet.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The papers would devour a story like this,” he said, with a sense of vapid annoyance, although a trace of his normal calculated disdain accented his words.

Note to self; Damian didn’t like the media. Good, Marinette didn’t much like the invasive vultures either.

Fey nodded along, twirling a lock of hair on their finger. “Oh yeah, that totally makes sense.” They paused shaking their head to clear away an emotion… awe? Fear? Marinette couldn’t tell. “But uh, why are you here? Like in the stairwell, not in the store. Because of course celebrities would still shop, right? I mean-” Poor Fey was a stuttering mess. Marinette almost felt bad for them.

She felt like an absolute stuttering mess too, but she would be damned if Damian would carry this lie all by himself.

She was fucking Ladybug; savior of Paris, Guardian of the Miraculous.

She could act like a lovestruck fool.

“It iz so sweet,” she said, emphasizing her accent to add a little more pageantry to this entire scheme. “I just arrived back from Paris, and wanted to decorate my new apartment with ze ah-” she waved her hands around, “Oh, how you Americans put it? Fairy lights?”

Fey nodded quickly. “Yeah, we have a couple of good selections, but-” Marinette continued before they could logic their way out of the made-up cover story.

“I planned to go by myself, but Dami-” at this she moved forward to wrap her arms around his, leaning into his side. The warmth of his body bleeding through his clothes. “He insisted on ‘companying me even though he dozen’t like ze crowds.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “He gets grumpy,” she divulged with a girlish giggle. Why Damian did a 180 on his personality was a complete mystery, but if he dropped the act, this would make Fey less suspicious.

Fey nodded right along like Marinette’s comment made total sense. “Yeah, I don’t read too many magazines, but damn they must pin you all wrong,” they said to Damian. From Marinette’s position at his side, she felt his body tense the slightest amount. “Gotham’s Ice Prince, yeah right.”

Marinette inwardly quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ice Prince, huh?’ The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before.

Damian nervously chuckled again, sounding more authentic this time. “Oh no, I’m a grump when it comes to the media, I fully admit. My, ah,” he looked at her again, an apology flashing in his green eyes. “Angel here puts me in a better mood.”

A rushing noise filled Marinette’s ears, and her heart quickened. She vaguely registered a squeal of delight coming from Fey, but it sounded far away compared to her blood pounding at a thunderous level. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and the confident smile she plastered on her face almost dropped at the pet name.

Angel.

He called her angel.

What level of utter insanity had she dropped into?

“A few disguises later,” Damian continued, adjusting the glasses on his face, and oblivious of the turmoil he’d created in Marinette’s mind. “I thought we’d be able to stay under the radar, I just wanted a day out with my girlfriend,” he said with a put-upon sigh. The emotional, charming actions stood in complete opposite to Damian’s normal demeanor.

Marinette found herself desperately torn between breaking down laughing hysterically or clapping at Damian’s masterful performance.

“You got noticed?” asked Fey.

“We got noticed.” Damian sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Marinette regretted not touching it while she and Damian kissed; was it as fluffy as it looked? “And Marinette, the sweet angel she is, isn’t used to the whole utter insanity of… you know, dating a celebrity.” He glanced at her, teasing her with a fonder smirk than his usual. Marinette wanted to roll her eyes. Damian had no clue she knew very well the consequences of dating a celebrity.

Never mind she’d only dated Adrian a month before they broke up because his dad turned out to be a psychopathic supervillain intent on plunging the whole of France into an apocalyptic hellscape in an attempt to upset the universes’ balance, and was fully okay with killing the both of them to make it happen.

Being friends after that little debacle was the better option. For both their sanities.

‘Focus Marinette.’ She dragged her attention back to the conversation.

“We kinda ducked in here when nobody was paying attention. I want to keep this away from the media as long as possible, for my angel’s privacy.” Marinette wanted to scoff at how Damian leaned into that nickname. He certainly was laying it on thick. Marinette wouldn’t have bought the act, but that was due to her years of lying and deceiving in the name of super-heroics.

Fey, with their eager demeanor and bright blue eyes, didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh, that’s awful people wouldn’t leave you alone. I bet most celebrities would be familiar with the attention, but for you to look out for Marinette too?” They whistled. “Damn girl, he’s a keeper for sure.”

The blush gracing Marinette’s cheeks was 100% real. “Oh, well, ah, zank you. I know.”

“Well, no one will hear a word from me,” Fey promised. They fiddled with their hands and sent a shy smile at Damian. Marinette’s stomach clenched at the sight, and without her permission, her traitorous hands tightened their grip on Damian’s arm. “Without your family’s scholarship, my sister never would have graduated med school. She would kill me if I even thought of ratting you out to the papers.”

“Oh…” said Damian, his outward appearance of shock mirroring Marinette’s own internal emotions.

‘His family is rich enough to fund medical scholarships?’

“Well, that’s not on me directly, you know,” he commented. “All my father’s doing. I hope- ah… I hope she’s doing well?” Although his face portrayed a bashful and relaxed air, his body language screamed uncomfortableness. Marinette released one hand from his arm and brought it to rest on the small of his back, circling her thumb around. He relaxed, slightly, and Marinette smiled.

“Yeah, actually she is,” said Fey beaming. “She’s working at the new pediatric clinic that opened in Crime Alley.”

“Good for her,” said Damian honestly. “We need more people willing to work to make the city a better place. Money can only do so much.”

“Money definitely helps though,” Fey replied, wryly. Marinette agreed. Long-buried memories of her early years arose. Living above her parents’ shop, where every month they spread their bills across the kitchen table and talked in hushed tones while Marinette sat on the steps to her attic room and worried, even if at five and six she didn’t know what she was worried about.

Those days were long gone. Her parents and their creations internationally famous, with three separate locations across the greater Paris metro alone. But that worry never really went away.

Fey shifted on their feet reading their watch. “Well, you guys stay here if you want until whatever crowd out there loses interest.” They gestured to the door Marinette and Damian entered through. “Or you can come with me if you want?” Pointing to the other locked door. “I’m heading out to the atrium to deal with a problem, but you can continue on with your shopping.”

“Zank you so much,” Marinette replied. “We will go with you if you do not mind?”

“Of course not,” said Fey, walking to the door and pulling out a security key. They opened the door, but Damian held it allowing Marinette and Fey to walk through before he followed. Placing a hand once more around Marinette’s waist.

“What problem in the atrium, if you don’t mind me asking?” he prodded, sharing a look with Marinette.

It could be nothing, but it could also have something to do with his brothers.

Considering their luck today, Marinette would be shocked if it wasn’t the latter option.

“Oh, well it started with the children’s center shutting down. Apparently, the kids got it in their minds to start a dodge ball fight with the workers. Which, you know, totally fair,” confided Fey, as they walked through the back corridors. “Sounded like it was a blast to watch. I was such a shit when I was a kid, I would have joined them in a heartbeat. It wrapped up fairly quickly, but they can’t convince the main instigator to descend from the jungle gym. I think they’re still hunting down her parents.”

Marinette pursed her lips trying to hold back a smile. ‘Oh, Abby,’ she thought, ‘you absolute gem.’

“I only heard about it from Lisa when I got back because I was dealing with a security issue in the back lot.” Fey glanced at them nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong, we’re perfectly safe.”

Marinette and Damian shared a look.

Jason.

“Of course,” said Marinette.

Followed by a quick, “Absolutely,” from Damian.

Fey relaxed. “So this is, apparently, a whole bunch of workers on strike? They walked out of the back warehouse and congregated in the atrium, spouting on about living wages and corrupt big business, and the effects of verbal abuse in the workplace.” Fey said with a wave of their arms. “And it’s not like I don’t agree, because I do. Jerry, the warehouse general manager, is an asshole.” Marinette and Damian exchange worried glances at the rotund angry man’s name, who they last saw dragging a singed Tim into an office.

“…but it makes my job hard,” whined Fey, oblivious to their compatriot’s inner panic. “And the Starbucks baristas joined them, so their kiosk closed too.” Fey chuckled, “I would avoid the whole area if I were you, especially if you don’t want anyone finding out you’re together.”

“I wonder how zat ended up happening?” Marinette asked hopefully her high-pitched voice conveyed confusion instead of slowly settling in panic.

“They called in saying some guy lead the charge, he’s worked the crowd into a fervor. I’m there to be the HR rep while security tries to remove him. You know, normally my job involves sitting at a desk all day listening to bitchy customers on the phone. I’ve dealt with more in-store problems today since last Black Friday.” Fey chuckled. “What a day, ya’ know?”

Marinette glanced at Damian, his casual mask still firmly in place, although his left eye twitched, and the hand he wrapped around her waist, tightened at Fey’s words.

Fey finally reached another door, pulling out their pass and lead them out into the store’s main section.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Marinette, Dami,” Fey chirped. “Nobody will hear from me about any of this.” They mimed zipping their lips.

Marinette smiled, hoping the strain wasn’t too noticeable. “It waz nice to meet you too Fey.”

“Good luck with whatever is happening in the atrium,” said Damian. They stood at the door and watched them move out of sight. When Fey finally disappeared around a corner, Damian turned to Marinette his casual persona rippling away as if it never existed at all. His hand slipped off her waist.

She did not, absolutely not, want to grab it and put it back thank you very much.

“How much do you wish to wager on Drake’s involvement in whatever is occurring in the atrium?” he asked. Marinette smiled, reassured at the return of his clipped and formal tone. The informal speech felt wrong coming from Damian’s mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know Dami?” she teased. Then again, she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by her. “I don’t think I have enough money for that bet with you.”

Damian closed his eyes with a grimace and sigh. “Do not call me that.” He opened his eyes, an expression just short of pleading radiated from them “Please.”

“I would rather gag, and it sounds so would you.” Marinette covered her grin with her hand, unable to stop a slight giggle at the man’s long-suffering tone. “You pulled off vapid lovesick celebrity well, but why the need to act at all?”

“I have plenty of reference to draw from,” he grumbled, piquing Marinette’s interest; every half aside comment enticing her to dig further at Damian’s life. “I needed whoever descended those steps on our side and my normal... demeanor tends to put people off.” He folded his hands behind his back, a perfect picture of casualness, but the tightness around his eyes and the twitch of his mouth was all Marinette needed to note his self-consciousness.

“Well, I for one find your usual self charming,” Marinette admitted, pleased when Damian relaxed at her words. “You freaked me out acting that weird.”

“It is not an option I use often,” Damian admitted. “My brothers tend to make big productions of themselves. I prefer a far subtler approach, but this required more theatrics to make it believable.” He glanced at her. “I hope…” he paused. She watched his hand flutter and turn into a fist at his side. “I hope I did not overstep your bounds, that is, I mean violate your...” Damian refused to look at her, his gaze firmly planted on a far wall.

Marinette could let the poor man continue but ended up taking pity on him before he dug an even deeper hole. She placed a hand on his arm. “You were fine. If I didn’t want you… kissing me,” she said the words out loud for the first time, reigning in a pleasurable shudder at the memory. “I would have pushed you off, and if I felt violated, which I didn’t, you would have found yourself on the ground in plenty of pain.”

Damian dragged his gaze back to hers, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Undoubtedly, yes, you easily could have done so.”

Marinette smirked again, not willing to let the entire debacle slip away quite yet though. “Although I have to ask, where in the world did angel come from? And what on earth made you think it would be a good nickname for our fake relationship?”

Damian lifted his nose haughtily. “It is a perfectly acceptable name of affection for a significant other. What, did you wish for ‘sweetheart’ or ‘doll’?” he asked, drawing out those names with the earlier casual New Jersian accent. Marinette withheld a shiver at his low tone of voice curling those words around his tongue. She may prefer his normal speech, but damn he still sounded unbearably attractive when he dropped that low.

‘Focus, Marinette. FOCUS!’ she inwardly screamed at herself.

“Goodness no,” said Marinette, forcing a pretend shudder. “Something with more class perhaps? Darling, or beloved?”

Damian pursed his lips. “Not beloved. That’s what my mother refers to my father with.” Marinette winced, yeah, that could be awkward. Not that this whole conversation wasn’t a disaster plucked out of a fever dream. Why, why was she debating Damian on the finer points of affectionate nickname giving?

But her mouth continued talking. “Alright, I suppose angel isn’t bad in comparison. Still, it’s a bit cliché. What does that make you? A demon?”

Damian tilted his head with a shrug. “Tt. My brothers do call me that on occasion, yes.” Oh right, Jason called him demon-spawn a few times during their confrontation. With the way Damian rolled his eyes in annoyance, Marinette figured a story lurked behind that particular nickname.

“Regardless, we have strayed dangerously off-topic here. We should head towards the pandemonium in the atrium, yes?” Damian pushed off the wall he’d leaned against, and Marinette followed.

“I thought it was Panic at the Disco?” Marinette teased with a grin.

Damian pointed a finger at her, trying for a stern expression, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “You think yourself terribly clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’m adorable,” she shot back. “But I also think you’re right. It sounds like Tim managed to involve himself. If he’s making a scene, I bet he’ll draw the rest of your brothers there too.”

“You think Grayson will escape the clutches of that ravenous she-wolf?”

Marinette scoffed. “Damian, you’ll insult wolves with that comparison. I thought she resembled more of a hyena myself.” The woman certainly shrieked enough for it. “From what I saw, your brother probably ducked out at the first opportunity available to him.”

“True. Which leaves Todd, and nothing attracts his attention more than a spectacle. Especially when Drake stands chance to make a fool of himself.” Turning a corner they found themselves several yards away from the open-aired atrium. A crowd of people lingered around the railing looking into the courtyard below. Clapping and cheers fill the air.

“Shall we?” asked Marinette, excitement brewing in her chest.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” grumbled Damian. “But I suppose we must.”

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[bees--in-my--bones]

Sunset

Character: Natasha x gn!Reader (please note I did write this with a female reader in mind, so I'm sorry if there are unintentional biases but there were no pronouns or indications of gender at all)

Note: soulmate AU where you can only see color when you look at your soulmate for the first time. i hate to admit it, but i did get this idea from tiktok.

Warnings: canon typical violence, angst, major character death, no happy ending

Word Count: 1,859

A/N: This is my first fic ever! I'm actually really proud of how it turned out and I hope you like it and stick around for more! :)

You had never seen your partner.

It was just protocol. The nature of the missions you two worked, it was safer if you couldn't identify each other.

You had been near her, of course, and heard her voice whispering to you in the train station or over the phone. But you had never once laid eyes on her.

You were an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, and one of Natasha Romanoff's most important and most trusted contacts.

Over the years of working together, you two had become the closest of friends. Fury had no idea that you two were that close, but what Fury didn't know couldn’t hurt him. If it was any pair of spies operating at your level, a close personal relationship would be a problem, but you two were the best in your field, and more than capable of handling it.

It had taken a while for the two of you to talk, really talk, the extent of your interactions being whispered conversations back to back on a set of park benches, or a flash drive set subtly on a table next to an untouched coffee, but one day, probably the best day of your life, you had asked the question and she had answered.

Every phone call with her, you would ask the same question before hanging up.

"How are you doing, Nat?"

And every time, without fail, you would receive the same, gruff, "Fine."

She clearly wasn't one to talk about the touchy-feely stuff. Which was fine by you, you didn't open up often either, most spies you met didn't, but you still gave her that chance, every time.

Until one day, much to your surprise, she responded, "Not great."

It wasn't much, but it was something different. It was an invitation to keep talking. Containing your excitement at the change in conversation, you kept your voice steady. "What's the matter?"

She sighed, the sound crackling faintly over her phone's mic. "I'm back in a place I haven't been in for a long time."

You had no way of knowing exactly where she was- S.H.I.E.L.D took plenty of precautions to be sure of that- but you could make an educated guess. The information you had passed along to her a few days ago had been about a weapons smuggler currently in Russia.

"You know what?" she said, "I don't really want to talk about it. I'll check in with you when the mission's over."

"Natasha, wait!"

Silence from the other line, but she was still on the call.

"Let's just talk. About something else. I think we could both use some casual conversation."

She let out a small chuckle. "Sure, why not? This is a burner phone and I've got time to kill."

It was a bit awkward at first, but you soon fell into a natural conversation. That night you talked about many things. Small things, like favorite foods, and big things, like plans for the future if you ever left S.H.I.E.L.D.

That's when you learned that she couldn't see color.

You weren’t surprised. You couldn’t see color either. It wasn't uncommon for S.H.I.E.L.D to hire people who hadn't met their soulmate. It was a lonely job, and soulmates were a liability.

It was a small moment in your conversation and you continued talking about all sorts of other things late into the night.

Unfortunately, though, all good things must come to an end.

"I'll have to talk to you later, Nat. I've got a big job tomorrow I need to get ready for."

"Goodnight Y/N, and thank you."

"Let's make a habit out of this, okay?"

"Gotcha, Agent."

You smiled and hung up the phone.

From then on, you always lingered on calls. Never quite as long as that first call, but the two of you were quickly becoming each other's closest confidantes.

Soon you began talking in real life, too. You never turned to face each other, never broke that boundary, but you relished the feeling of her shoulder brushing yours as you watched the pigeons in a park.

You called each other before and after every job to check in on each other. You had drop spots outside of Fury's radar where you left each other small gifts. Your life was lonely and cold, but she gave your days warmth and light.

-----

Around a year and a half after your initial conversation, you met in a smokey French cafe, sitting in nearby booths.

“Nat.”

“Agent.”

“Whaddya got for me?”

“No intel on the current mission, but I’ve got news from HQ. Fury’s pulling us from the field.”

You felt your blood run cold. Spywork was dangerous, but it was what you knew. You were good at it. If you were fired, you would be thrown into suburbia with a fake name and fake past- maybe even fake memories, if Fury deemed you untrustworthy- and you would live the rest of your days out in the rat race.

And worst of all, you would live out the rest of your days without Natasha.

“What did we do?” you asked her, putting a massive amount of concentration into keeping your voice from betraying your panic.

“We did good,” she said, a smile in her voice. “We’ve been selected for an elite team to protect the entire world. You and I, Barton, and if we can convince them, Tony Stark, Steve Rodgers, and Bruce Banner.”

“That gamma radiation guy? Do we even know where he disappeared to?”

“We never lost tabs on him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me, Nat. I thought Fury had benched us.”

She laughed. “No, we’re still in the game for now. And when Fury gives the word, we’ll head back to New York and hang out like normal people for a change.”

“That would be nice,” you said, your voice quiet.

You heard her move around a bit, then swear. “I have to run," she said. "If I don’t make this drop Fury'll kill me.”

“I’ll talk to you later Nat,” you said. “Hopefully face to face.”

You waited for a response, but heard only silence. You turned and her booth was empty, like she had never been there.

------

"Hey there, Agent," came her warm voice over the receiver. You couldn't help but smile, remembering how cold her voice had been when you had first been partnered together.

"Hey there, Black Widow," you said, using the alias that some younger agents had been whispering behind her back.

“Very funny,” she laughed, “but I’m no Tony Stark. I don’t need a fancy code name.”

“You never know,” you said, your voice still light and teasing. “We should probably both come up with some cool code names for that team Fury was talking about. I think Black Widow suits you.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“No, it means you’re badass. How did your drop go?”

“Good,” she said. “Pretty standard, didn’t run into any problems. How are things on your end?”

“Not bad. I’ve got one thing to finish up this evening, and then I should be good to go. I’ll meet you at the airport at around 5:45 tonight?”

“I’ll be waiting for you, Agent.”

“I’ll be there, Black Widow.”

-----

You snuck around the corner of the warehouse. It was supposed to be one guy. Take him out, take down the whole operation, but apparently, the whole operation was being run out of here. You glanced at your watch. 5:42. Shit. You were gonna miss your flight. A guard passed by, and you froze in place.

You thought he hadn't seen you, but suddenly the sound of his footsteps stopped, then became louder as he ran back towards you, brandishing a weapon. Ducking under him, you grabbed the gun and twisted it away from you, and knocked him over the head with your own pistol.

Suddenly, a loud sound blared over the intercom. Shit. He had sounded the alarm.

You grabbed his gun and made a break for it.

-----

Natasha glanced anxiously at her watch. 5:50.

She glanced around nervously. You hadn’t answered a single one of her calls. She picked up her phone and dialed Nick Fury’s number.

“Fury? Yeah, I know I’m supposed to be getting on a plane, but Y/N isn’t here. Yes, I tried calling. No, Y/N told me 5:45. A good agent is not late, and Y/N is the best agent I know. Where was the mission at? I’m going in. Fury! Tell me now or so help me God... Thank you, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

She snapped her phone shut. You weren’t too far from where she was.

------

Natasha pulled up to a worn down warehouse with boarded on one side with a forest. Truck after truck pulled away from the building, and she grimaced as she realized what had happened. This was not a simple job like you had thought. Whatever operation you had infiltrated was now fleeing after being busted, and they were likely on shoot to kill orders.

Suddenly she saw you figure limping towards the woods, and before she even knew she had moved, she was racing towards you.

-----

Pain tore through you.

Your abdomen was on fire. You had been shot before, but this hurt. You struggled to get to the cover of the woods. Suddenly a firm hand was on you back, arms were cradling you, and lowering you down to the ground.

“Shh, don’t move,” came Natasha’s voice. “They aren’t worried about finding us, they’re too busy running.”

You looked into her face, making eye contact with your long-time partner for the first time ever, and the world exploded in color.

The grass and trees became vibrant with life, and you turned to look at the new world around you. When you turned back to look at Natasha, her eyes were filled with wonder.

“You hair…” you said weakly, your voice trailing off.

“They tell me it’s red,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Red,” you said, relishing the word on your lips, the feeling of knowing what it meant. “Red is my favorite.”

She smiled, but tears trailed down her face. “Shh, don’t talk. Save your energy, we’ll get you somewhere where they can fix you.”

Ignoring her, you shook your head. "I'm not gonna make it."

You reached up your hand to touch her face. She grabbed your hand and pressed it against her cheek. “I’m glad it was you Nat. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N”

She pressed a gentle kiss against your lips and cradled you against her chest.

“Look at the sky, Nat,” you said. “It’s beautiful.”

The sun was setting, and the myriad of brilliant colors spread over the horizon.

"As far as ways to go out," you said, "it could have been worse."

Nat said nothing, only held you tighter

The two of you sat like that until Natasha saw the sunset fade to black and white and the tears blurred her vision.

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

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you liked it! @love8loki here's one of the reader death stories I was talking about. thanks for your advice lol

[theshelbyclan]

Childhood Sweethearts

Summary: You and Finn had been together for a while now and it was all going great. The only problem was, all of the brothers didn’t know yet

A/N: Requested by a lovely anon: hey can i request a Finnxreader where Finn got her pregnant and her brothers come in the Garrison with guns and all and are like "We dont care who you. That you're a shelby, but you got her pregnant and you're gonna marry her" and than Finn has to explain to his bros that he is kinda dating her for a year and some fluff please??? I got so many requests for my baby Finn and I’m ignoring how they changed him in season 5. Hope you like it!

Words: 2605

***

When you’d first met Finn, he’d been boxing. You had only been fourteen at the time and he was only thirteen, but he was a Shelby, so there were expectations. “Call yourself a Shelby?” the owner had kept on shouting out at him. And you could see Finn was really trying, but he just wasn’t that type of Shelby. 

Your brothers were at the gym as well, which is why you were there. Women weren’t allowed, no exceptions. Well, except little sisters. You were let in when you came to pick them up and the youngest Shelby sister couldn’t be kept away, but apart from that, no women allowed.

And then it’d happened. Arthur went feral, everyone went crazy and Finn reacted like no one else could. And you watched him, calmly, but with interest. Afterwards, you handed him a towel. He suddenly looked young, not at all like he had seemed while fighting, and he’d said: “No women allowed.” You had smirked and replied, “Then go.” *** And so the two of you had become friends. First it had just been talking on the streets about brothers and life in general. Because if there was one thing the two of you had in common, it was the burden of having too many older brothers. While the Shelby’s had big plans with young Finn, yours seemed to want to keep you ‘sweet and innocent’ for as long as possible. Neither fit the pair of you really.

“What would you do?” Finn asked you one day, “You know, if you could do anything.” “Hmm…” you thought out loud, while trying to balance on some forgotten piece of scrap, “I could open a salon, or make ice-cream all day, or I could fly a hot-air balloon to Paris!” You were always the one making up stories and Finn would just sit there and listen. He was definitely the quiet one. In his world of chaos and violence, he could do with a bit of imagining. “I could buy a camel!” you laughed out loud, “Go to Egypt dressed as a man and raid one of the pyramids. I’d become the richest woman alive and no one would ever even know that it was all stolen, including my fake name.”

Finn grinned, “You’d probably get away with it too…” “Or, I could steal some expensive jewels and seduce the man guarding them,” you spun around a lantern post feigning seducing it, “I’d kiss him when he’d catch me and tell him I’ll split the profit with him. I’d say to meet me in Paris at midnight, but never show up. Then, years later, after I’ve come back from Mexico…” “Mexico?” Finn called out, enjoying this story way too much. “Mexico, obviously, where I’ve been hiding?” you replied with a face like it was obvious, “After Mexico, I’d go back to find this man and tell him to follow me. He would, of course, and I’d tell him to meet me in London. Then, and this is the best bit, I go back to Paris to get the jewels and blame it on him!” Finn grabbed your hand and spun you around, both laughing, “Y/N? Ever thought of becoming a Peaky Blinder?” “That!” you joked, “If I could do anything, I’d take over the Peaky Blinders and…” “Move to Mexico,” he finished. “Move to Mexico,” you said softly, because the two of you were suddenly no longer dancing. Standing closely, noses almost touching, you were, for the first time, lost for words. “Ask me,” Finn practically whispered. You raised your eyebrows slightly in question. “Ask me, Y/N,” he repeated, “What I would do if I could do anything.”

You indulged, “What would you do, Finn?” “I’d marry you.” “But we’re only fourteen,” you blushed a little. He was completely serious however. The two of you were always laughing and playing, but his eyes were no longer sparkling with childhood joy. Something else had settled in there, “Then I’ll wait, for now.” After that one evening, the two of you became inseparable. ***

Sneaking out at night was easy, especially after the two of you just watched how Ada did it. As you got older, your games of truth or dare became more and more dangerous. Late at night, you met in dangerous places and together, you grew up at midnight. Making love under the bridge, kissing quickly in the Garrison when no saw and holding hands under the table, it was all still a game to you. But the love, that was real, and it only kept on growing. How no one found out about it was a miracle and a tragedy at the same time. You’d grown up with five older brothers and a part of you now wondered if they even acknowledged your existence. Surely, you two were not that subtle? And besides, you had the horrible habit of talking too much and had often divulged a little, but they never picked up on it. Guess they were too busy with their own lives, which was just as well, because loving a Shelby was not a preferable situation. But sneaking off to secret rendezvous was easy, concealing love was also manageable, but hiding a belly with a baby inside of it? That was going to be hard. “They are literally going to kill me, Finn,” you sobbed. Why did you even sob? You never cried before. “Don’t worry,” he put his arms around you and spoke soft and lovingly, “They’ll kill me, not you.”

“That is not fucking helpful!” “I know,” he looked down, “Sorry…” The two of you were sitting in a closed Garrison. Luckily, the pub was never truly closed for a Shelby. Here you could find some peace at least and no one there to disturb you. “A baby though, Y/N,” you could see the sparkle in his eyes, “Our little baby!” You sighed deeply, “I don’t think you understand how serious this is.” “I don’t think you understand how wonderful this is!” “Finn…” “No,” he interrupted you, which he never ever did, “We made that.We did. Like, I loved you so much and you put up with me for so long and then this happened. Can you imagine? That’s amazing, isn’t it?” You couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness and excitement, “Someone did tell you where babies come from, right?” He smiled broadly and kissed you suddenly. “Finn?” you asked, a little unsure, “I think my mum knows I’m pregnant.” “How would she know?” “She knows these things,” you shrugged, “She had seven kids.” Finn frowned, “What do we do?” “Well, if she knows, we’ll find out soon enough.” You hadn’t even finished your sentence properly, when a loud noise came from the door of the Garrison and five big men walked in. They didn’t look pleased. “On your feet, boy!” one of them bellowed. Finn had no idea what to do, so he decided it would be best to get up.

“This him?” one of your brothers now turned to you.

You nodded solemnly, “This is indeed Finn Shelby.” Another asked, “This the one that knocked you up?”

“That’s a charming way of putting it…” you protested. “Well, how do you want us to put it?” “You could ask me if I’m alright?” you suggested, “Or: is this the boy of your dreams? Or: is this the man who will take you to Mexico? Or…” “Alright, we get the fucking idea, Y/N,” your eldest brother interrupted you, “No need to get poetic about it.” From the corner of your eye, you could see Finn had sat back down again. While you and your brothers continued arguing, he started downing whiskey. Did you blame him? Not really, what else was there for him to do but wait really.

And suddenly one of your brothers turned away from you and pointed at Finn, “Right, now I know you’re a Shelby and we know how you do things!” “Do things?” Finn genuinely didn’t understand. “You’ll not be taken our sister to some fucking doctor.” “Finn wouldn’t,” you quickly said, “He’s not like that.” Finn still didn’t understand though. “You don’t even know him,” your brother said, “Just because he fucked you…” “Oi!” Finn called out suddenly, lifting one hand to his cap. But your brothers were big and annoyed, so they picked Finn up like it was nothing and simply placed him outside the pub. If you weren’t pregnant and miserable, you could’ve died of laughter.

“Okay, listen…” you started, but they didn’t let you finish. Through the door they started shouting at Finn about taking responsibility and pretty soon you decided it was no use trying to get them to listen. So you rolled your eyes, sat back and waited for the storm to be over. And then there were more voices coming from outside the pub and you sat up to try and get a look at them. An angry voice seemed to be reprimanding Finn and a calm, low voice kept on interrupting the other. Without warning, the three oldest Shelby brothers barged in. Now, this was all you needed: more brothers in the room. There were eight now, all yelling, and slowly, you could see Finn moving back in through the door. You two exchanged glances, admitting defeat and decided to just wait.

“I don’t give a fuck who you people are…” one of your brothers was now actually screaming. “Let’s not play games, eh?” Tommy replied calmly, “You know exactly who we are.” “He will do the fucking right thing!” “And he will!” “That little rat may have thought he could just have his way with her and not carry the consequences...” “WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU CALLING A RAT…” Finn crept down next to you and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Should we tell them?” “How?” you mouthed back, “They’re kind of busy right now, wouldn’t you think?” “Let’s wait,” Finn suggested. So, the two of you got back to watching eight grown men bicker like small children.

“This was never her idea!” “Wasn’t Finn’s either, he doesn’t even know how to spell his own name, isn’t that right, Arthur!” “She’s nineteen! She’s just a child!” “She might be your sister, but she’s a grown woman.” “Okay, why the fuck are we talking about Y/N? Heis responsible and he is going to marry her.” “I agree,” Tommy suddenly said. So, Finn decided this was the best time to try again, “Actually, if you’d all listen for a second…” “I think you’ve done enough, mate,” one of your loudest brothers interrupted quickly. “But, me and Y/N…” Then Arthur was the one to push his little brother back in his seat, “Shut up Finn and let us handle this. Full of frustration, the youngest Shelby sat back down, only to stand back up again. He picked up another bottle of whiskey and started pacing the room a little. “Stay off the whiskey, Finn!” one of his brothers scolded, “Here, eat this,” and he handed him an apple. With eyes wide, he stared at the sudden piece of fruit in his hand and exclaimed, “I’m not a fucking child anymore, John.” But his brother just winked and said, “Apparently,” and went back to arguing. So Finn walked and bit his nails and paced and pondered and decided there was nothing left to do, but eat the apple and jump in the Cut.And you couldn’t help yourself. A small giggle escaped you mouth and soon after you could no longer contain yourself and burst out laughing. “What’s the matter with you?” Finn hissed. “Don’t know…” you hiccupped, “but by the time they’ve finished I’ve already given birth probably!” And out of nowhere, all the brothers fell silent. Tommy, as always, took the word, “Right, this is how we’ve decided to do it…” “You’vedecided?” you repeated angrily. “Shut up, Y/N, you’re in enough trouble as it is,” one of your brothers bit.

But the great Thomas Shelby held up a hand and silenced the room with a gesture, “We’ve decided that the two of you are getting married. Now, you might hardly now each other, but the damage is done, eh?” “Actually…” “Finn, shut up, I’m still talking. Now, don’t worry Y/N, Finn will take good care of you. And Finn, you do the deed, you pay the consequences. The marriage is in a fortnight. Congratulations.” The room went quiet again and all eyes were on the two of you. You could now actually taste blood and realised you’d been biting your lip to keep from laughing a little too hard. Finn looked like he was either going to explode or just disappear. Almost inaudible, he muttered, “In a fortnight…” “Yes,” his brother confirmed, “Gives you a chance to get to know your bride.” “I’VE KNOWN HER FOR FOUR FUCKING YEARS, TOM”

So he did explode. “EVER SINCE SHE WAS FOURTEEN AND I WAS THIRTEEN, WE’VE BEEN TOGETHER.” “Finn, babe,” you put a hand on his arm, “Calm down.” He turned to you, his eyes still hilariously wide, “Why the fuck do they never listen? Pinch me or something… can you even see me? Am I real? Am I a ghost?” So you did as any woman would and slapped him in the face, “Stop the dramatics. You’re here.” “Ask her,” one of his brothers urged him, “Ask her properly.” Finn sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, “I did ask her ABOUT FOUR YEARS AGO.” You nodded wisely, “He did.” “Well, what did she say?”

“That we were too young?” ‘Too fucking right!” one of your brothers shouted out. Within seconds, eight men were once again yelling without listening to each other, and the Garrison became chaos for a second time.

“Okay, wait!” you held up both hands and much to your surprise, everyone stopped talking. Guess there really was power in being pregnant, “This is good news, right? We both want to get married! Yay?” And then they all started again! New subjects for arguments were found in the fact that you’d been sneaking out, that they let their brother be with you, where the wedding would be and who with, and there seemed to be no end to it. So, Finn put the apple in his pocket and with a sudden certainty to it, grabbed you by the hand and marched you out the door of the Garrison. There, in the filthy streets of Small Heath, he kissed you long and deep. “How about it then?” he asked. You smiled back at this wonderful boy and said, “No, let me do it. You already got to do it when we were kids.” “Okay,” he agreed at once. “Finn, if you could do anything, what would you do?” “I’d marry you in a fortnight!” he almost shouted out. And you deeply into his eyes, wondering how you’d even managed to find such a soft, sweet and still strong man, and finally said, “Will you marry me?” “Yes,” he said almost before you could finish the question. After another long, long kiss he got this sudden twinkle in his eyes and suggested, “Let’s go home.” “Home?” you laughed.   “Yeah,” he pointed to the Garrison, “They’re all busy in there, right? The house is empty…” You looked down at your bulging stomach and joked, “Damage’s already done.”

Hand in hand you walked through the streets, feeling like the king and queen of Birmingham.

“Mexico then?” a small smile was tugging at his mouth now too. You nodded, feeling more in love than ever, “Mexico.”

*** Masterlist

[sevlgi]

aphrodisiac

requested: no

group: twice 

pairing: mina x fem!reader

genre: fluff, extremely mild and short angst

contents: witch!mina, love potions, college!au

warnings: none

synopsis: You’re broke and desperate, so you don’t think twice before taking a love potion that’ll make you fall in love with a mysteriously perfect girl. But maybe you should. 

a/n: hehe i like the idea of this!! i’m just not sure how well i executed it 🤔 happy valentines day, my loves ❤

word count: 6.0k

While everyone knew that working the 9-12 weekday shift at the campus bookstore was the worst job you could possibly get, you didn’t feel quite as exhilarated to have been laid off as you should have.

As the one who had suffered at the hand of old Mrs. Lee for almost the entire duration of your time on campus, you knew the torture better than most. So it was an understatement to say that you were exhilarated to be free of ironing book pages out and restocking the shelves at Mrs. Lee’s whims, that you were practically beaming when you got the email.

But on the other hand, it wasn’t like you had much money to spare, or like you had the ability to find another job in the crowded university. When you felt your wallet in your back pocket, completely empty save for a couple crinkled receipts, the grin faded from your face; after all, it would be even harder to survive without the aid of your measly salary.

So as you pinched together a couple quarters to buy yourself a consolatory iced chocolate, you found that being let go from the shittiest job in the world didn’t feel as triumphant as you had expected. Not when you were, once again, scouring the papers stabled to the lightposts around the campus for anything that offered a quick paycheck.

Well, almost anything.

“I will not.”

“Why?” Lisa was close to whining, though the pout that she directed fully at you did her no favors. “You said you needed to get paid.”

You sighed, “I said i needed to get paid, not launched in the air like a damn cannonball.”

Lisa scowled and tapped her fingers on her face, her hands still cupping her chin as she attempted to convince you. “Come on, the dance team’s willing to pay. It costs less to pay you than to get a dummy, so--”

“That’s not helping to convince me,” you warned. As desperate as you were, and as much as you liked Lisa and her fellow dancers, you definitely didn’t trust them not to launch you in the air and break your neck. “Are you sure that you don’t know about any other job offers? Anything that won’t murder me?”

She considered it, chewing on her bottom lip. You could feel other students eyeing where you sat, one of the only seats in the incredibly tiny boba shop, but you refused to budge until Lisa gave you an answer. “Oh! There is one I can think of, actually. You know the bio lab?”

“Yeah.” You watched her suspiciously, arms crossed. “I’ve been there a couple times. Why?”

“Well, it isn’t a normal bio lab,” Lisa mumbled, leaning in as if what she was about to tell you was the greatest secret in the world. “A lot of them are witches, you know.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t believe in witches, or the supernatural-- both had been proven to be true eons ago, and almost half of the students attending your university weren’t completely human. But you were still a little skeptical that the pretty and equally brilliant girls who ran the campus’s bio lab were... “Witches? Are you sure?”

“Why would I be lying?” Lisa rolled her eyes. “I’m friends with a couple of them, and I know that they’re doing an... experiment of sorts, and they need--”

“Lab rats,” you finished for the dancer. In all rationality, being a lab rat for a couple of young witches with access to a high-tech lab was probably worse than getting launched up in the air by a dance team, but when Lisa slid a flyer over and your eyes widened at the offered money, you instantly stood. “Take me.”

Lisa pouted but stood anyway, taking the flyer back to squint at the tiny scribbled building number. “I can’t believe you trust Mina more than you trust me.”

“Mina? Is that the name of the ‘witch’ I’m selling myself to?” you asked, slightly sarcastic but also slightly curious. At the dancer’s nod, you exhaled lightly and shoved your seat in just to watch the next people scramble for it, and hummed on your way out, “Then let’s meet this Mina.”

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that your entire school was close to dilapidated, but something about the bio lab was almost creepy as you approached it. Lisa had long since set off for the dance room (something about Seulgi breaking Ten’s ankle, she claimed), so you hesitated in front of the cloudy glass door alone. But the thought of the $600 dollars scrawled onto the flyer scrunched in your fist prompted you to push the doors open and step into the lab.

There was already a decent amount of people buzzing around inside; you recognized quite a few of them and nearly laughed at the amount of students willing to possibly be poisoned. But you took the nearest empty seat as someone appeared at the front of the room.

“Wow, this is a great turnout.”

The crowd chuckled lightly, and your eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of the girl standing at the front with papers in her hands. Honestly, she was the kind of girl that you imagined people wrote love songs about-- absolutely perfect without having to really do anything, elegant and soft in a way that still stood out. She smiled slightly and waved, eyes darting around the room. “Hi. I’m Mina, I’m part of the coven that sent out the flyers.”

You joined in the chorus of greetings, but your eyes stayed fixed on Mina at the front of the room. You could see several other girls lurking around in the shadows, probably the other members, though they kept beckoning Mina to speak on her own. “Um, I’ll just... explain the project to you,” she chuckled nervously, darting over to the computer.

Once a slide was displayed on the wall, she rushed back to the front and explained, “Being a potions-focused coven and also biology majors, we wanted to conduct an experiment. A love potion, or an aphrodisiac in scientific terms.”

Murmurs arose around you, and even your eyebrows scrunched together; as far as you knew, aphrodisiacs weren’t real, and if they were, they were probably illegal. In response, Mina raised her hands and her voice slightly to call out, “Hey, hey. It’s an experiment. We were originally planning to accept all of you, but... I think it’ll be hard to conduct an experiment with 50 people, so please fill out the form we pass out.”

And like that, Mina joined the rest of her friends in passing out the clipboards. You didn’t watch them, only scanned the lab for any signs that you were about to die, so when you were tapped on the shoulder, you almost fell off your stool. It was Mina herself, a slight pink tinting her pale skin as she held out one of the forms to you. “Uh. Thanks.” You accepted it with a bow of your head, staring down at the paper. It looked legitimate, with areas for your age, your height--

“What’s your name?”

In your haste to read over the paper, you hadn’t noticed that Mina hadn’t left. When you looked back up, you could feel heat burning at the tops of your ears, and you answered, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N, though you’ll read it on my application.”

“Oh. Of course. Thanks for coming, Y/N,” Mina mumbled, bowing before moving on to someone else. You noted that she didn’t ask for the name of anyone else, but you passed it off and turned back to the form. Since when did becoming a coven’s lab rat require your blood type, anyway?

After nearly a week, you had almost given up on being accepted into the experiment. But just 5 days after turning your form in, you got the text.

Unknown number [4:57]  Is this Y/N Y/L/N? My name is Mina, we met at the bio lab last week. I’m texting to tell you that you got accepted into the program; we’re meeting at the lab again at 9:00 tonight to discuss the experiment further.

You [5:00]   yeah, it’s me. i’ll be there.

It wasn’t like what you wore to the meeting mattered; all you were doing was being briefed on exactly what was about to happen to you. But all through your classes of the day, through your futile studying, you couldn’t keep your mind off the experiment that you had somehow been accepted into, and whether it was a good idea to go at all.

Suffice to say, you went.

“Y/N?” the girl at the entrance of the lab asked. You recognized her from the week before-- dark hair, bunny-toothed smile. “You are Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing,” she smiled. “We’re just taking roll, making sure everyone’s here. Take a seat inside, if you will.”

You obliged, nodding awkwardly before brushing past her. To your relief, the lab was nowhere as packed as it had been the week before, 7 people including yourself seated on the stools as the girls fiddled with test tubes in the back. One pair of eyes in particular lingered on you, before Mina was pulled back to talk, but your cheeks warmed nonetheless.

“Okay, everyone!” someone else announced, clapping her hands together. “My name’s Jihyo, I’m the head of the coven. This is Nayeon” -- the bunny-toothed girl from earlier waved-- “and Mina. We’ll be explaining the experiment to you today.”

She pulled the projector down and Nayeon stepped up, flashing a grin at all of you. “Basically, we made an aphrodisiac. And to test it, we’ll have all of you do the exact same things with the exact same person-- Mina.”

Mina stepped forward this time, and you couldn’t help smiling at the shy smile that tugged at her lips. “To keep conditions equal, you’ll all be going on the exact same 2 dates with me,” she explained. “I’ll take notes on how you act around me, and we’ll test how you feel about me at the very end. Any questions?”

The room was basically silent and honestly, you couldn’t see a downside to it either. Take a potion once and go on dates with a pretty girl, then get observed like a hamster on its wheel so you could get paid? A million times better than your old job. “Great,” Jihyo nodded. “Then, we’ll get started. If Y/N could be the first one? You’ll just go into a room with Mina to get interviewed and take your first dose.”

“Don’t die,” someone called out as you passed, and you flashed a glare despite not knowing who it was. Nayeon giggled as she opened the door for you and closed it behind you, leaving you in what you assumed to be a supply closet. Romantic.

“Hi,” Mina greeted softly, already seated across the table. “I’ll just ask you a series of questions, if that’s okay.”

“Go for it.”

“Rate how attracted you are to me on a scale from 1 to 10.”

Your jaw dropped immediately; for the first question, it was awfully invasive, especially when Mina voiced it with such a straight face. But you straightened your spine and answered stiffly, “9.” 

It should’ve been 10, but you weren’t trying to look like a literal creep; Mina only hummed and marked a circle on her form, moving on to ask, “Are you considering dating anyone else at the moment?”

“No.”

And in that manner, the questions passed decently quickly, with Mina asking them as flatly as possible and you answering them with the exact same tone. As soon as she set the clipboard aside, though, she returned to her original sweet state. “I’ll just have you swallow this now, if that’s okay.”

The test tube was cold to the touch when you uncapped it, and the liquid inside was suspiciously clear. But you barely gave it a passing glance before downing it like a shot, asking with narrowed eyes, “Is it supposed to taste like nothing?”

“Well, we figured that not everyone would like to taste tequila once a week with none of the good effects,” Mina chuckled and placed the empty test tube in its place.

“How fast will I see results?” you questioned as you stood. “Like, am I gonna wake up in a cold sweat tonight because I can’t handle how much I suddenly love you?”

The girl shook her head, though it was a bit hesitant. “I don’t believe so. It should only become more prominent once you see me more often. Which reminds me, I’ll text you about our first date as soon as I can. Thank you for participating, Y/N.”

You snatched your jacket up and stumbled your way out of the room as quickly as you could, hoping no one was looking as you closed the door behind you with a quivering pulse.

Despite the witch’s words, you were sure that the potion was already taking effect. Why else would your heart start to throb terribly as you looked at her smile? 

mina [8:16]  Hello Y/N! I was wondering if you had class today?

Mouth full of cheap cup ramen noodles, you stared at your phone screen. If Mina was asking you about your schedule, she had to have something planned (for the experiment, of course. You weren’t delusional). And you weren’t sure if you were mentally ready to see her shy smile again.

But when the thought of the $600 dollar check popped into your head, you reached for your phone and started to type again. 

You [8:19]  hey, mina. i don’t have class, actually, is this something about the experiment?

mina [8:20]  Yes! If possible, please meet me at the front of the school, we’ll be visiting the food trucks at the beach. I’ll pay!

Your stomach growled at the thought of the renowned food trucks at the beach by your university, and you typed out a hasty agreement before stuffing your phone into your bag and setting off for your apartment. There was no way you were enjoying such an opportunity for good food (and perfect company) in a slightly ramen-stained hoodie.

Thankfully, Mina didn’t seem to mind you being late when you approached her. “Hi, Y/N,” she smiled and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Hi,” you breathed. Well, at least you tried to-- you could barely remember how to function when faced with Mina in a slightly cropped red top, her hair tied up in a little ponytail. But you followed her down the street well enough, towards where you vaguely remembered a fleet of various food trucks to be. “So, have you already conducted this part of the experiment with everyone else?”

Mina shook her head and answered, “No, you’re the first. You took the dose first, so you’ll be a bit like the guinea pig within guinea pigs.”

You snickered at that, nearly tripping over one of the raised cracks in the ground. Sure, the way down the hill to the beach wasn’t the safest one ever, but at least it was convenient for conducting test dates. “The lab rat. You know, this doesn’t seem remotely like a scientific experiment.”

“What do you mean?” the other girl asked, eyes on yours.

Coughing, you looked away from her gaze, though you could feel her still staring at the back of your head. “I mean... it’s not exactly normal for 7 people to drink a potion that tastes like nothing, then go on dates with a pretty girl and treat that as testing.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“That’s what you got from my whole spiel?” you sighed in disbelief, turning to look at Mina. She laughed, gums showing slightly and her eyes twinkling, and you were forced to turn to the front yet again. “Whatever. Which trucks are we raiding first?”

And as it turned out, Mina was... generous. You were tempted to ask how she was going to keep herself from going broke if she bought that much food for everyone, but watching her bring yet another load of snacks over to where you sat on the wall, you weren’t sure if she cared too much. “Hey. Are you gonna pay for every date?”

“Hm?” She looked up from her Americano and considered the question. “Well, yes? I mean, we planned for the second date next week to be the fair, and I wouldn’t want any college student to have to pay for those overpriced tickets.”

“Aren’t you a college student?”

Mina hummed lightly and dug into her ice cream, sucking thoughtfully on the spoon. “Well, my parents are... well off? I’d like to put it that way, at least. And I think that when I can, I’ll use that to make others happy. Or to further our coven’s experiments.”

“Rich family,” you observed. “Cool.” To be honest, you didn’t really care about how much money anyone’s family made, but it was nice to have all that food paid for. After all, the sheer amount of things Mina bought could’ve covered several months worth of the finest ramen that the restaurants around campus could’ve offered. “Then why’d you end up going to college here with us normal people?”

She raised an eyebrow jokingly and gathered her knees to her chest. “Am I not a normal person anymore?” When you opened your mouth, slightly sheepishly, she giggled and waved a hand, answering, “I ended up choosing this college because my best friends came here. We’re all Japanese, and Sana wanted to come to Korea, so Momo and I just came along for the ride.”

“Ah.” You turned to watch the sky, the sun melting golden into the surface of the waves just a couple dozen feet away. You understood why it was called golden hour as you watched bright yellow rays flicker in Mina’s eyes and glow in her hair, and you had to resist the urge to pull out a camera and capture the feeling of a first date, as much of an experiment as it was. “Makes sense. Then-- how’d you find your coven? I don’t remember a Momo or a Sana.”

“Our coven is a bit... unconventional,” Mina nodded. “It’s just me, Nayeon, and Jihyo. You know that most covens form as children, and they train together, but we only met in college. See, none of us had our own coven, so it was natural that we came together. Momo and Sana aren’t witches, or we should’ve been together.”

You nodded in silence, prompting her to go on. And she did, a soft smile pressing her lips against her teeth as she thought about the girls eh seemed to consider her friends, or her family. “And, well, none of the three of us have had great luck finding someone to love. Or, to love us,” Mina added as an afterthought. “A love potion was just the first thing we fixated on.”

“Finding someone to love you?” you repeated, hand pressed up against your cheek. “I don’t mean that I don’t believe you, but it’s kind of hard to imagine that it’s difficult to find someone to love you. You’re pretty great, Mina.”

She laughed, “I’m glad you think so. But there’s a reason why we chose me as the one to test the potion with.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Mina looked you right in the eyes, a kind of softness swirling in the brown of her own eyes, and responded equally quietly, “We chose me because we thought I was the hardest to fall in love with.”

“Bullshit,” you responded instantly, heat rising to your ears immediately after. But thankfully, the Japanese girl only looked endeared, and you continued, “I mean, I don’t know if this is just the potion talking, but you’re awesome. I... I think I’d like you even if I wasn’t part of this damn experiment.”

She blushed, the hue of her cheeks matching the pink clouds in the sky. “Well, I think you’re exaggerating on that. But it’s not them, I just volunteered myself. I think people just misunderstand me, you know? It’s hard to find the right person for you when you don’t let people see you. And-- I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. On a first date, too.”

“Hey.” When she looked away from you, you reached over to squeeze her hand. Mina didn’t look back up to you, but you knew she was listening from the way she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s okay. I know what you’re saying. And I can’t say I know you yet, but I can say I wouldn’t mind knowing you. I’d like it, even.”

Mina laughed, barely loud enough for you to hear, and squeezed your hand. “Thank you, Y/N. I think we should finish our food before it gets cold.”

“Oh, yeah.” You let go to reach for one of the many desserts displayed in front of you, barely fazed by the topic change. “Wouldn’t want your parents’ money to go to waste.”

“Please let that go,” she whined.

“Not a chance,” you winked in response, laughing at her pout. “Not. A. Chance.”

“Lili, I think I’m done for.”

“Like, literally?” Lisa asked mindlessly, receiving a light hit on the head in response. “Ow, what was that for?”

You whined, “This isn’t funny. I can feel myself falling, and there’s no cushion underneath me for me to fall onto.”

The dancer rolled her eyes and reached for her milk tea. “Okay, Miss Overdramatic. You know falling doesn’t work like that, no one’s kicking you off a cliff. Especially not Myoui Mina.”

“I’m not being kicked off, I’m sliding.” You made the motions with your hand, a despondent expression on your face as you scowled, “I’m slipping through a puddle of aphrodisiac, that’s what, and Mina poured it at my feet.”

“Okay, enough with the metaphors, I’m not an English major,” Lisa sighed. She tossed a chip at your face, as if being smeared with salt and oil would wake you up from your Mina-induced trance. “You’ve gone on one date with her and spoken to her approximately twice, I think you aren’t falling just yet.”

“Did you forget the part where I’m drugged to fall in love with her?” you deadpanned.

Lisa paused at that. “Okay, I did forget that. Then what? There’s an explanation as to why you’re feeling this way, and there’s a way to get rid of it. Once you get your paycheck, you just stay away from Mina, should be easy enough, since you never met her before this. And you wait for the potion to wear off.”

“Does it wear off?” you groaned into your hands.

“Did you never ask?” Lisa asked in disbelief. “Wow, Y/N, ever heard of fine print?”

You smacked her with your rolled-up notes yet again. “Shut up. But I have a date with her tomorrow, and I don’t know what to do. I’m feeling like this because of the potion, sure, but I’m still feeling like this! And Mina has 6 other people vying for her now, all under the same effect as me. And it feels... bad.”

“Eloquent,” your friend sighed. “Then I have the perfect solution for you. Don’t go on the second date.”

“I need the money,” you shook your head. “Gimme another one.”

Lisa considered it, sucked on her straw as she did, until she shook her head. “I got nothing. All I can tell you is to enjoy it while it lasts, then just... wait. And if it doesn’t wear off, Jisoo unnie’s studying law.”

As horrible as her suggestions were, you could admit that you felt the slightest bit more assured. In the worst case scenario, you could sue Mina for winning your heart, and in the best, the somehow blissful stabs at your heart would be alleviated soon enough. 

As it turned out, you got a chauffer to the fair. Not an actual one, of course-- it was just Jeongyeon, introduced as one of Mina’s friends who could actually drive. 

You really weren’t intending to talk to her at first. She was quiet, too, didn’t even turn on the radio once she started driving, but when something that Mina said crossed your mind, you had to speak up. “Hey, Jeongyeon. Can I ask you something? About Mina?”

“Shoot,” she answered simply, keeping her eyes on the road. 

“Do you think Mina’s hard to fall in love with?”

Jeongyeon glanced at you at that, her expression slightly quizzical. “What do you mean?”

“She said something yesterday,” you explained. “Mina said that they chose her for the experiment because they thought she was the hardest to fell in love with. She said-- something about being misunderstood?”

The older girl nodded in understanding at that and blew her hair out of her face. After a short pause, she sighed, “I think that’s more of what she thinks than the rest of us. Mina... she thinks she’s unapproachable, you know. She doesn’t open up easily, so I’m surprised she told you that at all. But... she’s been hurt several times, and a lot of people think she’s mean or something similarly stupid just because she’s quiet. That’s all.”

“Oh.” You wet your lips and looked forward to the road, where you could see the fair’s Ferris Wheel already in the distance. “I see.”

And that was that. The two of you fell back into silence, and as comfortable as it was, it only gave you more time to think about what you wanted to say.

Maybe you could see why they would choose the girl who thought of herself as unapproachable and quiet to be the test, but they also didn’t seem to think about the obvious warm color to Mina that she presented. She was quiet, sure, but she was sweet, kind... there was plenty to fall in love with, and even if there wasn’t magic coursing through your system, you thought that you could’ve fallen in love with her anyway.

After bidding goodbye to Jeongyeon at the entrance, you found Mina waiting for you by the fair entrance. “Y/N!” she called out, though her voice still wasn’t loud. You could’ve spotted her anywhere anyway, and made your way over. “You’re a bit early.”

“You were earlier,” you smiled. “So. Are we ready to go in?”

“Absolutely.” Mina linked her arm in yours slightly hesitantly and surprised the both of you, but you took it in stride and swung your arm slightly to bring a smile to her face. “I’ll get our tickets, you get in line.”

“I can pay for myself,” you protested, but she waved you off. “...Okay then.”

The fair was loud, a bit too loud to hear Mina’s voice if she talked normally, so you found yourself leaning in every time she spoke. You really didn’t mind it either, feeling her words tickle your ears-- maybe it was closer than you should’ve been comfortable with, but there was a certain adrenaline pumping in your blood that you weren’t really used to. So you continued on, fed cotton candy to her despite her blush, shared a soda, won a teddy bear for her. Nothing that should’ve made your heart beat as fast as it did.

Nonetheless, time ticked by all too quickly, whirling past in a gust of quiet laughter and honestly terrible jokes. The sun set yet again, the streaks of pink and purple across powder blue oddly similar to the first date you had gone on. Mina checked her watch and frowned, “I think we only have time for one more ride before Jeongyeon comes to pick us up. What do you think?”

You barely had to ponder it before you pointed at the tall, neon-lit Ferris wheel with a smile. “Classic date ride, of course.”

“Classic,” Mina laughed in agreement. She let you tug her towards it and stood in line with you with no complaint, digging a selfie stick out from her bag. “Should we take some pictures up there? It’d be a waste of a beautiful view if we don’t.”

You shrugged, “Of course. Might as well have some pictures to remember our last date by, right?”

Mina looked caught between saying something and staying silent, but she settled with a quiet, “Sure” before starting to set her phone up. Your hand in the crook of her elbow, you tugged her forward when it was necessary, keeping your eyes away from her red-tinted lips as much as you could.

Soon enough, wind was blowing your hair off your face and the cart of the ride was creaking slightly under your weight as someone started the wheel. “Whoa,” Mina laughed breathlessly and peered over the edge. “It’s really high up.”

“And we’re only starting,” you agreed, tugging her back by the wrist. “Don’t fall over, I don’t want to get off this ride with a murder charge on my hands.”

“Hm.” Mina reached over to set the selfie stick on the seat opposite the one the two of you shared, shoving you to get you to match her smile. “Come on, 1, 2, 3.”

With every click of her phone camera, you felt yourself coming closer to her, until you could feel the rise and fall of her chest beside you. You were almost at the top of the ride in barely a couple minutes, the soft sunlight almost blinding you. As you waited for the next camera click, you felt Mina’s hand creep up your arm, up, up, until her slightly cold fingers rested on your neck. 

And then she tilted your head, fit her nose right next to yours like it belonged there, and slotted your lips together. You couldn’t think, much less fight whatever force pushed you up against her. You kissed back as best as you could with your senses battling within you, until you realized that the camera shutter had gone off at least ten times.

Mina couldn’t meet your eyes when you did pull back, and she reached over to fiddle with the camera. “Was that a part of the experiment too?” you questioned, your voice raspy.

“Maybe,” she answered, and your heart sank. But she looked up with a smile, her eyes just as confused as you felt. “And maybe not.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said dumbly, then reached over for her hand. There was nothing left to say, anyway, nothing that the slight swell to your lips didn’t already say for you, nothing that wasn’t conveyed when you leaned over to kiss her again.

The idea of allowing a love potion to work its wonders on you was like allowing yourself to be tossed into a trap. But instead of a cold, rough, and terrible trap that you would actively try to escape, you found the trap to be warm, cozy, a place that you wanted to stay-- and a place you knew that you would eventually be ejected from by force.

Once you were in the trap, though, there was no way you could pull yourself back out, especially when you didn’t really want to escape at all. You stayed up for all the nights leading up to the last time you would talk with the bio lab, just thinking about what you would do if everything that had passed by in the last couple weeks was just a figment of an aphrodisiac-induced haze. After all that time, you still didn’t quite know.

But Mina texted you often enough to pull you from that stupor. Thankfully, it wasn’t like one of those stories or dramas, where the main leads somehow fought after their first kiss-- maybe that would’ve been easier than being pulled in deeper. Instead, the two of you talked every day, even if it was only for a little while, and Mina was only worsening whatever situation you couldn’t seem to get out of.

And eventually, the day came where you’d be paid, a day that you had been looking forward to, until you began to dread it.

“Well, doesn’t someone look like a newlywed,” Nayeon greeted at the entrance with a smile, though she didn’t seem to be mocking you. “Come on in, Y/N, we’ll get you started right away.”

The closet was the exact same as it had been the first time that you stepped inside for the interview, but Mina’s smile was much more warm. “Hi, Y/N. How’re you feeling?”

“Good. Fine.” You cleared your throat and attempted to peer at her clipboard. “Questions for me?”

“Yes,” Mina nodded, flipping the pages over. “Are you ready to get started, then? On a scale from one to ten, how attracted are you to me?”

“Ten,” you answered without hesitation this time, and your smile only grew when Mina flushed.

“Okay. Are you considering dating anyone other than me right now?”

“No.” You shook your head, but gulped slightly and leaned back when Mina leaned forward to observe you.

“What about me?”

You paused, blinked, though Mina didn’t seem like she was going to move until you answered, “Yes. I would date you, absolutely.”

She flicked through the pages listlessly before setting them aside and turning back to you. Somehow, Mina looked like she was about to drop a bomb on you, her lips quivering as she calculated the right words. “I... Y/N, I have to tell you something. About the experiment.”

“I’m not going to die, am I?”

Your shitty attempt at humor did manage to prompt a smile from Mina, but she remained serious. “Not that. But- do you understand control groups? In experiments?”

“Um. I think so?” you answered, racking your brain for whatever limited knowledge of science remained with you. “It’s the normal group, right? The one that isn’t experimented on.”

“Yes, just about,” Mina nodded. She reached for your hands and clasped them within hers, eyes pleading for you to understand something that you hadn’t heard yet. “Y/N, you were the control. I... we had to make sure that it was the potion working, and not me, and you- we used you for that. You were never given any potion.”

“I...” you stammered out. Every instinct in you was screaming out to pull away from Mina’s grasp, to question every aspect of your existence that had led up to you being tricked into loving her. Somehow, everything being real only made it feel more fake, even though you now knew that what you had felt was completely you. “I don’t understand.”

Mina said softly, “You fell in love with me, or at least liked me, on your own. You didn’t work as a control group because the same thing happened to you as it did to the others, even though you never took the aphrodisiac.”

“So,” you faltered, “all seven of us fell for you. I’m just the sucker who’s in it for real, huh?”

“I was willing to sacrifice my own feelings for the experiment,” Mina clarified, shaking her head. “I knew I would fall for one of you, but I didn’t think that you, as the control, would be the one who I fell for. And who fell for me.”

Silence fell over the two of you, though you remained there, hands clasped together and eyes meeting with a clarity that speech could never capture. But you tried anyway. “Okay.”

“Just okay?” Mina questioned.

You smiled weakly as a response, “Yeah. Um... how about we go on another date to talk? After you finish interrogating everyone else?”

Mina let go of your hands and let you stand up, but you could feel her smiling at your back as you closed the closet door behind you. Like a repetition of when you thought that you’d be induced into loving her, your heart beat in your throat as you leaned against the wood. 

But when you knew it was real, when you knew that it wasn’t magic seizing you by the hand and pulling you into the unknown, you smiled. Because it felt... right.

[jimlingss]

hi Kina! may I make a request for a sort of sci-fi au? yn dies but when she opens her eyes, some unfamiliar yet familiar dude takes off his vr goggles and goes “hEy hOw wAs iT?” maybe Joon? or JK? I don’t really mind

↳ Awaken Again

2k || 50% Fluff, 50% Angst || Kim Namjoon

You die with some regrets.

But mostly without. It was a rather unremarkable, mundane life but a happy one where you feel general satisfaction for the choices and decisions you made. Above all, you feel tired. Oh so tired. You’re ready to sleep for a long while. Perhaps forever.

So you surrender to the darkness. Not sure what’s next.

……………………

Suddenly, there’s a burst of light.

It floods your vision, stirring your senses, and a comfortable weight around your head that you didn’t know was there is lifted. A gasp is stolen from your lips, filling your lungs and you realize you’re alive again. It’s hard to see, for your vision to adjust as your lashes flutter, and you squint.

But it eventually does adjust and you see again. Namely, you discover a certain man with sparkling irises and a dimpled smile in front of you.

“Hey.” His voice is deep, soft. It ignites an emotion stowed deep in your heart. “How was it?”

Your mouth draws open and your feeble voice croaks out, “Namjoon?” 

His smile fades as he searches your expression and you fall out of the chair, frantically grabbing onto the sleeves of his white lab coat. You pull him into a hug and cry out, “Oh my god, Namjoon!” 

He’s stiff against your body, not returning your embrace, but you don’t pay any mind. You’re too overwhelmed from seeing him again. “Is-Is this heaven?” you ask while shutting your eyes and savouring the moment. 

“What? No.” He looks over his shoulder and you don’t know where to.

You pull away but keep him in your reach, your hands curled into his clothes. “But if this isn’t heaven, then how is this possible?”

Namjoon’s hands wrap around your shoulders and he takes a step back, lowering his height slightly to have his eyes connect to yours. “Y/N, do you know where you are?”

“What?”

“You’ve woken up to reality,” he enunciates gingerly and carefully. “You were just in a VR simulation for the past few years. We’ve been watching you.”

You don’t understand. It doesn’t make any sense. 

He’s scaring you. “What are you talking about? What’s going on, Joon?”

Namjoon leans back and looks towards the glass window. “Subject two has no recollection of past memories and no grasp of reality,” he deadpans in a monotone. “Will need monitoring for further investigation of potential symptoms and ramifications of simulation 230616.”

He turns back to you, a large distance kept between your bodies. As if you were strangers to each other. He merely says, “Everything will be okay.”

It does little to reassure you. And the Namjoon that you’re familiar with is nothing but reassuring.

Instead of dying, instead of surrendering to the darkness, you’ve been placed in a room with stark white floors, walls, a bed and a tinted window. Fluorescent lights burn your lids and you feel frightened, but it’s coming back to you. Slowly.

You cradle yourself, murmuring, “I am Y/N L/N.” 

They said you were placed in a simulation. “I am twenty eight.” The ninety years you lived wasn’t real. 

“I am a software engineer and scientist at Realtion.” 

You recall some parts as if they were distant memories of your childhood. Blurred. Faint. But even then, they’re merely fragments of a whole mirror, puzzles of a much larger piece. You remember being excited after you were picked to be one of the first to test the simulation. You remember getting into the chair, remembering placing the headset over your head and covering your eyes. You remember the countdown of a smooth, dulcet voice — the same one that had greeted you when it was all over.

The door opens and you jolt.

The person that enters is the same one you’ve been thinking about. 

Namjoon ducks his head to get in. “I don’t know why they make these goddamn doors so small.”

You smile unintentionally. But it’s easy to relax when it’s him.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” he says.

“Interrupting what? I’m being monitored like a lab rat. There’s nothing for you to interrupt.” To prove your point, you open your arms to your surroundings. It’s pretty obvious what they think about you considering the walls and floor are plush. This isn’t any different from a padded cell save for the few furniture pieces.

Namjoon shuts the door and gives you an incredulous expression. “Don’t be like that. They’re just worried.”

“Of my psychological state? Yeah.” You lean against the wall, seated on your bed. “Might be normal though considering I thought that simulation was my reality and I barely remember anything of my actual reality.”

He snorts. “The simulation has a few kinks, but we can iron it out. It might be a bit too immersive.”

You deadpan, “You think?”

Namjoon grins and takes a seat on the uncomfortable white chair by the desk. “It’s good to see you returning to yourself. Everyone’s missed you, Y/N.”

You hum a low note, looking away. 

It’s hard to cope and you’re still traumatizing on multiple levels, but that doesn’t mean your entire personality will suddenly up and vanish. If anything, you know you’re being rather snippy towards everyone — that you’re taking out your anger on them even though it’s unwarranted. It’s not like they were the ones who forced you to step into the simulation. It’s not like they knew this would happen.

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.

Everything you lived for, everything you loved, your entire life — it’s been a lie. A virtual reality.

“Why are you here?” you ask after the silence is prolonged.

“I just wanted to check up on you.”

You pause. “How many.”

“How many…?”

You look back at him, gaze meeting his. “How many people were watching?”

Namjoon hesitates, but he answers you. “Just three. Me, Jimin and Hoseok.”

A scoff emits from your throat and you roll your eyes. You can’t believe all of the private moments in your life were being observed and recorded by others the entire time. You really were a lab rat and you still are.

“It’s confidential, Y/N,” Namjoon says. “You know that. Nothing unnecessary will be written in the final report.”

“It’s still intrusive,” you spit and soften, knees pressed against your chest as if physically curling into yourself is all the protection you have left. “It’s just….it’s just hard to cope with.”

“I know,” he murmurs gently.

“I don’t think you do,” you bite back. “I lived this entire life, this full life and to know everything was just a figment of my imagination, that nothing was real, that we—” You interrupt yourself. “Never mind.”

You know if you get too upset and your blood pressure spikes, a whole team might run in. Or maybe they already know Namjoon’s in here with you.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he pipes up, reassuring but in the moment you want it least. “The world you were in, it was constructed by your subconscious. You couldn’t control it. And relationships are built on the people who are close to you.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You hope he doesn’t say it, but he does—

“So it’s only natural that we ended up married and with kids and all that.”

You scoff. 

There’s an array of emotions that overwhelm you. Hurt that Namjoon could brush off sixty years of your marriage like that and what was so entirely real to you. Mortified that others saw how your subconscious built an intimate relationship with a colleague of yours. Confused at what you feel, how you yearn for the man across the room who you once called your dear husband— but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

So these feelings aren’t real.

Right? 

“If it’s only natural, then how come we’re not together in this ‘reality’.” It’s a bold question, but there’s no point in reserving yourself. You’ve already lived ninety years, so you know what kind of regrets are born in the face of hesitation and miscommunication. Confrontation is easy after so much experience. “You saw everything, didn’t you? You watched it all?”

Namjoon is quiet. “I did.”

“Then what do you think?”

You want to ask him how he felt about it. If he viewed that life with cold eyes and an impassive mind or if he possibly felt something, even as a bystander. 

“Was our relationship really just a wild part of my subconscious, Namjoon?”

The hurt you feel burrows deeper when he turns away from you in an extended silence. Your lips part, about to tell him to go away, so you don’t confuse the simulation with reality. But he beats you to the punch—

“It was my fault,” Namjoon murmurs and your head whips up to him. Your gazes connect. “That night before you were going into the simulation, I said something I shouldn’t have.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I….I knew you were going into the simulation for two years, so I thought I’d take my chance and if the outcome was bad, I would’ve been gone by then. I was an idiot. I didn’t know this would happen, that it would affect your subconscious so much.”

You slide off your bed, brows furrowed. “What did you say to me?”

Silence.

You come closer to him, raising your voice— “What did you tell me, Namjoon?!”

“I said I couldn’t stop thinking about you!” Namjoon’s eyes are darkened with regret, burning with embarrassment and shame. “We went out for drinks and I drank too much and I told you that if you wanted me to, I would wait for you. Until this was done.” He pulls a hand through the blonde strands of his hair, and he gets up from his spot. “There’s no point. You don’t remember it.”

But you grab him before he leaves, clutching the sleeve of his white lab coat. “What did I say?”

Desperation aches deep within you. A curiosity that eats at your brain.

Namjoon looks back at you and relays the memories you don’t have. “You said I shouldn’t wait for you, but if things don’t change and the timing is right, you’ll give your answer when you get back.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Namjoon searches your expression. It’s an intimate moment without interruption where you don’t care who might be watching or if there’s someone on the other side of the window. It feels like there’s just you and Namjoon. All that really matters.

Yet he forces you to let go of him. “I don’t want you to get confused with the simulation and reality.”

“Does it matter if it was real or not? What I feel is real. What I feel for you is real,” you spit as your annoyance surges. “Everyone keeps telling me what’s real or fake but no one wants to acknowledge that my experiences were real to me! Isn’t that the point of the simulation?!”

Namjoon’s eyes have widened. Your breathing is ragged, chest falling and rising. “I spent sixty years with you, Namjoon! We grew old together. And do you know what my first thought was when I saw you again?” You laugh bitterly. “‘Thank god he’s here, I can be with him again’.”

There are tears in your eye, welling up and blurring your vision. 

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word. He doesn’t make any excuses, any rebuttals, and doesn’t argue. He stops invalidating what you feel and instead closes the distance and embraces you.

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you lean into him, savouring it and shutting your eyes.

You know Namjoon’s worries have merit to it, that the others will think the same as he does. They’ll think you’re confusing the simulation with reality, that your ability to differentiate has weakened, that your feelings were manifested and nurtured by the simulation. They’ll think this isn’t real. 

But time will tell.

You’ve already stood the test of time with Namjoon once. You have a feeling, a second time won’t be difficult.

[spiltscribbles]

How would you do a wolfstar fic based on the way I loved you by taylor swift? from remus' pov :)

~Notes: OMFG Nonny! I need you to understand that this ask threw me back to my Twilight days when I’d watch endless edits of Bella/Edward and this particular one with this song where for some reason Edward was both guys lksajghdsfjoieagh God what a time😂 So thank you and here’s a HC of how’d I write it becs I sorta hate all my writing rn rip fklsdghasdgh But JFC it got so fucking long!!! I’M SO SORRY!

.-

So It would be a muggle AU, non linear sort of thing where you’d see Lily and Remus just hanging out in his house on boxing day of their sixth year. And they’re shuffling through photos of themselves and friends at  Hogwarts. And Remus kind of just stops at this one, particular photo from second semester of last year, when he and Sirius were still going out.

James and Lily are in the background smiling straight on the camera, but the focus is mostly where Remus and Sirius are completely oblivious to the photo, and it’s obvious that Sirius is trying to drag him onto his lap, and Remus’s head is thrown back in laughter, and Sirius is looking at him in that grossly besotted way that softens his gorgeously angular features, and it’s just an absolute deluge of emotions for Remus.

So flashback

They first met when the marauders were auspiciously roomed together as young lads in Hogwarts, and Remus grew up in a quiet coastal town in the north of Wales where everyone knew everyone, and English was actually the second language, and to put it simply, being thrown into that space with the chaotic duo that are James and Sirius was a culture shock. Even Peter— who’s plummy and  who comes from a fine, upper middle class family and is at least familiar with them in the way that the patrician always are aware of one another. So Remus automatically felt like the odd boy out.

But that night, when he wakes up because he misses his Mam and Da, he finds the tallest boy— the one with striking pale eyes and an air of superiority that kind of got on Remus’s nerves, sitting on the windowsill and up at the stars— his namesake in particular. And so Remus joins him and tells him the love story of the moon and the sun that was his Mam’s favorite and it’s the first time they feel something neither of them know the name for quite yet.

Throughout the subsequent years the marauders grow as close as family, a brotherhood of sorts.  But they all know there are different manifestations of friendships within them. There’s Sirius and James who are the boisterous, bombastic ones that always seek the spotlight, and who can finish each others sentences and who cheer one each other along when it comes to their rowdiest of pranks. There’s Peter who’s always been intimidated by Sirius, and thankful for James’s friendship and comfortable with Remus because he’s the only one who never teased him. Then there’s James and Remus where they’ve always been impressed by one another, James because he knows Remus comes from humble beginnings and is bright in the way he works for everything he has and it’s never doubted he deserves it. And Remus is impressed over how much and how deeply James loves and cares about his chosen people, how he can inspire a crowd so effortlessly. But then, probably most peculiarly to Remus is his relationship with Sirius.

He doesn’t mean to sound rude or ungrateful, but his string to Sirius is  a relationship that absolutely eclipses all the others. It’s quiet in it’s intensity, but persistent like a heartbeat. It’s nights they spend trading stories by moonlight, and afternoons quizzing each other by the fire even though Sirius has always been naturally brilliant and Remus knows he’s just humoring him, but doesn’t call him on it because he hates the thought of it ending. It’s also evenings when James is at extra footie practice that Sirius teases him for, and Peter’s at chess club, and it’s just the pair of them, existing in each others space, doing whatever they want because it’s enough just to have the other there.

Remus is confused in third year when Sirius got especially pissy because Remus began hanging out more and more with the girl James has always targeted to being a know-it-all. And Remus was cross right back because they don’t even know Lily, and she’s a nice girl, and the only other Northerner like him in their entire year, and Sirius has no reason to be cross at him making a friend outside the marauders.

But then he got even MORE confused when Sirius asked him if he liked her. And Remus literally laughed out loud, which made Sirius scrunch his face sourly which just looked funny because his features are far too gorgeous to be put in such a nasty expression. And it’s nearly five minutes later when he catches his breath and tells Sirius that he and Lily are just friends and only friends. Comparing her to a sister, which became truth in the following years.

And it’s like a snap of the fingers when Sirius immediately smoothes out his face and grins cockily once more, and makes Remus promise that they don’t date any girls unless the others all approve. And Remus isn’t sure why Sirius’s intense focus on his love life makes something peculiar unfurl in his gut but he ignores it and shakes Sirius’s still too large hand— like a puppy needing to grow into his palms. And then they write up a contract and make James and Peter sign along with them in the codenames they came up with last year. Prongs for James because his hair is something gravity defying, Wormtail for Peter because of his pet rat, Padfoot for Sirius because of him asking sodding Minerva McGonagall— their head of house— if she was on her time of the month— as a first year when she gave him and James three weeks detention for a crude prank. And Moony for Remus who constantly got lost in his books and in his daydreams that it takes the others multiple times calling his name for him to be brought back to earth.

Remus kept the contract in his lovage, but never bothered to pull it out fourth year when Sirius suddenly became very, very aware of his good looks, and high social standing, and how any girl attracted to men would chew off her own leg to get a date with him— well save for the possibly only exception that is Lily Evans. And Remus had to just deal with it, and he did. He didn’t know why Sirius and his frequent, but short lasting flings got under his skin so thoroughly. It’s not like he’s annoyed over Peter and his girlfriend Eloise or how James is still going out with a couple different girls even though he’s near constantly flirting with Lily. And it’s not like the ones Sirius decides to go out with are annoying or anything. He really likes most of them. Like Marlene is absolutely hilarious, and Maci has the same world history class with Remus so they studied together a lot. And the rest have perfectly fine attitudes. It’s just— It’s just Sirius begins sleeping more often through the night instead of swapping stories with Remus, and isn’t readily available for whenever Remus needs to take a walk in the woods because he’s becoming full of anxiety over just about everything, and it’s just— He just misses Sirius a lot.

And Remus thinks he’s an idiot because why the fuck does he feel so territorial towards one of his best friends? Why doesn’t he act this way towards James or Peter or even Lily. He doesn’t ever feel this ridiculous, clawing emotion. Something he only calls by name, jealousy, when it’s late and quiet and he’s all alone. And Remus panics because he has no idea what this means, what or why he feels this way. Because he’s not a poof?? Is he? It’s not like he’s ever been especially interested in girls or their knickers, and if the other fifteen year old boys around him is anything to go by, that’s odd. But it’s not as if he’s especially interested in any other blokes either— anyone besides Sirius. Sirius and his artfully tousled black hair that tumbles down the nape of his neck and just a couple inches above his shoulders. and his piercing eyes that always seem as if they can look right into Remus’s soul and sift through all his points of diffidence. Sirius who’s always been there for Remus in ways Remus never even expected, even knew how to ask for. The boy who brings him hot chocolate on days his migraines are especially awful, and who always begs the Matron to stay over on the nights Remus is just forced to stay in the hospital wing when he has a flare up, and who always knows to ask the caretaker for a spare blanket at the start of every term because he knows Remus is always cold but would never dare ask himself. And God, just why does it have to be Sirius!

Strangely enough, it’s Sirius who answers the question in a non direct sort of way at the end of their fourth year when Remus asks him why he broke up with Isidora so publicly and a bit callously while they’re sitting on the balcony of the astronomy tower, trading their flask of gin that Sirius snuck away from his parent’s house over easter, staring down at the grounds and the lake and it’s a beautiful night, and Remus only sorta feels it how his heart twists while Sirius sits so close. And once the question spills out his lips, Sirius peers down at him in a very subdued, very weighty sort of way and he simply says, “she’s not you Moons.”

And it’s like Remus’s heart just freezes, refuses to continue beating with the shock, with the somber words spoken without an ounce of humor. And part of him is just waiting for the joke, for the other shoe to drop. He’s just  waiting for the overdone hand to his chest, and lips pretending to pucker for a smooch. He’s waiting for the ground to return but Sirius doesn’t move, and maybe this means that this is real, that it isn’t just in Remus’s head. so all he says is a simple, “oh” and the next thing he knows is that Sirius kisses him right then and there, and it’s beginning to shower from above,  and the kiss is a bit hard for his liking— more teeth than lips and a tongue that slips in with fervor— but Remus wouldn’t stop it for all the money in the world. Wouldn’t ever let go of his grip on Sirius’s broad shoulders, or move away from where Sirius’s arms are snaking around his narrow waste. Would pay anything just to constantly feel the weight of Sirius over him like this for forever.

He doesn’t know for how long they lied their in the pouring rain, just exchanging slow, lingering snogs, and tender touches that feel like a thousand flames. But Remus probably should’ve expected that the next morning, while they’re all preparing to board the train, Sirius doesn’t catch his eye or ever really speak to him. And that’s fine. Remus has been questioning his sexuality for a while now. Maybe Sirius is just confused or just nervous because they’ve been friends for so long. So he doesn’t mind. Ends up splitting his time on the train with the boys and with Lily and it’s all alright. When he gets home, he types Sirius a letter explaining to him that it’s fine, that they can take things slow, that they don’t have to call it anything yet, and he toys with that patch on his neck that’s still purple from Sirius’s mouth and he’s actually elated with the idea of it.

Sirius doesn’t answer the email

And he doesn’t answer the one after that either, or the ones that follow. And Remus eventually takes the hint when he gets a email from Peter who’s holidaying in France and asks Remus how hard he laughed from Sirius’s story about how he nearly pulled the mum of the latest London bird he’s shagging that he wrote them about. And Remus is equal parts embarrassed and self rebuking. Because he’s such an idiot, Sirius was probably annoyed from his constant emails like he’s some jilted ex lover, like the girls he pulls along. And Remus is really a fucking idiot. So he rings Lily and they meet at a pub that’s equidistant from both of them, and he didn’t have to tell her what happened because she’s really just a genius, so they drink the night away and he swears off love and she swears to kick James in the Bollocks at least once this year, and it’s the first time all summer Remus laughed.

By the time they got to fifth year, Remus had ranted enough to Lily that he was over it— well erm, mostly at least. It still hurt like nothing else when he first spotted Sirius on the train, looking taller and leaner and tanner and just sexier as all get out. ANd it makes something ugly twist in his gut, laughing at himself over thinking  that a practical demigod would be interested in someone who prefers books to most people and who has to wear charity shop clothes when he’s not in his school uniform and just— He’s an idiot. So when Sirius steps into the cart with Remus, James and Peter, and his look of contrition tosses to Remus  a beat passes. And  it’s quickly willed away when Remus just smiles warmly, tries to silently tell him not to worry about it, and asks out loud if he’d like a chocolate frog.

And it’s normal, it’s fine, the first weeks of term are typical as ever for the boys. They commit pranks on the creepy wankers like Snape and Avery. And they laugh at James’s latest failed attempt to woo Lily. And they spend all nighters in the library and celebrate with pickup games of footie. And it’s pretty bloody brilliant, but then Sirius’s birthday hits, and they plan a surprise for him on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, filled with food and drinks  and friends. ANd Remus gets the key as prefect, and Peter sneaks in the booze with his free afternoon off and James make sure that everyone they like is there to celebrate the greatest git they all know. And Sirius is so, so happy when he sees it. Wich of course he is, Remus knows how difficult his parents are, how lonely he can get over the breaks without the lads. So he’s so, so happy to see that look of mirth twinkling in Sirius’s pale eyes, and he does everything he can to make it so Sirius is laughing all night long.

But towards the end, no matter how much he wants to make it the best night for Sirius, he just has to get away from the sight of Sirius dancing obscenely with Florence Whittemore. Because he doesn’t have to be a damn martyr. 

He goes to a private nook on the rooftop, and pulls out the pre-rolled spliff to light up, only sorta surprised when Sirius makes his way to him— far away from the crowd and away from the music. And he plops down on the step right  under his, obviously loaded and smiling like the sun, crooning “Moony,” over and over again and Remus can only dimple down  indulgently at him, carding his hand through Sirius’s hair gently, spurred on by the drinks and the weed and just by that quiet, unassuming love he has held for him like a torch all these years.

“Did you wear my favorite sweater on purpose?” Sirius asks, a bit slurred, tilting his head so it rests on Remus’s shoulder and he can feel the tendrils of his warm breath brushing against his neck, and Remus suddenly feels like he’s on fire again. 

And he looks down at the green sweater he’s got on, a gift from his Mam for his fifteenth last year and the one that he was wearing the first night Sirius kissed him. So, yeah maybe Remus wore it subconsciously precisely because of that. But he’d never tell him.

And neither of them could say who leaned forward first, but they were kissing again and it still feels like everything splendid and like Remus’s mind is melting right out of his head and it’s so fucking miraculous.

But then they hear a coughing and they spring apart in panic, only to meet Lily’s shrewd, green eyes and she’s glaring at Sirius like she could scorch a whole right through him. And she tells them that there’s a Filch sighting and they need to get to the dorms pronto. 

Sirius scrambles up, looking at them panicky like he doesn’t know what to say, but then Remus tells him to hurry along because he and Lily—as Prefects— are the only ones who won’t get in trouble for being out. And Sirius looks at Remus like there’s a thousand things he’d like to say, but nods soberly and sprints away, and Remus is objected to Lily’s silent, judgmental worrying for their entire track back downstairs.

Remus isn’t surprised when Sirius tells them all that he’s dating Florence now over breakfast, and Peter gazes at him in aw at pulling the fittest girl in their year, and James claps his back hardily and talks about the double dates they can go on now since he’s still dating Jeanette. As if James isn’t glancing back at Lily even as he’s speaking it, and as if Sirius isn’t peering over apologetically to Remus as if there was ever anything between them.

However, what does surprise Remus is when late that night, Sirius pads over to his bed in the middle of the night like they haven’t done since they were both 14, and they’re lying down, not looking at each other before Sirius kisses him again and Remus lets himself enjoy it, let himself melt into him. But then he remembers the pretty blonde girl who he’s actually dating and it hurts like nothing else when he tells him the next night when Sirius makes the same track to his bed that they can’t do anything because they’re going to ruin their friendship and he has a girlfriend and Remus just can’t. So Sirius nods, tells him he’s always been the best of them, and kisses his forehead before returning to his own bed. And Remus silently refutes the comment because he hates not letting himself even get the scraps.

So Sirius dates Florence for the next month or so, and Remus puts up with it because of course he does. Because if it’s Sirius’s friendship or nothing at all, he’d always pick the former. Would always want Sirius to be with him in anyway possible. But then over winter break he officially runaways from his barmy ancestral home and goes off to James’s house in the countryside. And he texts Remus, begging him to come visit for New Year’s Eve. So Remus does, even gets Lily to tag along.

And once they get there, Sirius just smacks a big one on him in front of literally a whole house of people— including James and James’s Parents and all the Potters’ friends— and he tells him that he loves him and that he doesn’t want to pretend they’re only friends anymore, and Remus is blushing and grinning, and he thinks that Sirius is the maddest bloke he knows and he loves him to.

And it’s good between them, it’s remarkable. Sirius is passionate about every aspect in his life so it’s no surprise how remarkable of a boyfriend he is, how his every splendid gesture is large and vivacious and vibrant in ways Remus can’t even describe.

But the thing is that Remus is just simply not like that, has never been loud or commanding a presence. When he’s the leader of something like a prank execution or a school project, he prefers to get input from the others, make them think they did an equal amount of work even if Remus was the one behind it all. He’s always been reserved, quiet. And it’s not that he’s shy, it’s just he doesn’t ever see a reason to make a big show out of everything. And Sirius has known him for over half a decade now, so Remus assumes that he gets it.

But then it’s apparent that sometimes he doesn’t think that Remus loves him as much— which is so bloody bonkers Remus can’t even fathom it. or he thinks that Remus is just going with the motions, dating Sirius just because Sirius asked him too. And that gets Remus mad, absolutely fucking furious. The idea that Sirius can doubt his emotions like that.

“Get your cocky head out your arse and think about how not everyone has to be as ruddy loud as you are.” Remus had yelled one night in the common room in early February when Sirius tried giving him a ridiculous teddy bear holding a heart as if he’s an actual sodding bird and he refused it and Sirius got tetchy. But then Sirius had laughed like the mad man he is and then snogged him within an inch of his life and Remus thinks he got his point across.

Their one, really huge blow out, is on Remus’s birthday when he gets to his birthday dinner with his parents who came up to celebrate. And Sirius was visibly, painfully drunk and he spluttered the whole three hours and Remus was secretly thankful that his parents only thought he was a friend and not his sodding boyfriend and by the time they got to the dorm Remus had shouted, really fucking shouted at him. Had screamed things that he would regret just as soon as they came out. But it was ridiculous and Sirius could be such an arse sometimes. And Sirius had yelled back about how fucking stuffy Remus is about everything and claiming that they didn’t even notice and who the fuck cares. And Remus was shaking so hard, grabbed his pillow and blankets to sleep in the common room instead.

But of course, he knew that Sirius would follow him, that Sirius always prodded whenever Remus wanted to just runaway, that he could never leave well enough alone. And they argue again but it quickly became them rutting up against each other in the middle of the night, atop the sofa where anyone could walk down an catch them an Remus didn’t care, just needed to feel Sirius, feel him all over.

Remus only found out the next day by a red faced and quiet Sirius that he was nervous, that he didn’t mean to get so sloshed but he’s already failed with his parents and he didn’t want Remus’s to know how much of a fucking screw up he is and Remus just kissed him gently and called him an idiot and they never spoke about it again.

A few weeks later, Sirius goes off to holiday with the Potters on the Moroccan coast and Remus was only sorta jealous, but he understood that Sirius has always starved for a family, a real family, and that this is good for him. And the Potters are lovely people, and nearly as wealthy as the Blacks— well erm, as close as can be possible for ordinary folks. And James is Sirius’s brother in all but blood. Of course Sirius wouldn’t want to spend the week in Remus’s sleepy hometown with his bookish father and somewhat smothering Mam. But then he gets a call at two in the morning— so three in the morning by them— and It’s a pissed Sirius screaming into the phone over the music of some club and Remus hears a girl’s voice crowing his name and he hangs up in the middle fo Sirius trying to tell him some story about a boat or llama or what the fuck ever. And then Sirius storms to their shared dormitory when they all got back, yelling at Remus for not answering his calls for the rest of the week, and then Remus screamed back that he didn’t want to keep him from his haram of girls. And Sirius snarled out that he didn’t kiss or even bloody flirt with any of them and that Remus needs to start trusting him or pull that stick out his ass. And Remus was just so taken aback he had no idea what to say, so he just shook his head, discarded words and pounced on him for them to snog instead— James and Peter rolling their eyes as they slowly exited the room.

And there entire relationship is a bit like that, firecrackers that simmer to something tender because their foundation has always been the purest, most important friendship and even though the sex is fucking miraculous and mind-blowing and maddeningly delicious, they’ll always be friends. 

So that’s why Remus gets so angry that Sirius is acting so blasé when Snape finds out about them and threatens to tell the whole school. “It’s not a big deal Moons, practically everyone who isn’t an idiot already knows.”

And Remus swears he saw red, felt his blood pressure pulse. “Well my parents don’t know, and I’d rather be the one to tell them instead of them hearing it from the gossip mill from one of the other students parents!”

And Sirius’s expression got very stoney right then, his shoulders drawn back and brows furrowed. “So what? You’re ashamed that you’re dating a bloke? Or a bloke who’s own parents didn’t want him?”

And Remus is so fucking gobsmacked, so disbelieving that this is still such a point of sensitivity for him. That he still isn’t quite comprehensive just how much and how thoroughly and how desperately Remus loves him, and all that comes out is “You’re a bloody pillock.” And Sirius doesn’t give him enough time to explain himself and before he knows it they’re on the train home and Sirius isn’t even talking to him and he’s home in Wales once more.

He tries messaging Sirius all summer long, tries explaining himself. He even tells his parents that he’s as gay as the day is long, and they were so supportive that it gave him hope. But then Remus goes to Lily’s house one night for a movie, and her phone pins with a snap notification from James, and she tells him to open it for her while she tries pulling out the biscuits from the oven, and Remus Sees a dorky looking James, a London night club’s logo on the bottom of the filter and it’s all innocent until he really looks and he sees Sirius— clear as day, and he’s kissing another bloke. A blonde, good looking bloke that Remus could never be and one that Sirius deserves. And he feels so empty, so exhausted, so tired of it all as he numbly hands it over to a anxious looking Lily.

And Remus decides right then that he and Sirius really need to end this. 

They need to cut all the strings of this ill-fated romance, because they’re both too volatile and too sporadic. They can’t risk their friendship over this. Remus can’t lose Sirius just because Remus never deserved him as a boyfriend.

So when they get back to classes for their sixth year, Remus pretends nothing had ever happened between them.

He acts cordial, and companionable and like the friend he was to Sirius before he let his bloody emotions get in the way. And Sirius is suspicious but cautious and sometimes he looks like he does when he wanted to kiss him, so Remus would have to race off and he’d stay out late as possible in the library so to get back to their room after they’ve all fallen asleep. And he’s thankful he does the one time he finds that Sirius had ended up falling asleep in Remus’s bed while waiting up for him.

On one of those nights out to the library he begins speaking with Ezra.

Ezra is a prefect also, and he’s a year above them in classes so he gladly helps Remus with the questions he has for the course work. He’s extremely handsome, and Remus doesn’t feel so guilty when he recognizes the fact. He’s got brown hair numerous shades darker from Remus’s tawny color, and he’s got very lovely green eyes and he smiles at Remus shyly. So it’s not a surprise when he kisses him softly for the first time in early October, and it’s nice. It’s not fire licking up his insides like Sirius’s kisses are, but it’s sweet. And he’s sweet. 

They go out on casual dates to the city on allotted weekends and they drink coco by the fire. He tells Remus about growing up right outside Edinburgh and Remus tells him about the sea glass his Mam taught him to find by the ocean, and his collection of shells and his favorite peer to watch the sunset and Ezra listens like he is so very interested. And They’re a quiet pair, even the first time he gives Remus a blow job behind the greenhouses. And it’s good, because it’s fucking sex of course its good. But he doesn’t know how to use his tongue like Sirius learned how, or how to squeeze just a bit too tightly around his shaft when he’s lapping the head. But it’s not Ezra’s fault. Sirius and Remus had plenty of practice, the one thing they did more than laugh or argue was fuck. And that’s because it was always fun, always good. They stumbled through it together and learned what they liked and what they didn’t and how amazing it felt whenever they were intwined like that— When Sirius was on top of him, underneath him, deep inside of him and all around him.

But that’s not a fair comparison. Sirius has always excelled in everything, has always been a supernova. And Remus needs to learn how to be his friend again, and stop remembering all those times between the sheets or hidden behind the greenhouses or sometimes even in closets between classes.

And they’re getting there. Sirius has stopped trying to wait up for him, and he laughs at his jokes easily again. He doesn’t touch Remus, not really, not ever. And he looks like a flicker has been blown out behind his disarmingly handsome face, but they’re getting closer.

And Ezra is great, Ezra is so amazing. He’s sweet and he texts Remus a good night and good morning message every day. He walks him to class and they kiss softly goodbye. He buys Remus cherry filled brownies even tho that’s possibly the one type of chocolate he doesn’t like. But he eats them anyways because he knows they’re expensive. And he steadfastly ignores the box of his favorite caramel ones that are left on his bed the morning after Ezra got them for him.

And when Ezra comes over their house for Christmas he’s perfect in front of his parents. He complements the dinner Lyall made and how lovely Hope’s necklace is. And he gets along seamlessly with Lily when they met up nearly every night to go out to the tree in the center of her hometown or ice skating or to take pictures by the lights.

But when he leaves, Remus just feels empty. He stays up all night thinking about it, about why he can’t love Ezra the way he loved— the way he’s always loved and continues to love Sirius. How he will forever love Sirius. And he ends up cursing Sirius’s name a thousand times over throughout  the span of one night.

And it’s back to the start of the story with Remus and Lily lounging in his living room and looking at the photo and Remus feels his eyes watering and Lily kissing his cheek while silently handing him his phone.

They exchange a smile.

And Remus decides he’ll talk to Ezra in person, explain how he’s a great guy and how lucky Remus was to be with him. But now— well now he needs to slide open his phone because he can hardly breathe anymore.

And when he hears Sirius’s familiar, golden baritone answering tentatively, “Hiya Moons.”

And Remus swallows down the emotion in his throat, and he just loves him so much.

“Can you drive up here? Preferably not with the bike.”

“James’s Dad left us his car.” Sirius retorts, and Remus can hear the smile in his voice. “But, are you sure?”

And Remus wants to scream it to the clouds and the ocean and the mountain tops that of course he is, that this— the emotions he has for Sirius, the way he loves him— is the one sure thing in his life.

“I love you Pads.”

A silence beats between them before he hears Sirius answer back, buoyant and vivid and so much him that it aches.

“I love you to Moony. I love you so much.”

[tibby]

If you have the time can you please please please recap season 4 of riverdale. I was going to binge it on Netflix but things happen and then I saw your post about the graduation episode and HAD to watch that happen and now I’m recommitted to the cause and need to know what happened while I was gone

sure. okay so the season sadly starts with the death of fred andrews in a very sentimental and moving episode that’s kind of seperate from the rest of the show so it’s not really until episode two that things kick off. the riverteens are kind of thriving in a parentless world because milf alice was kidnapped by a cult, dilf hiram and milf hermione are in prison, milf penelope is in hiding after killing a bunch of people, milf mary is kind of just There, milf gladys went back to toledo after her drug empire failed, god knows what milf sierra and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad are off doing, and dilf fp is the sheriff but because it’s fp he’s kind of bad at it. so the riverteens are horrified when their new principal mr honey expects them to be at school on time and disapproves of them throwing school dances because students keep getting murdered at them. cheryl, who an episode prior never wanted anyone in riverdale to celebrate the 4th of july ever again because of her brother’s death, considers this an act of oppression and throws a party at her house. however, as she is keeping her brother’s mummified corpse in the basement, she gets angry when reggie tries to sneak down there. meanwhile gay kevin is trying to make amends with betty for the time he tried to have her lobotomised because of the cult led by chad michael murray. betty uses this to her advantage to find out where the cult is, teaming up with her half brother, charles (not to be confused with chic, who was only PRETENDING to be charles back in season two). archie gets munroe, his prison buddy, to attend riverdale high, and reggie is weirdly jealous about it. archie discovers that this is because reggie is being abused by his father, so they smash in his car and apparently this solves everything. jughead starts attending stonewall prep, where he meets bret weston wallis, donna sweett, joan berkeley, and jonathan. he also reunites with moose, who disappeared in mid s3 after cheryl outed him to the whole school including his homophobic dad, and then his homophobic dad dressed up as the gargoyle to try and stop moose and gay kevin hooking up in the sex bunker they stole from dilton doiley after he killed himself, but it turns out that his homophobic dad was just angry HE never got to fuck gay kevin’s straight cop dad back in the day. it was this whole thing. anyway, moose is like “i’m going by my real name, marmaduke now, so people don’t find out about my dad” but everyone does anyway and so moose mysteriously disappears again. betty finds out where the cult is (after disarming a bomb attached to her sister polly using a bobby pin) and goes to rescue her mother. milf alice reveals that chad michael murray is using the cult money to build a rocket, and his wife/fake daughter evelyn is going to drive a bus full of cultists off a cliff. the day is saved! veronica finds out that her father’s real surname is luna and decides to start going by that as an act of rebellion because he keeps leaving the prison that he owns to fuck with her after she had him arrested. archie decides to turn his gym into a community centre with munroe’s help. cheryl, who, for unknown reasons, obtained custody of polly’s twins, immediately fires the nanny that toni hired because he said there were probably rats in the walls and went into the basement. cheryl goes to make sure that the nanny didn’t interfere with her brother’s mummified corpse, and toni walks in on her stitching him up. videotapes start arriving at the homes of the riverdale residents of said homes being filmed for hours. onto halloween! toni tells cheryl they can’t have a dead body in the horse and makes her rebury jason, at which point cheryl claims she is being haunted by a doll named julian, who is supposedly possessed by the spirit of her other brother that she ate in utero, but the haunting will stop if they unbury jason. toni agrees, but the doll continues to appear in weird places, and cheryl is forced to confess that while she WAS gaslighting her before, she isn’t right now. betty bonds with charles while receiving prank phone calls from polly, who is now in a mental institution. archie and munroe try to throw a halloween party at their community centre for the troubled youths but it’s interrupted by a drug dealing gang trying to start shit in the parking lot, thus giving archie a new enemy. reggie destroys mr honey’s office for the joke but mr honey catches him and is like “you do this because your dad hits you.” jughead uncovers mysteries surrounding strange disappearances of prep students known as “the stonewall four,” and donna drugs him so she and bretjoanjonathan can lock him in a coffin overnight as a bit. meanwhile, veronica burns a man alive in her basement. archie becomes a teen vigilante for the millionth time in the series, jughead and the other stonewall stags go into the running to be the ghostwriter for the baxter brothers franchise, veronica gets her mother out of prison but then finds out that her half sister, hermosa the PI, got their father out of prison, and he is now mayor again. betty and gay kevin start an fbi training course in which betty realises the serial killer gene is a real thing and she does have it, and remembers when she killed her childhood cat. jughead finds out that his grandfather who drunk himself to death but also abandoned fp but is also just some guy ACTUALLY wrote the baxter brothers franchise and is like “i have to reveal this!” so he takes it to his english teacher mr chipping but then mr chipping jumps out of a window before anything can come of it, and jughead is horrified when the stonewall stags have no reaction. cheryl is still convinced she is being haunted by a doll and things are further complicated when her extended family shows up. her uncle discovers jason’s body in the basement, threatens to send cheryl away, and is killed by toni. speaking of death, archie is still on his vigilante shit and asks hiram for help, at which point the near dead body of the gang leader, dodger shows up wrapped in carpet outside of the community centre. betty visits chic in prison to find out more about charles, and when chic threatens to reveal where milf alice buried the man she killed back in season two, charles and fp go to dig it up again and move it somewhere else. to get her family away from her and also in the spirit of thanksgiving, cheryl makes them think that they ate her uncle. dodger’s family show up at the community centre thanksgiving for revenge and there’s almost a shoot out, but thankfully the deep fryer explodes and chaos is avoided! milf mary later suggests the deep fryer exploding was archie’s dead dad’s ghost. betty and jughead spend the weekend at stonewall prep, where they play a homoerotic game of never have i ever with bret and donna. donna says that she and mr chipping were having an affair. now it’s time for the gang to go to therapy: archie gets diagnosed with gay but is also just suffering from an insane guilt complex, betty has mommy issues, veronica has daddy issues, cheryl is being gaslit but did NOT eat her brother in utero, jughead is just some guy. jughead finds out where his abusive alcoholic grandfather has been hiding out, and meanwhile his dad gets shot. veronica decides to fight back against her father by starting a rival rum business. polly rips off a nurse’s face and betty finds out that everyone in her family has a trigger word instilled in them by the cult, so she imagines herself going back in time to STOP her child self killing her cat to learn how to control it. cheryl uncovers her gaslighter by literally gassing her house, and it’s revealed that milf penelope was living in the walls and mad that cheryl had jason’s body. cheryl reburies jason and imprisons her mother in the sex bunker. archie’s uncle shows up, just in time for football season! the riverteens are playing stonewall prep, and reggie reveals that the preppies fight dirty, just in time for them to tonya harding munroe’s knees as he is their star player. archie’s uncle gives munroe steroids so he can play anyway, and riverdale loses but munroe gets a scholarship. cheryl feuds with her new cheerleading coach and locks her in her office so she has a panic attack. hiram threatens to sue veronica for stealing his rum recipe, so she teams up with cheryl (maple syrup queen) to create a new type. jughead joins the stonewall prep secret society, the quill and skull, and reveals that he watched a homeless man die. also, the cheerleading team performs cherry bomb. betty starts feuding with bret and decides to stand off against him in a quiz show, and although she wins, she is accused of cheating and is forced to give it up. she also wanted to use this to try and get into yale because apparently “cooper” is an uncommon name and people associate it with her serial killer father. veronica and cheryl enlist milf penelope and her former brothel in a hotel to run their underground rum dealership after hiram kept fucking shit up at veronica’s speakeasy. jughead is forced to come up with new stories for his baxter brother books, and so he writes about betty’s serial killer father (uh oh!) archie tries to restart his father’s construction company but his uncle’s shenanigans make it hard and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad has HAD IT. fangs is back from cult recovery, but gay kevin has gotten into non sexual tickle porn. toni and fangs get in on this they use this to blackmail nick st clair after he returns and understandably upsets cheryl, his would be rape victim. archie is attacked in the bathrooms at school because his uncle can’t mind his own business, but this plot was fucking boring so i don’t remember most of it. jughead and bret decided to duel, because of course, and betty uses this as a chance to investigate the preppies further. she finds out that bret films sex tapes and blackmailed moose with one, and also has one of her and jughead. she also finds a video suggesting donna lied about her affair with mr chipping. veronica goes to new york to visit katy keene, played by lucy hale of fantasy island fame, who tells her that her mother is dying. veronica returns home just in time to hear that hiram has a mysterious disease and decides to make amends. jughead is accused of plagiarism, meanwhile veronica realises her father thrives off war, and continues their rum battle. archie is now drinking at school and veronica accuses mr honey of being a fascist for having a problem with it. BUT. MOST IMPORTANTLY. ALL SEASON WE HAVE BEEN TEASED WITH DEADHEAD. AND IT IS FINALLY HAPPENING. IDES OF MARCH PARTY AT STONEWALL PREP. AND BETTY BASHES JUGHEAD’S HEAD IN WITH A ROCK. betty tries to prove that the stonewall stags did it instead but donna is an insane lesbian and thrives off gaslighting and fucking with her. because jughead died, betty gets his spot at yale. the core four are accused of murder but cleared of everything. jughead has a funeral, and bret’s attempt of proving jughead isn’t in the casket are thwarted by the sweet pea, the sweetest pea in the room. hiram shows up just to fire fp as sheriff. betty kisses archie to help with her grief, and veronica ends things with them both. but donna is not convinced, and goes around stalking betty, saying she watched her sex tape and knows that betty couldn’t last so long without sex with jughead. and she is right! because lo and behold, jughead is alive and hiding in the sex bunker, despite donna’s best attempts to catch them out. donna knows they’re up to something and implies she killed jonathan when bret doubts her. betty and archie are like “yeah we only dated for the bit :/” but their texting implies it was...more. betty and jughead return to stonewall and expose the preppies, but they decide not to interview jonathan because he “has food poisoning.” or he’s dead. their other teacher kills himself, and fp reunites with his abusive father. betty discovers that donna’s grandmother was one of the people killed for the rights to the baxter brothers/tracy true franchise, and the entire scheme was a complicated revenge plot by donna to get back at their teacher for killing her grandmother. betty blackmails her with this information so donna can’t have the tracy true contract, and everything is “wrapped up” just in time for gay kevin to announce he’s doing a variety show. gay kevin’s intentions of performing hedwig are destroyed when mr honey is like “no, this is inappropriate for high schoolers,” and so the riverteens decide to band together and have everyone perform hedwig songs as an act of protest. meanwhile, betty and jughead fight because jughead didn’t do his homework because he was too busy watching the stalker vhs tapes, and veronica and archie fight because he lied about her father working out at his gym, given that hiram has tried to kill him multiple times and doesn’t really care about his health. betty and archie use this as an opportunity to kiss during origin of love. the variety show is cancelled, but the core four and gay kevin perform midnight radio on the roof, and jughead watches a stalker vhs tape of someone in a betty mask killing someone in a jughead mask. tickle porn shenanigans continue, and gay kevin is threatened over cheating his original tickle porn handler out of money. mr honey then forces them to shut the website down. cheryl leaves the rum business after her mother is threatened because of goons that were mad at hiram. hiram decides to deal with this by going after said goons. archie writes a song for betty, they explore their relationship further, but she picks jughead over him even when he says he’ll dump veronica for her. jughead discovers that ethel watched his and betty’s sex tape, and he and charles uncover blue velvet video, which houses sexy films and snuff films, and jughead is like “oh this is connected to the whole vhs stalker thing.” cheryl is sent a video of someone dressed up as her father killing someone dressed up as her brother. the riverteens turn their focus to the fact that all of them except archie and jughead have been banned from prom for various reasons, and betty suggests they kill mr honey as punishment. jughead writes an elaborate murder fantasy about them doing so, and also kills off reggie and drives cheryl insane for the bit i guess. the riverteens conclude that mr honey was behind the vhs stalker tapes and have him fired, and he tells them they’re all deranged before going to teach at stonewall prep. the school secretary tells them all the wonderful things mr honey did for the school and hands jughead a recommendation letter he wrote him for college. jughead realises they fucked up and rewrites his story so mr honey lives, but uh oh! he and betty uncover a vhs tape of their fictional murder of mr honey, much like the others.

and that’s what you missed on riverdale!

[lovelyirony]

@unfortunatelyevent a late birthday gift for you! special thanks to ava and peachy for giving me this idea :) 

When Rhodey got accepted into MIT, he was fifteen, set to turn sixteen when he went there. His family held parties for it, his mama cried, and his dad called about every friend that he’d ever made to tell them the news that his boy was going to MIT. 

Outwardly, you couldn’t tell that he was fazed by anything. He got registered for classes, signed up for a random roommate, and kept track of getting his textbooks. His dad bought him a crewneck, told him to start saving up for “the brass rat” ring, and said that he was so excited to help him move in. 

Rhodey’s terrified. He doesn’t get sleep, has recurring nightmares about failing out, and he’s much younger than everyone else. 

“You’re only two years younger, honey,” Mama says, her hand brushing away flour on his face as he helps her bake cookies. “It’s not gonna be that bad.” 

It’s that bad. 

Everyone knows more than him, no one talks to him, and he’s nervous as all hell. 

He cries for two hours when his parents and his sister leave, telling him to remember to call or write. He thinks that’s the only thing that’ll keep him sane. 

He’s one of the younger ones in his engineering class, and someone asked him why he’s taking such hard classes. 

“Because this is...my major?” Rhodey answers, confusion written all over him. 

“Oh, we thought you played basketball or something,” the other guy says, as if that’s all he can do. 

Rhodey doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want them to know how much it burns to hear that, so he just nods and says his coordination is shit. 

His roommate also hasn’t moved in yet. Or he has. He has. His name is Anthony, but Rhodey literally never sees him except for when he’s a blanket-burrito in his bed or when he traipses in from spending all night at a frat party or studying at the library. 

They say hi to each other. Rhodey asks how things were. “Fine” is the usual response, followed by “I’m gonna go to bed.” 

He’s never felt more alone. 

He tries not to call his parents often. A lot of people get home-sick, right? But he doesn’t think that anyone else wants to call their parents every single day. 

“So, what fun things have you been up to?” Dad asks over the phone. “My boy been partying out all night?” 

“I’ve just been focusing on studying,” Rhodey mumbles. “Not a lot of time for parties.” 

“Your roommate okay?” Mama asks. “What’s his name again...Anthony?” 

“Yeah, he’s alright. I don’t see him much, he stays out late a lot.” 

“Even on school nights?” 

“Even then, mama,” Rhodey says. “Listen, I gotta head to lunch, but I’ll call you later this week?” 

“Be sure it’s not on Friday, we’re headed to Jeanette’s band concert! We love you, Jim!” 

“Love you too!” he responds, hoping to god they can’t tell how sad he is when their phone calls cut off. He misses his home, misses waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning, his mom kissing everyone’s foreheads as they rush out of the house to school or work. 

He hates it here. 

But he can’t leave. 

His chest gets tight when he imagines calling his parents or telling them at a holiday party that he doesn’t want to go there anymore, he’s not ready. 

Would his scholarship be guaranteed two years later? No. They would ask him why and he can’t tell them the real reason why. He can keep up with schoolwork no problem. In fact, that’s the least of his worries. 

It’s just so goddamned lonely. His roommate isn’t anywhere, no one talks to him, and he doesn’t know anyone in Boston. 

- 

He walks back into the room, and Anthony’s sitting on his bed. It’s the first time he’s actually seen him. 

His hair is everywhere, he’s looking at Rhodey for the first time and he looks so young. Just like him. 

“Are you eighteen?” he blurts out. “You really don’t look like it.” 

“I’m, um, sixteen,” Rhodey says. “And you...?” 

“Fifteen,” he says quietly. 

“You’re fifteen and you’ve been out every night?!” 

“I’m mostly at the library!” Anthony defends. “Friday is for the partying, but mostly the library!” 

“That’s good to know,” Rhodey says faintly. 

“And you’re in college, why aren’t you going to parties with me?” Anthony asks. 

“I don’t have time, Anthony!” 

“No,” he says. “You are not calling me Anthony, that’s so stupid. Call me Tony, everyone does.” 

“You know a lot of people at this school?” 

“More like they know me,” Tony says with a shrug. 

“How so?” 

“What, you haven’t seen my dad on magazine covers or anything?” 

“Uh...am I supposed to?” Rhodey asks. “He an actor or something?” 

Tony snorts, pulling out a magazine that he’d obviously nabbed earlier on. 

On the cover is Howard Stark. 

Rhodey looks between Tony and the face on the cover. 

“Oh. Shit.” 

Tony cackles. 

“Rhodey, I think I’m going to like you. How’d you get that nickname?” 

“Wouldn’t stop following my older cousins around, they nicknamed me that as word-play off of ‘roadie’.” 

Tony snorts. 

“That’s so lame. I love it. Hey, listen. I gotta go get a book for one of my projects, you wanna come with me? I know that one of your classes needs a book, right?” 

“Yeah, my writing class. Wants some biography.” 

“Come on, let’s go.” 

Tony...he’s a good conversationalist. For once since he’s gotten here, Rhodey isn’t letting the impending panic of being alone consume him. He walks easily instead of nearly on his toes around campus, and his eyes aren’t darting everywhere as Tony tells him about something stupid that happened in his early morning class. 

“You know who you’re doing your biography assignment on?” 

“Has to be someone who’s had a profound effect on your life. I don’t know who.” 

“Scientist or what? What are you studying?” 

“Aerospace engineering.” 

“Holy shit, you’re smart,” Tony swears. 

“Says the son of a genius billionaire.” 

“Yeah but I don’t touch aerospace with a sixty foot pole,” Tony says. “Jesus, you’re incredible. How did you even know you wanted to do this?”

“I’ve always liked the myths and stuff behind space, and I liked how we discovered more and more over time,” Rhodey says. “The moon was cool as shit.” 

“Or was it...faked?” 

Rhodey shoots him a look, and Tony’s cackling. 

“You did not.” 

“Who knows? I come from a very rich families. Rich families buy politicians and also cover up every single scandal. Who knows what I know?” 

 Rhodey looks over at him, eyebrows raised. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Oh my dear,” Tony says, holding a hand to his chest. “You have so much more to learn about your new friend.” 

Friend. 

That makes him feel better. 

He finds a book on Humphrey Bogart. 

Bogart has not had a profound effect on his life at all. Ever. He’s never even seen a movie with the guy in it, although it’s the only book that he can find that looks remotely interesting and the library is about to close. 

He reads about Bogart quite often. The guy’s...something. Grew up high society, his parents sucked, the typical Hollywood story. 

Although he said exactly what was on his mind, which made him popular with the press and unpopular in the business. 

It’s intriguing. 

It kind of reminds him of Tony, honestly. 

The paper itself isn’t due until the semester is over, and the book is over three hundred pages, so he has time to read it. 

- 

Tony and him become...closer. Tony hangs around the room more, and Rhodey stops being so lonely, although he still misses Philadelphia badly and calls his parents every week and occasionally talks to his sister. 

He always gets a strange look from his roommate, but it never lasts for very long. 

Finally, he gets a question from him. 

“Why do you always call your parents?” 

Rhodey looks at him in surprise. 

“I...miss them?” 

“Why?” 

“They’re my parents. I love them. What, do you not like your parents?” 

Tony blinks. 

“Uh, no I love them. I guess. They’re just...busy a lot.” 

Rhodey doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t have time as Tony charges forth and asks if he wants to help him present a rocket for one of his clubs. 

Halloween comes upon them quickly, and Rhodey has a gigantic test to study for the night of. Tony’s been trying to convince him to come to a costume party with him for the better part of a week, and he was so close until the professor sent out a letter that essentially said, “Surprise! Oops!” 

So Tony does something unanticipated: he stays home. 

Tony, the life of the party who wouldn’t miss one for the world. Tony, the one who has been talking about how much he loves Halloween parties. He misses it. 

“Like you said, I probably don’t need to be at parties all the time,” Tony says. “And I can make you watch Dracula with me. You’re gonna like Lugosi.” 

“Who the hell is Lugosi?” 

“Oh my god, I’m making you do a monster-movie-marathon. I’ll rent every movie I can find.” 

Rhodey shakes his head. 

“Okay, but I probably won’t be paying attention tonight. I have to know the difference between a robust and gracile australopithecine.” 

“One begins with ‘r’ and one begins with ‘g’, now come on and make the popcorn.” 

Tony’s...the best part about him is that he’s himself. He’s loud and sometimes annoying and by god sometimes Rhodey wants to launch him out of a window, but Tony’s also incredibly kind and far more insightful than he ever wants to admit. 

They fall asleep surrounded by candy wrappers and a blanket that was definitely too small slung over (mostly) Rhodey. 

-

They get into a good routine, Tony and Rhodey. Rhodey brews the coffee, and Tony doctors it to his heart’s content. It involves a lot of syrups, creams, and sugars. The occasional terrible one, although everyone in Rhodey’s morning lab are jealous when they can smell his coffee. 

They go to lunch together, and Rhodey gets the salads and fruits while Tony gets the slices of pizza or hamburgers that they’re so fond of. They argue about philosophy and call each other idiots while stealing the popcorn chicken off of each other’s plates and coexist peacefully. 

It’s not until Tony has to leave for some conference that his parents want him at that Rhodey realizes just how much Tony has affected his life. He makes two coffees, almost calls out and asks if they’re still going to get takeout from that should-be-shut-down pizza parlor five blocks off, and realizes he’s all alone. 

Again. 

So he reads about Humphrey Bogart. 

He’s kind of annoying, all things considered. Guy got steady work being the villain/bad-guy type and wants more. It’s steady, what more is there to want? 

(His mind whispers that he just views it that way because he has no idea what he’s going to be doing in the future.) 

Back to Bogart. 

The guy is...kind of interesting. Kind of. He’s still not sure what he has in common with him. He’ll figure it out later. Maybe he can ask Tony for help. 

- 

Tony comes back in a whirlwind of emotion, almost all of it rage at his father. 

Rhodey sends him a look. 

“Shut up about how much your dad sucks and come with me to get food for the week. I had to survive off of hummus.” 

“My hummus?!” Tony shrieks. “The garlic?!” 

“Yes, I’ll get you more you gigantic baby,” Rhodey says. “Also, what do you think Humphrey Bogart and I have in common?” 

“An h, an o, an e, and a y,” Tony answers quickly. 

“Besides the letters,” Rhodey scowls. 

“Well I’d say you go to different barbers.” 

“No shit.” 

Tony looks at him, and really looks at him. Rhodey tries to forget how much he loves his eyes, the kindness that’s in them. 

"You both like important things,” Tony says. “And you commit to something when you decide you’re going to do it. Just think of the Great Burrito Event of ‘89.” 

“We’re still in ‘89, genius.” 

“Exactly, still important and still making history as we’re currently living it a day at a time,” Tony says. “Now come on, I need more hummus since you were a monster and attacked the fridge. What, you wanted to be Godzilla for a day?” 

"Not Godzilla, just have a power dynamic. Come on, grab the keys. Missed you this weekend.” 

“Aw, you do care!” Tony cheers. 

“I always care about you,” Rhodey answers. 

He misses Tony stilling at the door, feeling the words circle his head like a damned message from Cupid. 

(Yeah, he was going to marry Rhodey.) 

-

The holiday season and finals season coexist, which Rhodey thinks is a cruel joke played by God in order to let mortals know where their influence lies. 

He’s currently on his fifth cup of coffee in five hours which is most likely dangerous, unsure of if he’s actually seeing the correct numbers on his study guide, and about to blow a gasket if he looks at one more problem. But he has to. 

Tony doesn’t study. 

He’s of the rare sort that just...remembers, at least when it comes to his important classes. Out of everything he’s had to study, Tony actually had to study something about wine cellars in France, which he hated. 

“I’m making you come with me to get ice cream.” 

“I don’t have time.” 

He’s about to tear his hair out. Everything is riding on these exams, it seems. If he doesn’t do well on these, what are Mama and Dad gonna say when he comes home? What are they going to tell people? He made it to MIT, but he has to make it count. 

Tony is looking at him in that way that lets him know that he will get his way. 

“You’ve been studying for six hours straight. You’re not gonna learn anything new, and you’re about to cry because you hate stats so much.” 

“You’re wrong.” 

“You literally have a tear streaming down your face,” Tony deadpans. He crosses the room, wipes it away with his thumb. “Your coat is at the table towards the front, I’m giving you five minutes. And for the love of god, please put on your cologne. You smell like anxiety and anger.” 

“Those have scents?” 

“Apparently so.” 

The cold breeze is a refreshing slap to the face as he walks, hat tugged low. 

“It’s cold enough, why do you need ice cream?” Rhodey asks, teeth chattering. 

“Never too cold for ice cream.” 

“Says the boy who vacations in Malibu for Christmas.” 

“Told you that you could come. Not like Howard would notice.” 

“I’d rather not take that chance. Besides, I’d miss a Philadelphia Christmas.” 

“That a movie or something?” 

“No, it’s where I live you son of a bitch,” Rhodey teases. 

“I hate you,” Tony says, no real heat clipped to his tone. It’s a back-and-forth they have, all this name-calling and accusatory behavior. “I’m going to request a new roommate next year.” 

“Like they’d stick you with anyone else. Or would anyone else cover for the seven fires you’ve nearly started this year?” 

“Six out of seven wouldn’t have been fires.” 

“They would’ve.” 

“Says the man who doesn’t work at all with fire, but with graph paper. Do want your Christmas gift to be a pocket-protector, by the way?” 

“Oh fuck you.” 

“You wish,” Tony says, winking. 

He gets peanut butter chocolate. 

When they get home, he makes a bowl for Rhodey. 

“Your tests aren’t until noon tomorrow. Get some sleep, babe.” 

“And what, you’re going to get some too, honey?” 

(Pet names are also a thing. And also more favorable to both, although neither knows the other’s thoughts on this subject.) 

Tony grins. 

“You want both of us to sleep?” 

Rhodey and Tony have figured out a nifty trick: soap operas or Seinfeld. Whichever one is on, they’ll watch that and fall asleep on the futon, which should be as uncomfortable as any futon is. 

(They both think the temporary backaches are worth it to be in each other’s arms.) 

Tony drifts to sleep, although he makes sure that Rhodey’s first. He pulls him over to his side, head resting on his thigh. 

“You this forward with every guy you bring home?” 

"Only the cute ones,” Tony grins. “Come on, get comfy. You’re gonna get sleepy.” 

“Like hell I am,” Rhodey says. “You’re gonna fall asleep...first.” 

Rhodey falls asleep first. Mouth slightly agape, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. 

“Like hell you are,” Tony murmurs, adjusting the blankets. (They’ve upgraded to fancy hotel ones that Tony may or may not have stolen.) 

Rhodey will be okay. He just has to convince himself first. 

[assembledherethevolunteers]

The Nanny Named...

A/N: Hi all! So,it’s been a while. I have been in a real nostalgic mood lately and totally binged ‘The Nanny’. Annnd then all I wanted to was write a story about it. So I’ve been writing a multi-chapter story with Y/N as Fran and Gwil as Maxwell. I hope you all enjoy this prologue. Any feed back would be appreciated! And if you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Love you!

Pairing: Producer!Gwilym Lee x fem!Reader

Summary: You need a job after you walk out of your last one. Your friend sends you to an interview and it…doesn’t quite go as planned.  

Warnings: Cursing, some angst, and cheating

 You leaned over the counter, trying to make out what your boyfriend had written down for the specials for the night. Why couldn’t the man learn to write like an actual grown-up?

“Oooh, Y/N,” one of your best friends, Mel, came in. “Have you heard?”

“Heard what?” You replied, not looking up.

“J.C. and Erika? They just got engaged.”

That got you attention. You looked up at her. “Are you serious? They’ve been dating for what? Three seconds?”

Melanie laughed, taking her coat off. “I think closer to three weeks, but yeah. Isn’t that crazy?”

You sighed, looking back down at the notes. “To each their own, I guess.”

You were happy for them, on some level, but it was a bit hard when two people that you considered ridiculously obnoxious were engaged in less than a month but you and your boyfriend had been dating for almost four years and were still not living together.

“Think that’ll make Kurt move any faster?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing that will make him move any faster. We’ve talked about it countless times. He’s just happy right where we are.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

You huffed, not disagreeing. You had wanted to at least living together by now. Maybe not married (you still weren’t even sure if you wanted to get married), but at least the notion that the relationship was going somewhere.

“Maybe you should bring it up to him again,” Mel suggested as she tied on her apron.

You thought about it. Maybe you should. It had been a few months since the two of you had had any kind of conversation about it. Every year when your lease was up for renewal, you brought it up just to see if you should renew. And Kurt always told you ‘yes’.

“Yeah, maybe. But for now, I’ve got to figure out these damn specials he’s decided to jot down like a first grader after a lunch of cake and ice cream.” You grabbed the paper and then knocked on the door to his office. “Kurt!”

“Yeah, babe?”

You went into the office to see him staring at his phone. He glanced up at you for a second before going back to his phone.

“Hi, sweetie, can you decipher this chicken scratch for me?” You walked over and sat up on his desk.

Kurt sat his phone down, face up, and took the paper and squinted at it himself. “Uh…I…huh. Ribs of some kind. I’ll have to go look in the fridge quick. Be right back.” He pressed a kiss to your temple before getting up and leaving the office.

You swung your legs, waiting for him to come back, thinking about the dinner rush on the Friday night that was going to hit. But hey, at least the tips would be good.

And then you saw something light up on the desk.

You glanced down to see Kurt’s phone on full brightness. With a notification from Tinder. Saying Kurt had 3 new messages waiting for him.

You picked up the phone and stared at it, fighting back tears. You’d had a feeling something like this had been going on, but it was a totally different story when it was staring you in the face.

“Beef ribs are the special tonight.”

You stood up and shoved Kurt’s phone at him. “Great. Maybe whoever these 3 can serve it!” You stormed out.

“Wait! Y/N!” Kurt chased after you. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out!”

“Oh, fuck off!” You yelled at him, turning on your heel to yell at him. “This isn’t how you wanted me to find out!? What the hell kind of excuse is that?!”

“Can we discuss this back in the office?” Kurt offered quietly.

“No, because there’s nothing to discuss.” You untied your apron and threw it at him. “I quit and I am DONE with you! FOUR YEARS! I’ve wasted four years of my life on you in this stupid dying restaurant!”

“It’s not dying!”

You stared at him stunned. “That’s all you have to say? Four years down the drain and all you care about is this damn rat trap?!”

“It’s not a…!” Kurt took a deep breath. “You know what? Fine. Go ahead. We don’t need you around here!”  

“Obviously!” You screamed before grabbing your coat and stomping out.

You walked all the out to the street, hailed a cab, and got in the back. You gave the driver your address and then fell apart.

“Um…a…are you alright, dear?” The cab driver asked you, glancing in their review window.

You could only shake your head. “Okay, well, there should be a box of tissues under my seat. Help yourself.”

You reached down and grabbed the box, pulling out tissues. You blew your nose and wiped your eyes.

“Just put them in the trash when you’re done.”

You nodded your thanks, making a mental note to give them a big tip.

The rest of the time the two of you were silent as you tried to make yourself somewhat presentable so your roommate wouldn’t ask what happened. You were not in the mood to talk about it.

The driver pulled up to your building and told you the total. You paid and started to make your way out before they called to you.

“Whatever it was, I hope it gets better.”

You gave them a smile and wave before you shut the door and started to into your building. You ran up the stairs instead of taking the risk of running into a nosy neighbor on the elevator. You got into your apartment and collapsed on the couch. You started sobbing into your pillow.

How on Earth could he do that to you? Sure, the two of you hadn’t gone beyond dating but four years?! You had given four years of your life! Not just romantically but you’d worked your ass off to help with his restaurant. You’d hired nearly all of the servers! And three of the cooks! Who the hell was he to kick YOU out?

You woke up to your roommate, Olivia, coming home, not sure how long later.

“Y/N? What are you doing home? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You sat up, your entire face felt swollen.

“Oh, Y/N,” Olivia sat next to you and wrapped an arm around you. “Did something happen at the restaurant?”

You tried to explain what happened, but you couldn’t get the whole story out without bursting into tears.

“Oh sh, sh, honey,” she rubbed your shoulder. “I know. He’s a scumbag. I’m so sorry.”

You just nodded, crying into her shoulder.

“Do you want me to call Rosie and see if she’ll let some the dogs loose in the kitchen?”

You chuckled for a moment. “Think she would? I know she’s very attached to them.”

“Well, they are shelter dogs. They deserve a good meal.”

You pulled your head up and gave her a semi-smile. “You are the best person I know.”

“If only I was available to you.”

“I can love you better than Rosie can.”

“Yeah, but can you afford an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen like she can?”

You sighed, pretending to be defeated. “I guess not. I give you my blessing then.”

“I can run down to the bodega and get some wine and ice cream. I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

“Oh good, then get something for yourself.”

Olivia pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Great, I’ll be right back.”

You laid back down when Olivia stood up.

You and Olivia spent the rest of the night drinking, eating ice cream, and complaining about Kurt. It made you feel a little better.

At nearly one in the morning, you finally stumbled to your bed, hoping that you wouldn’t dream of Kurt, the restaurant, or anything to do with your love life.

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Y/N!” Olivia announced as she came home.

“Whaaaat?” you called back to her from the couch. You’d barely left it in the past couple weeks. You’d barely even left your apartment, if you were being honest.

“I think I’ve got you a job!”

You sat up and looked at her, somewhat skeptical. “Where?”

“Manhattan.”

“Oh,” you were surprised. Olivia had been trying to get you jobs, but this was the one that sounded like it might actually be promising. “What is it?”

“Rosie’s brother has a catering gig and needs a good waitress, but the homeowners want to interview everyone individually. They want you there at 3:30 for your interview.”

You jumped up. “Are you serious?!”

“One hundred percent!”

You threw your arms around Olivia’s neck and pulled her in for a hug. “Oh thank you thank you, Ollie!”

“Ooof. You better stop thanking me and get in the shower.”

You got on the subway to make your way up to Manhattan a couple hours later. You hadn’t been there since last year when a friend of yours had their 30th birthday party at some pretentious hipster bar. 

You kept glancing at the passing stations, hoping that this was going to work out. You could still hear your mother’s voice in your head telling you that you should’ve known better than to take a job at the man that you were dating’s place of work. 

The past few weeks, you’d been miserable. You had barely left the apartment besides your runs down to the bodega to get alcohol, ice cream, or the minimal amount of groceries that you could afford and actually wanted. Your bank account was screaming at you before you’d left the restaurant, so as much as you’d wanted to just wallow in your self-pity on the past four years of your life that you had wasted, you needed to get a new job. 

You got off at the correct station and walked up the stairs, stepping onto the streets of Manhattan. This part of the city always seemed different to you. Sure, you’d grown up in New York City, but it had been in Queens. 

You walked to the correct block and took in all the gorgeous buildings that were there. It sort of took your breath away, the way the trees were just starting to bud in the spring air. 

You nearly ran into somebody on the street and apologized, hoping they couldn’t tell how out of place you were. 

This was insane. Who in their right mind would hire YOU to work some cocktail party that was going to have people there that blew what you paid in rent on a quick trip to Macy’s? You thought about turning around and just heading home, but then you remembered that your bank account had about $15 in it.

As you walked down the street, you were hit with a strong smell of rose, jasmine, and vanilla. It was comforting and made you a bit more confident in yourself. Like everything was going to work out, regardless of how the interview went.

You glanced down at your phone, making sure that it was the right address before taking a deep breath and walking up the stairs to the front door. You knocked and then waited.

A man in a suit opened the door. He had black hair and kind brown eyes. He seemed unsurprised to see you standing there.

“Hello, are you here about the position?”

“I am.”

“Well come in, come in, Mr. Lee should be ready for you soon.” He ushered you inside, taking your coat for you. “Would you like me to drop off your resume to him?”

You hadn’t thought about bringing that.

“Oh, um…no, that’s okay. I’ll just…get it to him if he asks for it.”

The man raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything before he lead you to the couch and gestured for you to sit down.

You sat down and waited for him to return. Or for this mysterious ‘Mr. Lee’ to appear. You looked around, amazed at how high the ceilings were.

Suddenly, there was a scream from upstairs and the pounding of footsteps coming down.

“Help! Help! I’m hurt!” A little boy with dark, curly hair came running into the room. He collapsed right in front of you, his eyes closed and his tongue sticking out.

You looked down at him, trying not to laugh. “Ya okay, hun?”

The boy opened one eye, quickly shut it again, but didn’t say anything.

“Ah, Master Aled, I believe this is the third time today you’ve passed on. I’ll make sure your father and sister mourn the proper amount,” the man appeared again, stepping over the child and coming to stand in front of you. “Miss, Mr. Lee will see you in his office. If you’ll just follow me and please don’t trip over the expired, younger Master Lee. He’ll need to get up for his Little League practice in about thirty minutes.”

“James!” The boy, Aled apparently, sat up and glared at the man, James. “You ruined my plan!”

You stood up and the two of you walked into an office.  It was decorated with different awards, pieces of art. The hardwood on the floor matched the desk that was in the middle of the room. Sitting at the desk was a man writing something.

He had a dark, thick head of hair. He stood up, a pair of piercing blue eyes behind a black, horn-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a black turtleneck, gray suit jacket, and black pants.

“Hello, I’m Gwilym Lee,” he offered you his hand.

“I…um…hi,” you smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, James,” Mr. Lee told him. James nodded and started to leave the room. “Now, do you have your resume?”

James sent you a pointed smirk, before leaving the room all together and shutting the door behind him.

“Um…no, I don’t. Sorry, Mr. Lee.”

He frowned at you. “Alright, Miss Y/L/N. Well, tell me about your work history then.”

You cleared your throat. Rosie had neglected to tell you that the man you were going to work for was this handsome. “Well, I’ve worked in multiple, high class restaurants over the past ten years. I was working at my last job for nearly three years.”

Mr. Lee squinted at you, but you kept talking.

“And I’ve been a server, a hostess, and a bartender. I could work anywhere that you’d need me tonight.”

Mr. Lee took off his glasses and continued to stare at you.

“S…so, um…I can give you references if you need,” you finished lamely.

“Um…Miss Y/L/N, I believe there’s been a bit of a mix up.”

“Oh,” you replied, totally defeated. “I understand.”

“It’s just…this job is far too difficult to do without any experience and I think…”

“I mean, I…I have SOME experience.  I once served at the River Cafe,” you tried to argue.

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong…”

“Daddy!” A little girl came running into the room, seemingly in tears, and hugged Mr. Lee’s arm. “Aled said that there’s a monster in my closet and then he took and threw her in the closet to the monster!”

Mr. Lee picked up the girl and placed her in his lap. “Oooh Afon, sweetheart, I’m sure he didn’t mean to…”

“Yes, he did!“

“I did not!” Aled came running in too.

Mr. Lee sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Aled, please just go get the bunny out of the closet. I am in the middle of a meeting.”

“Fine, let’s go, Afon. Daddy is a veeeery busy man,” Aled grabbed his sister’s hand and took her out.

Mr. Lee just watched them leave, a somewhat longing look on his face before meeting your eyes again.

“Miss Y/L/N, this interview was for a nanny position for my children. You see, our last one just quit and I…I’ve been interviewing people for nearly a week now and…” Mr. Lee shook his head.  “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all my woes. I’ll have James see you out.”

Why had Rosie sent you here? If this was an interview for a nanny position you were WAY out of the running. You barely even liked the younger cousins that you had. Maybe you’d gotten the time wrong and they had meant to have the caterer interviews earlier in the afternoon?

You jumped up, an idea coming to your mind. “Ya know, Mr. Lee, I actually do have some nannying experience. I was a nanny for a family on my block every summer while I was in high school.”

It technically wasn’t a lie. You’d babysat for your neighbors. Once a week. When their mom had her PTA meetings. For about two hours.

Mr. Lee was shaking his head and standing up. “No, I couldn’t subject you to this. I’m very sorry. But if we ever need a caterer, I’ll keep you in mind.” He gave you a smile, coming around the front of his desk.

You sighed and stood up. “Well, thank you for taking this interview with me anyway,” you offered your hand again and Mr. Lee shook it.

“Of course, now could I escort you to the door?”

“I suppose so,” you told him.

Mr. Lee gestured for you to go through the door and followed you out of the room.

You were halfway through the living room when the phone rang. James, who had been wiping down the coffee table, quickly grabbed the phone off the hook. “Lee residence…yes…yes…oh how unfortunate…I will let him know…yes, thank you, goodbye.” James hung up the phone and looked at Mr, Lee. “That was the service. They won’t be able to send anybody tonight. They are booked solid.” 

“Oh no,” Mr. Lee rubbed his temples. “That’s totally unacceptable. What happened to that woman that we used last weekend?” 

“She’s refusing to come back. Something about a near death experience,” James looked over at Aled who sunk down behind the couch to hide. 

You hesitated at the door. Maybe this could be your chance. Even if he just used you tonight, as long as you didn’t kill the kids, you would get paid. And probably pretty well guessing on the house. You could at least offer, you supposed. 

“Um...Mr. Lee. If you need somebody for tonight, I’d be available.”

Everybody’s heads whipped around to you, all eyes wide, surprised. 

“Well,” Mr. Lee ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. “I don’t know. James, couldn’t you…?” 

“It’s my night off, sir. Remember? I’ve got my niece’s dance recital.” 

“Oh right, of course,” Mr. Lee looked you over, seemingly arguing within himself about what to do. “Look, Miss Y/L/N, I...I usually don’t do things like this, especially where my children are concerned, but I am...desperate. I’ve got a meeting with one of my biggest potential backers this evening and I need someone to watch my children. So, if you could…”

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” You pulled  Mr. Lee into a hug before you knew what you were doing. “You won’t regret this! What time should I be back here?”

“Before I change my mind,” Mr. Lee muttered.

You pulled away, laughing a bit, before you heard James say something about six-thirty. You then quickly left before Mr. Lee could’ve said anything else.

You practically ran to the subway, nearly giddy. You had a job. You FINALLY had a job! You were walking down the stairs when you pulled your phone out. You had four missed calls and fifteen text messages. Just when you were going to read some of them, it started to ring. You saw it was Rosie.

“Hey, Rose, what’s…?”

“Oh, thank GOD! Ollie, she’s okay. Where the…?”

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Olivia yelled in the phone.

“In Manhattan at the interview your girlfriend sent me!”

“Nooo, you never showed up to the interview! We’ve been calling you for almost an hour now!”

You frowned at that. Why were they so upset? Rosie had sent you to the interview, how was she so confused?

“What house did you go to?”

“The one Rosie sent me to,” you told her slowly, hoping she would calm down. “1781.”

“She says she went to 1781,” Olivia must’ve relayed to Rosie. “That’s what you told me!…Soooo, funny story. You were supposed to go to 1871. That’s where the catering job was.”

“It’s fine! I got a job anyway! I’ll explain when I get home, but I’ve got a job tonight!”

“What?...She got a job by going to the wrong house….I don’t know! She said she would explain it when she got home…When will you get home?”

“As soon as the subway will let me.”

The whole way home you felt like you were floating. You were hoping that you would at least get paid enough to buy some groceries.

How were you going to take care of two kids tonight though? They didn’t look that old. The boy, Aled?, seemed like he was about nine or ten. The girl, in the brief moment that you had seen her, seemed to only be about five or six. You supposed you could entertain them for a couple hours. Hopefully they had all the streaming services. Just stick them in front of the TV and wait it out.

You walked into your apartment and got tackled into the wall by Olivia.

“I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!”

You laughed and gave her a hug back. “I’m fine! You leave me here all the time to go to your girlfriend’s house, but me going into Manhattan scares you.”

Olivia pulled back and glared at you. “Whatever. Tell us what happened!” Olivia started to pull you towards the living room where Rosie was sitting on the couch. “Ronnie told us you never made it to the house and then you weren’t picking up.”

You went into the whole story of what happened. Explaining the kids, the mansion, the butler, and finally, the man that hired you.

“…name’s Gwilym Lee.”

“Wait,” Rosie sat up a bit straighter. “Gwilym Lee? The producer?”

You exchanged confused looks with Olivia.

“Oh, come on, neither of you know Gwilym Lee? He was like this huge producer at Disney. He’s been involved in all the Marvel movies.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeeeeeah, did you not see anything in his house that gave it away?”

“No,” you answered honestly. You hadn’t. You were sure that there was something that you had missed, but you were too worried about the interview and trying to get a job that you weren’t paying that much attention.

“And he’s going to trust you with his kids?”

You slowly nodded, suddenly much more nervous about tonight than you originally were.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Blackout (Edward Nygma x Reader)

WARNING: Mental Illness themes and mentions are strong throughout. Death!

"(Y/N)?" A nurse with a shrill voice said making you flinch and turn to face her. She was smiling, one that was rather malicious. That made you nervous as to what was her next words would be. "Doctor Strange wants to see you. I believe he has a new treatment for you." Your blood ran cold before draining from your face. 

Just about every patient at Arkham has figured out that those who catch Dr Strange's attention either never returned or were never the same. You felt pairs of eyes on you, some over hearing, just by the very mention of his name got everyone's attention. It was like being in a slaughter house and you had no doubt that such an environment wasn't helping your mental state. 

"No..." You said quietly, curling into yourself slightly as though it would change her mind.  "Come now, (Y/N), you've been so good this past week. Don't you want to get better?" The nurse moved a hand to your shoulders, her grip tight but not painful. "It won't be long. By the time you're done, it'll be time for dinner. That's very soon." You still didn't budge. The nurse's demeanor changed ever so slightly, a bit of aggravation tugging at her. "(Y/N), do you really want to undo all of the hard work you've done and lose day time privileges? You'll risk solitary confinement and things will be a lot more difficult for you. This treatment is happening whether you like it or not!" You knew you couldn't push any further and so slowly you stood up and the nurses attitude changed to the once again pleasant nurse who gently guided you. Before she could nudge you out the door, you halted turning back to look at the other inmates within the cafeteria. "They're not going anywhere." The nurse assured you with another soft tug. You complied. 

 "What's with that one again?" Edward raised an eyebrow watching just like everyone else had as you left the room. "Well they don’t know, they have many theories but there's always something else that’s unexplained." Jonathan said smoothly. "Something else?" Edward raised an eyebrow. "They are aware of everyone's surroundings, better than ordinary." Jonathan explained. "What?" Two-Face furrowed his brow and Jonathan sighed. "Think of Arkham as a doll house and every person is a doll, (Y/N) knows what everyone is doing, what's happening even when they aren't there, a spectator to real life." "How can someone know what's happening when they aren't there?" Harvey pressed. "Well...security cameras if they had access but that's the point, how can someone know what's happening if they aren't there?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Oh I get it!" Harley suddenly spoke up. "They don't! They imagine it!" Jonathan gestured to Harley sending a pointed look to Two-Face. "So they daydream? That's it?" Two-Face said gruffly. "No, Harv! They stare at everyone, watching us all day long so they predict what we would do and where we'd go!" Harley continued. Two-face shook his head. "They say I'm crazy." "Crazy... or smart, smarter than many of the crazies in here." Jonathan responded. "I personally would say they're in a better position than most of these meat heads." Edward said. "Wow, complimenting someone other than yourself Edward? Looks like your treatment is working." Jonathan smirked. Edward scoffed. "Hardly! It's not difficult to outsmart these dimwitted goons. It's not even a challenge! If anything they've barely proven that they've got more than one braincell!" Jonathan sighed in response but Edward continued. "Besides, I would know, I'm the smartest man in Gotham! If not the whole world." "Oh clam it, bozo!" Harley rolled her eyes. "Now, now Harley...the clown many be in solitary but keep your cool." Jonathan said smoothly. "So I can sit here I listen to the cucumber spout Riddles and call me a dumb broad!?" "No one is calling you such things Harley." Jonathan responded all the whilst Edward gawked. "Cucumber!? Seriously!?" "Hey! Check the facts yourself, you wear green, your green with jealousy half the time when Batman is around and you’re made of mostly water! Now who's the dumb broad!?" "Harley, again, no one is calling you that. No one doubts your intelligence, we only doubt how willing you are to use it." Jonathan finished. Harley huffed. 

You hurriedly looked around the room to find nothing out of place, the walls dirty and barely resembling the white painted walls. They hadn't been cleaned in at least a decade, grime filling every corner as well the random stains that likely had a grotesque story behind each one. No doubt the asylum blamed all of this on a lack of funding rather than admitting to Gotham city that the asylum isn't fit for purpose and hasn't been for years. 

Dr Strange sat at a steel table in the middle of the room that was big enough for two people to work at either side. A bulb hung down from the ceiling which no doubt would explode any given moment just to add to the worn down Arkham aesthetic. "Ah, finally we meet at last." Strange's voice gave you the chills. You didn't look in his eyes, keeping them on your now seated lap. "Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), yes?" You nodded. "I'm told you have been very well behaved over the week. You've been working on social boundaries of sorts, yes?" "Do you mean not spying on people?" You asked. "Is that what you'd call it?" "No. It's what the nurses call it." You retorted. "I understand you were in some trouble when you broke in-" Dr Strange began but didn’t get to finish. "I didn't break in." You interrupted. "The door was open and I didn't break anything." "Yes, you left everything untouched, but nevertheless, you know you can't be in the security room. What were you looking for?" Dr Strange asked. "You know that." You retorted. "I need to hear it from you." Strange pressed. " I wanted to see the security cameras." "Why?" "So I could see what people were doing." You said flatly. "Do you know why you care so much?" Slowly, you shook your head. "That's your job though, right? Your job is to help me figure that out and move on?" You replied. He seemed to think about this statement momentarily. "Indeed. For now though, we are working towards really understanding your mind to get an idea of a diagnosis. I see in your file that there is mentions of multiple possible disorders?" You shrugged slightly. "Although this wasn't confirmed due to your...obsession." Dr Strange finished. "Is that what they call it?" You asked lightly. "No." Doctor Strange said flatly. "That's what I call it."  Finally you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. "Dr Arkham missed the 'g' in 'diagnosis'." Strange looked at the file in his hand to realise there was that typo but wasn't certain how you could have seen it at such an angle. "Now, let's see about these blackouts." He began. 

Dinner had come and gone and you hadn't returned, not that it surprised anyone at all. The expectation was that if you did return, you were lucky. Even if you had completely lost your mind. 

 At ten thirty, the lights were always out, other than the very dim ceiling lights that were solely for staff to maneuver in and out of the corridors without disturbing the patients. Despite lights going out at ten every week night (and at ten thirty on weekends), patients didn't actually go to sleep at that time. The staff didn't seem to care, as long as they were in their cells. That made the routine rather redundant in terms of creating a daily routine for the patients. So ten thirty rolled around and a nurse was pushing a patient on a wheelchair, seemingly back to their cell. 

Harley wanted to have a look and recognised the patient. It was you, slumped over yourself and unmoving. Harley kept quiet, watching intently as you were wheeled past her cell. You were a lucky one. You had made it back here in the end. 

You woke up the next morning with a very bad headache. It reminded you of your blackouts but judging by your 'treatment' that was likely the cause. Your limbs felt heavy, your brain working on empty. There was many times that you stumbled over yourself on the way to the cafeteria. The same nurse from yesterday was in charge and awaiting your arrival as she moved her attention from Harvey Dent to you. She immediately tugged you to sit next to Jervis Tetch. Across from you sat Jonathan Crane and Harvey Dent. You jumped slightly when Harleen Quinzell no so gracefully sat beside you. However the nurse kept your attention in her with a wide almost menacing grin. "Good morning, (Y/N)!" She said brightly. "How are you feeling today?" She was too happy and by far too loud. Her voice grated against your ears, making you wince though the pain if your pounding headache. "My brain has exploded and my heart is racing like a train." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. "Oh is that so? Well, I'll get you some painkillers for that head whilst you have breakfast. How does that sound?" You grumbled with a nod, anything to get her to stop talking. 

As she walked away, you rubbed your aching temples, eager for some kind of relief. "Oatmeal and toast, it seems to be today...as usual." Harvey grumbled. "My puddin' still ain't here!" Harley scowled, making you wince slightly. "Hey, do that one a favour and don't make such a fuss." Harvey gestured to you, sending Harley a look. "Give it a rest for today won't you?" Harley rolled her eyes. "Fine!" She turned to look at you with a sweet smile. "Sorry, dollface!" You nodded. "Don't worry about it, Harley." You groaned, putting your head on the cold table. "That bad, hm?" Two-Face asked. "I don't even remember what happened." You grumbled against the table. "My hands hurt. My head hurts...everything hurts." The nurse caught Jonathan's eye, she was briskly approaching that sadistic grin still on her face. "Well, your saviour and your hell is approaching. Someone actually did get you something after all." Jonathan nudged your side. You groaned. "Maybe it's rat poison." "It's pills by the look of it." "Arsenic then." "Here you are, (Y/N) dear. For all of your cooperation last night and as well as your behaviour." You picked up the glass of water in front of you as she handed you two pills. You cast a quick glance at Jonathan who was also looking back at you. "C'mon arsenic." You mumbled, popping them in your mouth. Jonathan smirked. He understood, you weren't the only one who thought Arkham Asylum was worse than death and hell combined. The nurse grabbed your jaw, opening your mouth and making sure the pills were gone before she left you alone. "Why wouldn't I take the painkillers if I'm in agony?" You asked dumbfounded. Jonathan shrugged. "Probably checking you still have that initiative." Two-Face smirked. 

As trays of oatmeal were given out, you couldn't help but notice that whilst you had been sat with this particular group, one of them were missing. "Where's Edward?" You asked. "He's usually one of the firsts to get here." "He was put in solitary confinement." Jonathan said, making a look of disgust at the greyish, blob on his plate. "Solitary confinement? Why?" You asked. Two-Face shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe riddled one of the docs to death." He snickered. "He was taken for his own treatment, going crazy!" Harley grinned at the fond memory. "After some time, you were brought back to your cell and minutes later he was covered in blood and being almost dragged to Solitary Confinement." Harley explained. 

You couldn't help but notice that during this time, Jervis hadn't looked up from his lap, not even so much as glanced at his food. Although you had been around long enough to know that Jervis had some days like this. Perhaps running around in wonderland in his mind. You turned back to Harley. "Blood?" "Yeah, news has it that two guards were killed a few rooms down. I say good on him. No idea he had it in him! " Two-face responded. "Damn...and I missed it." You said eyes wide. "You were out like a light when I saw ya!" Harley giggled. "You could have been that bozo's puppet and never had a clue!" "Who's?" You frowned. "The-The puppet guy! Y'know, talks through that puppet. Scar-face? Damn what's his name!?" "Arnold Wesker." Jonathan replied. "Yeah, him!" Harley said excitedly. You turned to the other side of the room. 

You'd seen Arnold Wesker a couple of times but never actually spoken to him. Across from him was someone you were had spoken to many times. Peter Merkel Jr. Also known as Rag Doll. He was mostly known for being triple jointed, a contortionist. Well...rumour had it that being triple jointed ran in his family. A trait he didn't inherit and in the end, he supposedly had many life-threatening surgeries to allow his joints to move in inhuman ways. He could actually be a decent funny guy...once you got past his creepy communication skills. You turned back to the group around you. 

"Group therapy today, shit I forgot." Two-Face said suddenly. "How could you ever forget such a momentous occasion?" Jonathan said sarcastically. "It's you, me and (Y/N) in this one. If Edward is there, who knows. Don't know about who the others will be though." 

As each patient was situated in a seat within the circle of chairs, a guard approached you. "Hands out." He commanded gruffly as he took out hand cuffs. "Are you kidding me? For what?" You nodded to the cuffs as Dr Vern approached. He was one of the more patient and less brutal doctors who seemed to actually somewhat want to help patients, rather than torture them. Since observing that many times, you learned to somewhat trust him. Especially since he had treated you a couple of times and actually considered you a person. "It's just a precaution due to your therapy last night, (Y/N). I can assure you, it's nothing to worry about, they'll be off as soon as the session is over." He put a hand on your shoulder and you looked uncertain before showing your hands and wrists. You noticed Edward was getting the same treatment, looks like he made it out of isolation after all, even if it's only for a brief time. Although he was cuffed because he was in isolation and therefore deemed just as unpredictable. 

Dr Vern sat on the opposite side of you and at the top of the circle. "Alright..." He hummed to himself as other inmates began to settle, whilst he looked at his clipboard. "...we have Arnold Wesker, Peter Merkel Jr, Edward Nygma, Harvey Dent, (Y/N) (L/N), Jonathan Crane, Victor Zsasz ...Jane Doe and last but not least, Roman Sionis." He looked over everyone with a small smile. "How is everyone today?" "Is that a legitimate question?" Edward huffed. "Of course, it is. It's the whole point of these sessions." Dr Vern responded. "Honesty is encouraged, there is no wrong answers." "Well then, I've felt like crap all day and to top it off, I'm now handcuffed." You grumbled. "I know, (Y/N). As I said, it's only a precaution whilst we wait to see if your treatment worked. Please don't take this as a punishment, you've been doing so well as of lately." Dr Vern turned to his right. "Roman, how are we doing today?" "Everyone is wearing their masks today." Roman responded quietly, as though distracted, not entirely present in the room. "You've been keeping to yourself, more frequently lately. Are you feeling okay?" Dr Vern pressed. "Yes, doc. In truth there is nothing new with me. Although that shouldn't be a surprise when it's clear that I am not insane." "Yes, so you've said but unfortunately your results say otherwise. Psychosis, remember?" Dr Vern responded. Roman grumbled. "Whatever." "Forgive me, Doctor but I can't help but notice Jane is here." Edward narrowed his gaze on the masked woman across from him. "We all know she doesn't respond as herself and hasn't said a word since she's got here. So pray tell, why exactly is she in a group therapy session where the whole point is to talk?" Jane continued to look down at her lap as though she hadn't heard anything. Her mask covered her entire head. She had two, that were known, this one was Arkham's 'finest'- hardly of her collection. Accommodations were made for her after discovering she tended to become violent and otherwise catatonic without a mask. So whilst she was usually in a straight jacket, they kept the mask on, she was more cooperative with it. Arkham figures it would be a process that eventually shed no longer need the mask. You begged to differ. You were willing to bet that it's simply Arkham giving her exactly what she wants. She was good like that, you admired it. "Jane is more than welcome to these sessions, Edward." Dr Vern responded, almost scolding in his tone. "She is more than welcome to break her silence at any time and if being here encourages her then she'll have overcome a great milestone. Leave her be." Edward rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. Dr Vern looked towards Peter Merkel Jr, who wore a ghost of a smile on his face, all the while, his eyes wide. "Hello Peter, I haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing today?" Peters head flopped to Dr Verbs direction. "Hello, Dr Vern. I am doing just fine." His tone dripped in sarcasm. "I assume you are still in a lot of pain. Have you received those ointments today?" Peter hummed, rolling his shoulders further back than should be humanly possible. Then again, Merkel went through a lot of surgeries to make sure of that. "Yes, but only recently." "Ah, I see. Well, I'm certain you'll begin to feel better soon. What have you been doing since I last saw you?" Dr Vern asked. Peter hummed again. "Nothing. Staying in my cell. If not there-" Peters head snapped to look at you with his wide eyed smile. "- I've spent most of my time with (Y/N)." "I see. Are you two friends?" Dr Vern asked looking between you both. You shrugged. Peter responded. "Sure. Something like that. They are very intriguing." Dr Vern nodded as he scribbled on the clipboard, immediately you tried to see what he was writing, the cuffs making a clang. 

It was like an impulse, you had to know what he had written. Whilst you were excellent at keeping secrets, things went south if you were kept in the dark about anything, even the tiniest of details. Peter's grin widened in amusement and Dr Vern looked up at you. "It's alright, (Y/N). I'm just noting down what Peter has said. It's good progress for the both of you. If you two don't mind, might I ask Peter a question about this new friendship?" Your eyes narrowed but sat back on your chair whilst Peter agreed. "Peter, I hope you're encouraging (Y/N) to continue this good behaviour and not reduce it." Peter cackled. "That is your job, Doctor! I neither encourage one or the other. They appreciate my talents and I appreciate theirs." Doctor Vern didn't seem to like that answer much but continued. "(Y/N), why don't we move on to you? We have a lot to talk about." Dr Vern leaned forward in his chair. "You say you weren't feeling well this morning?" "Yes." You responded simply, shifting your wrists in the cuffs. "Describe it to me." Your face contorted as though remembering something suddenly. "What time is it?" Dr Vern caught on immediately. "I'll tell you after today's session, (Y/N). That's not important right now." "Yes, it is. I need to know." You insisted with slight panic. "No, you don't." Doctor Vern responded. "There's no need to be anxious, (Y/N). It's not necessary." "It is to me. You-you know that." You said shakily, fidgeting. "I'll strike you a deal, hold off for as long as you can, I guarantee by the end of the session you will know the time." Dr Vern responded. The distress was sudden upon your face, as you shifted against your cuffs. "Looks like the doc is gonna make them cry." Two-Face smirked. Dr Vern ignored him as your knees bounced with anxiety, looking almost uncontrollable. "(Y/N), focus of me." Dr Vern said soothingly. "I know why you want to know. The treatment has had you a little foggy and you've remembered about others outside of this room. You're trying to pin point where they are what they could possibly be doing. That's why you want to know the time. I promise you, you're stronger than the urge to know. You've not known all morning and everything is fine. Push through this urge." "Oh, now I get it." Jonathan thought aloud. "Put some volts in them and who knows what else you did to them last night and then torture them now. Very helpful indeed, doctor." "Jonathan, that's enough." Dr Vern looked at Jonathan. "You're agitating them." "Of course, they're agitated!" Edward said loudly with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think you'd take it easy on them after all that but no let's push them and wonder why they lash out! Morons!" "Both of you. Enough." Dr Vern said sternly. "You're encouraging them whilst I am trying to reason with them." 

Suddenly, your shaking stopped. You leaned back into your chair once more, oddly stoic. The shift was most definitely noticed by everyone in the room. "What's going on!?" Scar-Face snapped. "This'll be good." Two-Face smirked whilst Peter giggled with glee, eyes wide and unblinking. "It's between eleven and twelve. We haven't had lunch yet. Group therapy always happens at that time." You said quickly, answering your previous question. Dr Vern blinked with unease. "Alright, good. You've got your answer, now lets-" Suddenly, you spoke again, staring at nothing whilst your words came out rapidly."If it's eleven fifteen- the nurses will be going for their coffee break. Nurse Jill will be sneaking away with William Dean, the guard for the other ward probably for a quickie in the closet. If it's eleven thirty, Nurse Gillian will be preparing the next round of meds and wondering just where the hell Nurse Jill went." "Stop it." Dr Vern said quickly. Jonathan and Edward couldn't help but smirk at you but you didn't seem to notice anyone, lost in your own head. “If it's eleven forty-five, Nurse Jill will be hurrying back to her post before Doctor Strange leaves his office to head for the staff room for his own coffee. No milk, no sugar. Then he'll take a detour for the cameras, have a look at what we're all doing whilst Dr Vern rounds up today's group session, before Edward and I get the cuffs removed, we'll all be led to the cafeteria. Then Dr Vern will call his wife, and not get an answer, especially when his erratic patient reveals that his precious Sandra has been sleeping with the neighbour, fourteen blocks away. No doubt he'll rush home because he can't ignore what his patient said-" "(Y/N), enough!" Dr Vern snapped in anger whilst you finished your sentence "-even though he'll lose his temper at his patient." You finished in unison with Dr Vern's outburst. 

After a moment of silence, Dr Vern finally spoke. "You know where I live?" You smiled simply. "Of course. The security room isn't the only place I can get into. Dr Arkham's files are more than interesting to read. Although I'm certain he has just as many mental issues as the rest of us." "You've been sneaking in there too? Where the Asylum's files are kept?" Dr Vern asked. "Would you like to know the combinations for the locks?" You asked lightly. "You're asking for isolation, (Y/N)." He earned in response. "Am I? It says on your clipboard that I only get isolation if I black out." You shrugged. "I am perfectly conscious. Whilst I'm at it, that is not how you spell my last name." You said flatly. "See? Fun." Peter grinned at Victor Zsasz. "Now how about you don't put a recommendation in for another one of those nasty therapy you wrote down next to my name. My head is foggy as it is and I don't want to be a vegetable." You wagered. "So you can see what I've written?" Dr Vern stared you down. You smiled. "First, you can spell my name right, then you can score out that recommendation and then you can stop pressing me about every little thing I do or else I will do a lot more than prove how much I know. I'll also prove how I can use all of that really screw up your life."  Dr Vern's eyes narrowed on you. "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means, your life wouldn't be the first persons I've ruined. My family tries to keep that quiet, pay off anyone who will speak out but not even they weren't safe in the end." Dr Vern was quiet for a moment. "You were doing so well, (Y/N). We had really really hoped you wouldn't ruin all this good behaviour. So is this what you were doing last night? Spying with the security camera's again when you were supposed to be in bed?" Your face changed to confusion. "What?" "You were found out of bed with Mr Nygma last night. Have you been pretending all this time?" "I wasn't out of bed." You glared. "Ignore him, (Y/N)." Edward spoke up. "What do you mean I was out of bed!?" You glowered. "(Y/N), leave it." Jonathan said quieter. "No!" You said sharply. "You've already asked me about the incident and I told you what happened!" Edward glared at Dr Vern, ignoring your protest. "What happened!?" You snapped. "You and Nygma were found covered in blood last night." Dr Vern responded looking between the two of you, his pleasant demeanor long gone. "Two staff members were killed in that very room you were found in." "They deserved it!" Edward snapped. "They were hurting them!" "You expect anyone to believe that you defended (Y/N) and effectively killed those two people when you've shown almost no interest in (Y/N) before?" Dr Vern asked lightly. To his surprise, Jonathan responded. "I do. Your staff members are deplorable. I speak through experience on both ends. I think (Y/N) to be very lucky Edward was there." "Too right!" Harvey agreed. "The shit that goes down in this place is downright evil and that's coming from us!" Edward's jaw clenched. "Besides, (Y/N) was in an absolute state after that so-called ‘therapy’. They were wandering around and those two guards were going to take advantage of that. I would know since they were supposed to take me to my 'treatment' and suddenly (Y/N) wanders by and the things those men were saying... disgusting! I intervened the moment I saw that (Y/N) was beyond confused and dazed and instead growing distressed!" "Forgive me, doctor." Roman spoke up. "Isn't it Arkham's finest of staff's job to ensure the safety of all patients?" "Of course, it simply adds to the poor reputation of this place that they simply do not. So much so that other patients have to step in." Jonathan responded with a smirk. Your gaze was locked into Edward as you struggled to believe the story. 

He was narcissistic at the very least and didn't spent much time on you. Edward Nygma just didn't strike you as the saving type and you would have known if that was the case. 

You were waiting for Edward at this point to come out of isolation. You had asked almost every one Edward spoke to in the asylum. No one seemed to know anything and even confirmed your suspicions, Edward wouldn't just jump in to save an inmate but for whatever reason Edward had to lie, they'd support it. 

When Edward got out of isolation it was like a tease, you barely saw him, Arkham staff doing it's best to keep you apart. However whilst this was irritating, it got to a whole new level when Edward’s associates seemed to know exactly what had happened and weren't willing to share. Just the thought made you tremble, that Edward and his friends knew what really happened that night...and you didn't have a clue. 

You usually had taken satisfaction when Dr Vern handed in his resignation, he had to now that he knew how much you knew about his life. However, you noticed how disheveled he was and it dawned on you he must have confronted his wife. Dr Vern couldn't ignore such accusations, you knew that. It would have chewed away at him but you didn't get to enjoy the satisfaction. Not even when he glanced at you with unease when quitting. You couldn't enjoy it because your own thoughts were chewing away at you. You needed to know what happened that night and the longer you didn't get answers, the more drastic measures you'd take. 

By Saturday morning, you couldn't take it anymore. Perhaps it was a lack of sleep, or indigestion...or it was the question that had been tearing you apart for days. You knew you'd have to force Edward to talk. He was incredibly intelligent, he didn't slip up or give things away like the others did and in that moment, it simply drove you mad. 

When Edward locked eyes with you, his stomach dropped. To put it simply, you didn't look well. Clearly you hadn't been sleeping, there were dark circles under your eyes and you slightly curled into yourself, as though barely having the strength to hold your body up. Edward also couldn't help but wonder if you had been eating. From what he had seen you were in a foul mood, nearly getting yourself isolation multiple times. Each time Edward, Jonathan and Two-Face got you out of it. 

"Alright (Y/N), you can calm down now. Jervis picked up your book by mistake." Edward had said once, sliding the book towards you before you could get into serious trouble with the nurses. It seemed to distract the nurse more than it did you and his action, yet again caught you off guard. 

The second time he set off Harley, distracting the nurses, all because he insulted the joker who had still not gotten out of isolation. 

Your piercing stare could have surely killed him if he hadn't been across the room. He knew immediately that you were hitting your breaking point and so when you stormed off, he followed. 

You led him to an empty lab. A lab with no camera. That left Edward on edge but held onto the fact that you were still very much coherent. The empty glazed over look in your eyes like that night was far away. "Do you know that I killed two people in a blackout once?" You asked, your back still towards him. "Yes." Edward responded. 

Many Arkham patients had murdered. So much so that two was virtually nothing in comparison to the number that many inmates had, Edward included. "Do you remember when I first got here?" You asked. "Yes. You weren't responsive for four days. The one that got you to break your silence was Dr Vern." You were impressed although not so surprised that Edward knew so much. Of course he knew. "I couldn't believe what I had done. When they told me my father and stepmother were..." You looked over your shoulder. "They put me in here, undiagnosed as well as not knowing a motive as to why I'd ever murder my father and the one woman who had been the closest thing to a mother I had ever had." You blinked back a memory. "I don't know why they painted such a picture that those two were so wonderful. They weren't." "Reporters and the justice system love their innocents." Edward replied in disdain. "My parents weren't innocent. If the GCPD looked a little further. They'd have known the motive." You finally turned to face him. "Why?" Edward asked. "Because they deserved each other." You responded icily. "They were committing fraud, wanting the extra money and expected me to play along regardless of how nice they were to me. They began to put their problems on me, expecting me to fix them. They never thought about what that could to do their kid." You swallowed. "Every mistake they made, I was blamed. To the GCPD I was a difficult child, it wasn't that my step-mother was trying to steal multiple bottles of alcohol and convinced me to carry them in my bag. Every single time, my parents chose each other, every time it was at my expense and I never got even as much of an apology. That's what I was there for. To hide their mistakes, I was to play the problem. So I accepted that. I accepted this is what they wanted, what they deserved. It hadn't been the first black out I had but it was the most brutal. Their bodies were side by side." Your gaze met Edwards eyes. "I couldn't forgive myself when I found out what I had done. I didn't speak a word after that, not until that day after some time here. Dr Vern was the first, as you said. Look where that got him." You couldn't help but smirk. "I actually liked the guy but, I knew where his loyalties lie." Your smirk vanished, your brow creasing. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I don't know what happened that night Edward but you do and you lied to Vern, you lied to Strange and you're lying to me. You're getting your friends to do it too." "(Y/N)-" You cut Edward off. "No!" You said sharply. "I want the truth. I need it. You're going to give me the truth." 

Edward stayed silent. "Damn it, Edward!" You snapped, digging into a drawer behind you before pulling out a very large syringe. "Don't do this." Edward said lowly. His hands raising slightly to calm you. "You know something I don't!" You snapped. He thought this over. "I know many things you don't." "You know what I mean!" You yelled. "You didn't care before. Why now? What changed? Are you using me?" "No...no, I'm not." Edward said. "Then what is it!?" You cried. "Put that down and I'll tell you." Ed nodded to the syringe in your hand. You looked at the syringe before back at him as he hesitantly took a step closer. "Give me the syringe and I'll tell you." "You won't lie?" Edward shook his head. "I have no reason to." 

After a couple of seconds you dropped the syringe and it clattered to the floor. Edward immediately lunged, taking your hands and pulling you into his arms. You gasped, panic setting in. The Riddler was one of the most dangerous people in Gotham and he could kill you in a heartbeat. Although it took you a moment to realise that he was simply holding you to him, almost like an embrace. A quiet voice, almost a whimper escaped him. "They were hurting me." He began and you heard a slight quiver in his voice. "They were hurting me and you helped me. I know you don't remember that night but I do." 

Edwards plans for the night didn't include electric shock therapy. Regardless if it was Arkham's so he kicked and screamed creating a fuss along the way. The more he struggled, the more assistance was needed. He had even caused a few other patients to cry out from their cells, a minor but pestering bother for Arkham staff. 

By the time they reached the room with the chair, the guards had enough and immediately surrounded him for a beat down. Edward curled into a ball, covering his head and ribs as much as he could as doctors and nurses hurried away from the room. Typical. 

Suddenly there was a yelp that didn’t come from Edward, everyone seemed to freeze, Edward looking up to see what had happened. One of the guards were stunned, frozen in shock, staring at the other guard who looked horrified. In his neck was a syringe of what was previously a sedative for Edward. The thumb pressed down, plunge the contents into his neck. A laboured breath escaped the guard before he fell to the ground before Edward, who was slightly alarmed and wondering just how strong that sedative was, if it even was that. The hand had been yours, eyes glazed over and very still. 

Without warning, as soon as your eyes locked on the other guard, you lunged towards him. He had no time to process what had happened or even prepare himself for the attack. He fell to the ground, you on top as you ferociously beat his face with your hands. Your strength was astounding and it was the clearly why you were such a threat. You were like an deranged animal, it wasn’t enough even when he was out cold. Edward wasn’t even sure if the guard was still alive. However, you moved onto the next guard just as quickly. Perhaps you hadn't noticed him. 

He stood corrected when you halted your attack and turned your sights on him. Slowly he stood up, wincing at the pain in his ribs. You followed suit, your eyes still wide and empty. Slowly you moved forward. Edward went to move back but something blocked his path. He felt panic run through him but did his best not to show it. Something he often did with the Bat. Although you didn't lunge, as a matter of fact you were incredibly slow.

You seemed to notice his pain. Edward stiffened as you slowly wrapped your arms around him. You were so gentle he didn’t even entirely feel the hug. He looked down at you, your head resting against his chest. You were looking at the ground as though feeling guilt. In that moment, Edward took charge. ”Give me your hands.” He said quickly. He did his best to wipe the blood from your hands and onto his own as well as his arms. Edward always did have a soft spot for you. He never allowed it to show but he couldn't deny it to himself that it was there. So in the moment you had saved his life, he knew he had to protect you. No one had ever helped him yet you had, whether it was consciously or not didn't matter. If he didn't do something you'd wake up in isolation with possibly even more deaths. 

Edward knew you better than you thought, killing wasn't something you were proud of. You didn't want to add more to the list. So maybe in this way, he was protecting you just as you had protected him. Edward also noticed something that seemed to trigger your violent tendencies. It was violence itself. If you witnessed it, it seemed to drive you to be violent to the point of deadly. So he took the fall for it and eventually, they seemed to buy his story and take you back to your room. Throughout all that time, you didn't speak a word and the next morning you didn't remember a thing. Just as suspected. 

"I couldn't tell you." He said, looking into your eyes. You had never seen him so vulnerable. "I couldn't risk Strange finding out. It was better for you if everyone thought it was me." "Why? Why protect me?" You asked. "Because you protected me...such a thing is very hard to find in Gotham." "I...I killed those people." You whispered and Edward nodded. "You saved my life." He corrected.

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 21: Feckless

Content Warning: Torture, Intense Psychological Warfare, Body Harm, Physical and Emotional Abuse It was just supposed to be getting his money back. That was all he wanted out of the woman. But oh, how quickly it had turned to seeing some of the purest forms of red Esredes was capable of seeing. Being pickpocketed in Ul'dah was to be expected to happen eventually- inconvenient that it occurred while he was trying to get supplies for his family, but just a detour to follow the woman into a more secluded space and request his money back. No big deal. He had his ability to cloak himself with an illusion, and so she didn't see him following her down past that door behind the Miner's guild and into an alley. He watched her begin to count his money with a smile on her face and a whisper of "Oh, yes." Just a common pickpocket. No need to escalate anything. "All right, little lady." He began, the illusion still disguising him, causing the woman to freeze and look around trying to locate his voice. Just to make it worse, he began pacing all around to make it more confusing as he spoke next. "Cute. Real cute little move you pulled back there, but I have places to be and so do you, no? Just give it back without trying anything and I'll leave. I'd rather not have anything unpleasant happen today now." "Who are you and what little move?" The woman hissed and tightened her hold on his gil pouch. "Don't play dumb with me, ma'am. Give me my gil back, please. Just toss it out in front of you." "This? Mine from the start," she retorted as she closed it up and put it away, then dashed past him and tried to run away. Esredes raised his hand up and fired a pink beam at the retreating woman's head without a second thought. The woman cursed sharply and she doubled back as her balance faltered, sliding a dagger out of her pocket to slash at the air. "What the hell are you?" With ease, Esredes moved behind her and rammed his sword handle into her upper back. She grunted and stumbled forward, then fell to the ground, the dagger clattering on the stone a good two feet away. She didn't get much time to struggle to get up before he knelt down and pinned her body under his legs, his sword arm securing her at the back as well. "For fuck's sake, Priya." The woman muttered under her breath as she found herself trapped. "Someone who wanted to mind his own fucking business and ask you nicely not to waste our time." Esredes finally answered her question as he retrieved the gil pouch from her pocket. The woman tried to fight back under his weight, but she was getting nowhere. She lashed a hand out to bat him away from her pocket, but Esredes lengthened his hand to form claws and slashed at it, and she tucked it back inside herself as he pushed down more with his sword. "You know, is it not a rule of thievery to fold it when you've bitten off more than you could chew? You'd do best to learn it." "As if you'd know," she spat out. "Leave me alone; it isn't like you'd need any of it!" "I was completely content to leave you alone before you pickpocketed me, thank you very much. And you don't know anything about me, little lady, so fuck off with that. You're not giving me any incentive to not report you right about now- what did you call yourself? Priya? Pretty name for a vicious little rat," Esredes remarked. "If you've eyes, this city doesn' do handouts." Esredes paused, her reply passing him over. Priya... why did the woman's name sound faintly familiar? Enough to bug him even through his tendency to forget names? It had to mean something, be from somewhere, but he didn't know a lot of people from Ul'dah... But someone he had interacted with a lot recently did, and... Esredes' eyes widened. Yes, it had been Elouan who mentioned that name to him during their most recent therapy session. The name of an ex of his who had beaten him for not making her enough money. Just a common pickpocket. Now she was also the woman who hurt his sunflower. "...Say, you must do this a lot, hm? Trying to get your way into money by any scummy means possible? Do you remember Elouan?" Priya froze at Elouan's name, but soon shifted into a smile that did not ease Esredes in the slightest. "Elouan? Dumber than a rock? What, isn't he dead?" "My gods," Esredes said. So it was true. This was the same woman and not a coincidence. The black heart in his chest pulsed hard, and dark, inky matter quickly spread through his insides. He moved his sword hand up and hit her on the side of the head with its handle. "I thought you were a simple thief, but no, you truly are a disgusting little parasite under there, aren't you? Shut the fuck up about handouts, I know what this city is, but you don't deserve them even if they existed. I show no sympathy towards an exploitative and manipulative abusive little monster like you. Oh, today is not going to be your day, little monster lady." He never did change his other hand back down- in its full display of rough and leathery skin she couldn't see, he wrapped it around her throat and pressed lightly. "Have you any idea how much you have to answer for?" Priya let out a soft noise and struggled much more aggressively now, clawing at the leathery hand with her own. "Hh--Answer? I'm answering to nothing. Call me what you want, I don't care. If you're calling me a monster, what're you?" With no eyes to find, she couldn't make eye contact, but she still shot quite the devilish look. "So he isn't dead, is he? Such a shame; I thought the 'yotes outside of Ul'Dah got him! It wasn't like he was worth much with the bets..." The inky matter only kept spreading. "He's worth far more than your pathetic, greedy little ass will ever be. But you wouldn't know anything about the worth of people because all they are to you is an ends for money, hmm?" He drew a line of blood across her throat. "I should fucking kill you. No one would be around to even notice your corpse or look for you, would they, hmm?" The woman laughed, even despite the pain. "You should? What's stopping--? No, who's stopping you? Elouan? That dumbass? Have you ever seen him come back from a loss down there? Do you know what it's like to not have any gil? Anything?" She spat at him and continued trying to fight, but his grip remained iron. "Shut the fuck up." Esredes ran his blade lightly across her forehead. She moved her hands to the ground and tried propelling herself up, but she couldn't even upset his balance. "To answer your question? Yes, I do. That's no fucking excuse to beat a man up who is willing to mutilate himself and risk his life for a woman who doesn't even consider him above maggots. He loved you because he didn't know better, didn't want to accept the evils of people, and you felt nothing." Her body tensed up and her eyes became even more hostile. "You don't have anything, no, a heart or any redeeming qualities included. You're a street rat who deserves to writhe in filth, because no part of you deserves even a single piece of gil! And to answer your other question?" He decided now was time to flicker back into existence before her eyes, his pupils compressed to slivers and sharp teeth grinning as he leaned in close to her face. "Well, if no one will find the body, I suppose nothing at all is stopping me, hm?" "He wasn't worth it. You're all talk and you still hesitate," she snickered at him. "You're still hesitating because of him, aren't you? Because you're just as weak. He wasn't fit to live long, y'know. Probably still isn't, too." "Oh, I'm not hesitating because I'm weak," Esredes smiled and pressed back hard against her struggle attempt with his sword and body, leaning even further in. "I'm hesitating because you're not getting off that easy after all you've done." He pressed harder on her throat and dug his thumb claw into it harder. "We're only getting started here. No one has made you answer for what you've done to him, and I am so glad we could meet for the occasion, unexpected as it is. Tell me, do you think you look good in red?" There was barely the shape of a creature below him by this point, just red. He ran his claws down her face, he ran his blade down both of her arms, he slapped her, all while taunting her about what a pathetic creature she was. "Get OFF," she soon shouted. "Oh, I'm sorry, you want me off?" His eyes widened for her. "Did you listen when Elouan asked you that, hmm?! Did you stop hitting him for things that were your fucking fault?!" She bit her lip and clenched her fists, shaking. "My fault? Who was the one that lost bets? Who was the one that just had to stop because it was 'too much'? Me? No; it was him!" There was venom in her words, and a lot of it. "One hit wasn't enough for him and you know that, don't you? You have to keep drilling it into his fuckin' head. He couldn't even find his way to the aetheryte even if he was fifteen fulms from the thing!" Esredes almost couldn't believe the things coming out of this rodent's mouth. "You're fucking disgusting. And wrong, on top of that." He hit her with his sword handle again. "No, your problem is that you're an impatient, selfish little aggressive piece of shit. If you actually had an ounce of patience and kindness that wasn't faked to all hell, you'd know the man can listen and learn quite fine if you explain it to him well enough. But you're not capable of that because you're not smart enough for such things and you don't actually bother to learn a thing about how people actually work. Maybe if you had the consideration outside of yourself for it, you wouldn't be stuck here pickpocketing people like a street rat, hm? People don't bend over for vicious worthless scheming selfish lowlives like yourself. You will never get anywhere in life. You cry so fucking much about how you have nothing, but in all your years of exploiting and robbing people, you still have absolutely nothing. I don't think you have anyone to blame but yourself at that point. You will die filthy, worthless, and alone, and no one is going to miss the dirt on the side of the street. Now, how many hits will it take for you to get it into your head, hm?" He punched her once. Twice. Three times. Four times. The last punch managed to make her wheeze, and she shut her eyes. "When is ever enough for you?!" "...enough," she said at last. "Enough!" His fist was raised for another blow, but he grinned at hearing the word out of her. "Ah. She did it. She is capable of having enough." He laughed for a solid few seconds. "For the first time in your life, something is enough. How does it feel, hm?" She wrinkled her nose, and tried to muster one last kick, but couldn't even. She said nothing, reaching up to try and pull his hand off her with trembling hands. Esredes took her hand and held it up by the wrist, staring at it. "Look at it. So weak, so small, so pathetic. If you'd held on to someone like Elouan and actually loved him, he'd protect you from something like this, you know. As is, you're not strong enough to protect or help yourself alone. And you never will be. You're a cold, vulnerable little lady in a harsh world, and your only response is to make it so your own existence has no justification for itself."

He wasn't done. He wasn't anywhere near done yet. He kept on going, tearing into her with more wounds. He even took his little pair of scissors he used to cut his emergency supply of gauze and cut away at her hair.  She kept helplessly trying to fight back, kept trying to scream at him to stop or go away. "I'm not going anywhere yet, little lady." He eventually said, grinning as he ran a clawed finger down her face. It was gentle enough not to draw blood, and she shivered under it. "Because I am your nightmare, I am the harbinger that comes for naughty little ladies who need to be a taught a lesson about the cruelty of their own heart." He then slapped her again, and continued cutting her hair. "You want to be a cruel and heartless beast to people who don't deserve it? Well, tell me, is it worth it? Is it worth it to sit here trapped in a reflection of your own cruelty and be content to bleed out in the darkness?" "Why should I talk about worth with you?" The venom and bite of her words had gone; she no longer had the energy for it, it seemed. It wasn’t long before she even started producing tears in her eyes. "Aww," Esredes said in a low, mocking voice. "Does the beast want to cry now? Cry like you made Elouan do countless times? It didn't mean a damn thing to you. Your tears are nothing to me." “I don’t care,” she said in a low and rough voice. "Don't care about you 'n what you say." "Then why are you crying?" "I'm not crying." Tears were treading down her cheeks. "Lady, look at your own goddamn face. You can't even hold it in. Is this too much for the poor little snake to handle, hmm? You're breaking this easily? And to think, Elouan survived multiple beatings from you, and you can't even handle this. Who's supposed to be the weak one again?" "Just shut up!" She croaked in a broken voice. "Shut up! This is pointless! Leave me alone. You've got what you wanted. You've gotten more than what you wanted already," even when she shut her eyes, the tears did not stop. "This is not enough." Venom dripped into his voice. "This is nothing to what you did to him. You can wish for it to stop all you want, but that never helped him, and it's not going to help you, either. Cry all you want, it only makes this all the sweeter. You get everything that you deserve." "He's just another pet of the sands, don't you see?“ The woman said through her shaky voice. "I thought I'd be better with more than what the trade offered. I couldn't start off without--without that." "And? And? That gives you free reign to crush his heart and body for not doing every little thing perfectly for you? When this man was willing to give you all of his love and torment himself far too much for you? You know, pickpocketing a man with a voice like mine? Fair enough, I know what city I walked into. But that? That as your excuse to be cruel in pursuit of money? No. No. Here, little lady. Answer me one little thing. Do you do all of this alone, in the true sense? Do you ever have a person to your name who isn't a tool you discard?" She finally opened her eyes again, staring at her hair on the ground. "Alone? Why'd I do it with anyone else? We're all just tools for anyone else to use--you either climb the ladder or get stuck in the lion's den. He was--he was too fuckin' much! His whining, his talking, his forgetfulness. All I wanted was gil for myself 'n business. Not the thing behind it." It wasn’t every day Esredes held true evil in his hands, trapped in his talons like a snake to an eagle. But hearing her twisted explanation only further caused his heart to rage in hatred. "Good. Fucking. Lord." He said. "People like you are the kind I despise the most. Your entire philosophy is so fucking stupid at its core, and all of you claim it's the most intelligent thing ever. I'll tell you a little story. I too have had absolutely nothing at multiple points in my life." On he went snipping her hair as he talked. "Do you know how you get away from having absolutely nothing? Yes, you have to have sharp skills of self reliance and the ability to climb out yourself, but you can only get so far on your own. You need, and I mean truly need, other people in order to truly build yourself up past a certain point. This is why types like you either never make it or end up dead eventually when someone else brings you down. You only make your own life harder by approaching people so selfishly without anything to add to it. People will see right through you, they'll tear you apart without sympathy or mercy, because you don't offer anything to last with people beyond the short term. If you don't blow everything in the short term with other people, and they aren't people like you, you get rewarded for being good to them. People are more willing to help you out of bad situations without you needing to do a thing because they remember when you were there for them, therefore becoming much more viable and sustainable than a one time deal you blow and suffer the consequences. You really think the world is going to bend to your greedy little will because you want money? No. It won't. It doesn't fucking care, and you know this. Lady, I don't know why I have to be the one telling you this with how smart you think you are, but here's a simple lesson on how people work. People talk. People complain. People forget things. People are not perfect little devices for you to drain gil out of, they are incomplete and flawed things trying their best. And people aren't very useful if you can't follow the basic law of economics and make a fair trade. You'd think growing up here, you'd understand this. Now, my point is, I was alone with nothing. And now? I have enough that you don't want to know the number of people who fear me, little lady. I didn't get this way by draining gil out of people like a vampire. I had to give something of myself, I had to sacrifice, I had to bleed for other people first, but people don't forget what you do for them, or to them. Each person you meet is a powerful weapon in their own right, a valuable resource beyond just money they make. And only a fool would discard such power. You're just a weak, stupid little thief who will never make it because you don't even understand what it takes to get out of your situation. You'll forever be in the den because you fall off the ladder every single time. There is a place to be vicious, there is a place to be kind. But you wouldn't know the difference if it held you down and punched you repeatedly in the face. I truly hope you never make it in life. The world doesn't need more people like you. Your kind can only drain the world of its resources and make it a worse place, all while declaring that the world is the evil one. Well have you ever fucking thought of being something that isn't so deserving of the world's evils? Because here you are now, bleeding out and crying, while Elouan is somewhere safe, having escaped, and is much happier because he's with people who appreciate his kindness for what it is. You have nothing for others to see. No one will ever lift you up off of here, because you'll never, ever deserve it." The woman laid there and absorbed his verbal blows, still too weak to fight back in any way. Tears still streamed down her face. "So what if I don't deserve it? I don't care. I don't care, I don't want to care, I just--" "You just what, lady? What is it? What is it you want to scream out right about now?" Priya gritted her teeth and out came a strangled cry. "--I don't want to be here. I don't want people around me or in m'life. I don't want anyone close to me! I don't want to be hurt like I've hurt them. I just want to be.  Be dead? Fuckin' fine, do it already!“ "Is that seriously all you want from life? To be alone with money?" "What else? Money can't hurt me like they could." "Wow." Esredes said. "Just wow. You know, popular sayings exist for a reason. People who are alone with money are some of the people most likely to drink themselves or take drugs into dying. I grew up in Ishgard. Everyone in the noble circle has money and guess what? We're all still fucking miserable and want to die, broken empty shells of people. People still treat you like trash and shit no matter how nice you look and how perfectly polite your tone is. You still die empty and unfulfilled and ultimately meaningless. ...But you know this in some capacity, don't you?" He leaned down close to her face again, and she shut her eyes. "Is it not just because you want this to stop that you keep trying to taunt me into ending you, hmm? Are you sick enough of festering in your own shallow existence that you want to just spare the world the burden of you?" “You already know the answer, don’t you? I’ve got nothin’ to my name or kin! Why keep me around if that’s all I have, aye?” "Exactly. There's no reason at all." He smiled. "If I gave you your dagger back, would you be able to do it, hmm?" Priya kept sniffling. She opened her eyes and they landed on her dagger, past the scraps of her hair. "It'd be the one good thing you ever do in your life." He continued on. "You'd finally give back to the world, as your corpse decays and the nutrients can be absorbed to go to things more deserving of them..." “Stop talking,” she mumbled yet again. But Esredes only grinned. "Just think about it. No more waking up in pursuit of your empty desires. No more pickpocketing and feeding on scraps. Just the sweet embrace of nothing washing over you, finally an end to all the suffering. You won't be weak anymore. You won't have to feed for more, and more, and more... you will finally have enough." “I said stop.” "You'll never make it. So why keep trying? You're not smart enough to make it, you're not clever enough. You don't have what it takes. All you'll ever do is prolong your own agony, stuck in the same cycle, over and over and over... is that really a worthwhile existence?" “Stop it! Stop talking! I’ve enough of this and, gods, just stop.” The woman managed to shout, but it so quickly became shaky, weak, and small once more. "You keep telling me to stop because you know I'm right. You just don't want to admit it." He took the final strands of her hair and positioned the scissors around them. "One moment, you're here, writhing in your own filth, and the next..." Snip. She hissed. "Release. Catharsis. Nothing." He held the hair out to her to look at. "See, you have a golden opportunity. No one cares about you. No one will notice if you die. You have no burdens tying you down to this earthy plane, you can release yourself like a balloon and fly. Wouldn't that be so wonderful, to see the sky...?" “I won’t see shite,” she retorted with certainty, stretching her arm to try and reach the dagger, only for Esredes to move it further away with a rock. "Alas," he said. "If you do it later, I won't stop you- but for right now, it's not time yet.” He threw the hair to scatter about the tunnel. “All this talk for not yet? Bullshite!” "You're not deserving of a quick death, dearest. No one with a heart as cold and empty as yours is." It would still be some time before he finally let her go. Tied up and unable to escape the tunnel with that pouch of opioids on her- a perfect trapped creature for the local authorities of Ul’dah to pick up. It was not enough. He couldn’t make it enough no matter how little he held back, and he knew it. Nothing would make up for what she did to his beloved Elouan. He would never completely understand the local parasites of the world that pretended to be human like her. Why were they all so content to live a destructive life focused only on themselves? Were they so wrapped up in themselves they couldn’t notice how boring they were, how little and shallow of an existence it was? They would go on, intimidating or charming those around them to feed their selfish empire- but at their core, they were weak nothings, and Esredes saw them for what they were. “Sorry, it was very crowded at the market today. I couldn’t get everything.” Esredes said to his parents later. “I’ll get it all in the morning before I leave. It should be much easier to navigate…” ——— @shieldbcund Priya, Elouan

[daredevil-1910]

Sorting

"Sir, are you telling me that this official document with information that hasn't only been given to me but other kids as well, is wrong" I cannot believe how hard it is to get information around here

"I'm telling you kid, there is no platform under 9 3/4" once again this guy chooses to not help, me what’s wrong with him.

"I honestly can't believe the incompetence some pe-"

"Benjamin Doyle, get over here and stop talking to the nice man like that” my mother cut me off, and gave the useless man a smile.

I slumped my way back to my mother’s side, pushing my trolley all the way back to where my mother was waiting with my sister.

“How many times am I going to tell you to not argue with strangers”

“Well I just don’t understand why he won’t tell me where the platform is” as I was expressing my point to my mother, I found a boy with dark hair and glasses, his trolley had similar things to mine, maybe he knows.

I approach the boy and smile at him, extending my hand

“Hello there, my name is Benjamin Doyle”

“Hello, I’m Harry Potter” he shook my hand and smiled back at me

“Say, you wouldn’t know how to get to Platform 9 ¾ would you, the guards and guides around here haven’t been much help.”

“I actually came here to ask you the same thing, it’s also my first time at Hogwarts” from the corner of my eye I see my mother approaching me

“Hi, hey Ben, there’s a woman with some kids over there, they look like they are from Hogwarts too, maybe she can help” she points at a woman with red hair walking next to other kids with red hair.

“Come on Harry, maybe they know” we all rushed together towards the red headed family who were standing next to a column with the number ten and nine on each side.

“Come on Percy, you first” she signaled for the oldest looking boy towards the column, but isn’t he going to, he’s going to crash into the wall

“What are they doing?” As I'm asking Harry, we saw the boy run towards the column and into it!

“Fred, you next” she pointed to another one of the boys behind her

“Harry, we have to ask her how they are doing that” my mom looked down at me and pushed us both to go ask.

“Excuse me, could you tell us how to…?” Harry was the first to speak up and the woman quickly came up to us

“How to get on to the platform? Not to worry, boys, It's Ron’s first time as well” she said between chuckles.

I looked behind me where a boy our age smiled brightly at us.

“All you gotta do is walk straight at the wall between platforms 9 and 10, best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous” yup, I wasn’t crazy, that really happened.

Harry was the first of us to go, he ran straight towards the wall without stopping. My mom did the same

“I’ll see you when you cross the wall” she ran holding my sisters hand

It was my turn up next, but I was hesitant, what if I can’t get through the wall.

“don’t worry dear, you’ll be ok” she placed her hand on my back and gave me a little nudge

“Good luck” the little girl said almost silently then she rushed back behind her mother and gave me a shy smile.

I ran straight through the wall, but it didn’t feel like I was going through a wall. It just felt like running forward in an empty room, I looked back, and I couldn’t see anyone on the other side.

I looked around and found my mom talking to harry not so far from me, so I rushed to them

“Hey, I’ll see you inside” Harry Rushed off, and that’s when I finally noticed the train. When I read Hogwarts express, it took my breath away, this is really happening. I can’t believe it

“Honey, it’s time to go” I turned around and saw my mom, her eyes a bit teary and a smile on her face.

She gave me a tight hug and kissed my forehead

“I love you baby, remember what we talked about, write to me whenever you can give Luca the letter, he’ll find his way home ok”

I nodded and started to walk towards the train.

Once inside I looked through every booth looking for Harry, I found him alone in one booth looking out the window.

“Hey, mind if I sit here”

“Me too, everywhere is full” Ron spoke up from behind me

“Not at all” Harry motioned for the seats in front of him, and we both took a seat. I sat next to Harry and Ron sat in front of us.

“I’m Ron by the way, Ron Weasley”

“Benjamin Doyle, most people call me Ben though”

“I’m Harry Potter” Ron’s eyes grew wide

“So is it true, I mean, do you really have the” he started to point at his forehead

“What?”

“The scar?” a scar, don’t really think I saw a scar on Harry earlier.

“Oh, yeah!” he pushed his bangs away from his face revealing a thunder looking scar.

“Awesome”

“Wicked” we said it at the same time which made the three of us start laughing.

“Anything of the trolley dears” An old lady stopped in front of out booth with a cart full of candy

Ron pulled out a bag with something I didn’t really know what it was, but it looked gross

“We'll take the lot” Harry pulled out a few coins he had inside his pocket and gave them to the old lady, he bought the entire cart.

“So, Ben, is your family a wizard family?” Ron asked biting a piece of chocolate

“Well, my mother isn’t a witch, and I didn’t really know my father, he died on a car accident when I was small” I picked up a what I thought was a jellybean, but it tasted awful

“I’m so sorry.” Harry patted my shoulder

“it’s ok, my mother tells me stories about him all the time, sometimes it even feels like he is with me” I shrugged my shoulders and kept eating from the candy that was in front of me.

“This is scabbers, By the way. Pathetic, isn’t he?” Ron directs his view to his rat, sitting on his lap with a box on its head

“Just a little bit” harry answered

“Come on, don’t say that I’m sure he is actually great” I tried to hold back a laugh

“Fred gave me a spell to turn him yellow, want to see” he asked us.

“I actually don’t think that’s a good idea”

“Its fine, completely harmless” he grabs his wand and opens his mouth to begin the spell, but a girl with quite messy hair interrupted him

“Have any of you seen a toad, a boy named Neville’s lost one”

“no” we all said in unison

“Oh, are you doing magic? let’s see then” she stood there, and I don’t know why but her tone may be annoying me a little

Ron cleared his throat “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow” of course nothing happened

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few hours in the train ride, we got to know each other, the girl’s name is Hermione Granger, we got into a small argument over some spells but nothing major, it was fun to argue with someone in the same wavelength as me, it was also funny seeing Ron and Harry confused over what we were doing.

When we finally got off the train, we were escorted by a tall man to some boats that took us to the actual school. When I saw Hogwarts, I was amazed at the sheer size of it. It was so much more amazing than I could have ever thought.

Once inside everyone was huddled up together. One of the professors stood on top of the stairs waiting for us.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, in just a moment you will get through these doors, but before you can join your classmates you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily” She walked off into the room. I looked back at Ron and Harry who were standing next to me, I couldn’t tell which one of us was more excited.

“It’s true then, what they’re saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts” a blonde boy started talking to Harry, he didn’t seem that likeable. What I still don’t get is how do all these people know who Harry is.

“This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy” Ron snorted from behind me and harry

“You think my name is funny do you, I don’t suppose I need to ask yours, red hair and a hand-me-down robe, you must be a Weasley. You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort, I can help you there” he extends his hand, but Harry pushes it away

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks” before I could say anything, the same professor from before came back and tapped Malfoy with a scroll

“We are ready for you now, follow me” we followed her into the giant dining hall Infront of us. Once again, I got my breath taken away from me the ceiling looks like the night sky

I walked in next to Hermione behind Ron and Harry.

“It’s not real, the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the night sky” Me and Hermione say it at the same time, I laughed but she glared at me. I remembered that from reading something in dragon alley I don’t remember what though

“All right, will you wait along here please?” the professor pointed along the steps in front of her

“Now before we begin, Professor Dumbledore, will like to say a few words” I looked past the professor and at an old man who stood up behind her

“I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right side is out of bounds to anyone that does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you” well that’s a way to bring a mood down.

“When I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses” I wonder how the hat is going to sort us.

“Hermione Granger” she goes off, muttering to herself

“Mental, that one, I’m telling you” He leans over towards us now standing behind us

“Gryffindor!” the hat yelled, and everyone cheered.

The night went on, the hat sorting everyone into their houses, some people took longer than others, and some were almost instantaneous. Right now, it was Harry’s turn. The hat seemed to have more problems with Harry, muttering of two itself quietly.

“Gryffindor” it finally yelled.

“Benjamin Doyle” oh my god, it’s my turn, I quickly got up the steps, and sat down, the Professor which I have gone to know by Ron is Professor McGonagall placed the hat on my head

“Hmm… Quite passionate, private, argumentative and stubborn. Brave, headstrong, loyal. I would say Slytherin, but you lack ambition and cunning, Gryffindor!” oh my god what a relief I thought I was going to have to go to Slytherin.

I quickly shuffled on to the Gryffindor table.

“All three of us sorted in the same house, wicked” Ron exclaimed with excitement.

[moodymidnightkitten]

Spark

A/N: Woof, what a busy holiday season, well anyways I’m back and new binging Black Clover, so heres my official fan application, an almost 2k fanfic for Zora Ideale. 

Genre: fluff

w/c: 1939

Synopsis: reader from the real human universe lands herself in the Black Clover Universe (I could describe this more but I’m pulling blanks, feedback on how to make this better after y’all read this, that would be great.)

Pair: Zora Ideale x Reader

Ope heres my masterlist 

Ugh god, what time is it? You asked, rubbing your head, sitting on cold hard ground outside. A completely different place from where you were, napping in a cozy warm bed at home in, reality? You've seen enough anime to know that this definitely not the normal home setting you're used to. But what anime? You looked around, doing a complete 180 and coming face to face with the one and only Black Bulls hideout. 

"No fucking way," you mumbled to yourself. What in the magical hell is this? Also, what the hell are you supposed to do now? 

"Ooooo who are you?!" A memorable voice chimed in behind you. Turning around you came face to face with no other than Asta. 

You scratched the back of your head and gave the most non convincing fake smile you could muster up in this situation. Completely flustered and star struck. 

"Oh, I uhm, my name is y/n," you gave a measly laugh. 

"Are you a spatial magic user? You just fell from the sky?!" He loudly stated. You knew there was only one clear cut way into figuring out your situation. 

"Actually no, I don't even know how I got here, but do you think you'd be able to get me to the Wizard King, he might be able to help.." you suggested. 

Astas eyes lead beyond you through your request, you didn't feel it until now but a towering and looming figure was now behind you, with a voice that most certainly matched the profile, it was Yami, the captain of the Black Bulls. 

"Oi, you'd have better luck with me, Asta, you're to come with us," was all he said as he walked past you and grabbed onto Astas collar and pulled him with him as well. Everything happened so quickly you had to do a light jog to catch up with them. 

"I really appreciate this, thank you," you said in between huff's of air trying to fill your lungs back up. 

"Your clothes are a give away to your difference in upbringing. As well as I watched you just fall, so I also want to know how you got to 'this world'' Yami was short and to the point, as he's always portrayed. 

"Well I appreciate this a lot Captain Yami and Asta," as soon as you said their names Yami stopped walking. 

"How do you know who we are?" He grumbled in confusion. 

"You won't believe me when I tell you but, this place, and everyone here is actually a show, more namely, an anime where I'm from," you probably sounded crazy. Actually not probably, most certainly because the two men looked at each other and laughed the most hearty laugh you've ever heard. And so with everything being said, all three of you continued you way to see the Wizard King.

After meeting with the Wizard King who basically certified that you're from another plane of existence who entrusted Yami to watch over you. Although you're not from here the wizard king ensured that you came here with magic powers. So now you were a part of the Black Bulls. 

But now you were stuck with living with one of your anime men crushes. Zora Ideale. It's not like you've never been around men you were attracted to, but this is just on some whole new level. This was fictional beauty and desire come true. 

Those were the only thoughts going through your head on top of the fact you now had to learn your new magical powers and make yourself an asset to your new team. It's only stressful because it's time and space magic. So what, are you now Doctor fucking Strange? It made your head hurt thinking about it all too much. What's even more intense is the fact you bent realities while SLEEPING. How in the hell were you going to figure all of that out. But hey, at least you have a pretty nice grimoire. Black marble with gold tripping and a dazzling black diamond looking clover embedded on the cover. 

“Ah, finally back,” You heard Yami exasperate as you three came up to the base. Pushing open the doors and allowing you and Asta to walk inside. Everyone else of the Black Bulls was busy doing whatever they usually do as you walked in, Yami stopped shortly ahead of you and yelled. 

“Alright, listen up fuckers, we have a new member today, this is y/n, make yourself acquainted. Finral, bathroom.” Was all he said as Finral rushed over, stars dancing in his eyes upon looking at you.  You smiled back at him as Vanessa wrapped herself around your shoulders, clad in only lingerie with a bottle of cheap wine in her free hand. 

“Oooo where did you get such an outfit?! So cute!” Vanessa said, slowly peeling herself away from you and taking you all in, slowly but surely everyone else introduced themselves and bombarded you with questions, all except Zora, who seemed to be sleeping on the couch across the room very obviously trying to ignore the whole situation. Luckily enough for you Asta made his introduction for him so now it wouldn’t be weird for you to know who he was already. 

“Let me show you around!” Asta exclaimed, eagerly walking ahead of you, you followed him, taking one small peek behind you at the handsome masked man laying on the couch, who was actually peering at you through slitted eyes, causing a blush to paint on your cheeks as you quickly looked ahead of you and pressing your grimoire to your chest. All you heard behind you with a small chuckle causing your small blush into a blazing one. 

You got settled in very quickly and spent most of your days getting along and getting to know mostly everyone on the team. It was nice, you didn’t feel out of place and you’ve actually been able to use a little bit of magic here and there with the help of everyone around you. Of course thoughts of live at home, normal real home crept into your mind but you were practically begging to be in some new reality and experience the unreal, and now look, your sheer will bent the universes and landed you here. Could you really complain? 

At the current moment in time you were sitting on your own reading in the main common area while everyone else was either on a mission or also enjoying their time off. Except Zora, who quite unusually will just chill against the wall or on the couch when he isn't in town or traveling about to mess around with dirty nobles. But right now felt more intense, like someone was staring at you, and not just someone, but Zora, his piercing gaze felt like no other. It was like a scientist waiting for a rat to do something out of the normal. You turned in your seat and to no surprise there he was with his sea blue eyes just peering at you, causing the ever so common raging blush to paint your face, but you weren’t going to let that stop you from confronting him. 

“If you’re going to stare at me you might as well take a picture of me cretin,” you boldly stated, turning back in your seat. Why did you have to call him a cretin? What normal person just calls people cretins? Luckily he must have not taken offense because he was laughing and he walked over and sat next to you. 

“Cretin? Interesting way of flirting with me Cherry,” you looked down from your book and saw him with his head in his hand. His witty comeback against you was very obviously a job at how red your cheeks got when you were around him. 

“Well I wasn’t flirting with you, Match Book,” a stupid jab at has his hair looked also wasn’t the way to go but I guess this classic middle school back and forth flirting was how it was going to go. And it seemed to be the best option available because you now felt more comfortable in his presence and it seemed you two were getting along. 

“What do you want anyways Zora?” You asked, shutting your book and placing it on the table. He raised his eyebrow. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” with that he stood up without waiting for an answer and made his way to the door. Quickly you got up and followed him. You two didn’t speak for a bit as you walked, eventually you two came up to a small lake a few hundred feet from the base, Zora sat down in one of the clear patches, you decided to take up residence a few inches away. 

“This is beautiful,” you smiled, looking out to the peaceful lake glistening in the evening sun. 

“It is, but not as much as you.” Zora said, so blatant and straight forward. And if your face has never been this red and on fire before, well it was now. You didn’t even know you stopped breathing until, well, you needed air. 

“What..?” You looked at him as he was still peering at the lake.

“Oi, I’m not going to repeat myself,” Zora said in the most disgruntled way. 

“You’re different, everything about you, you don’t know what youre doing, you’re clumsy, your cheeks get this cozy red when I’m around, you radiate this positive do good energy and I’m drawn to it, I’ve been watching you since you got here, you’re intriguing,” he kept talking so honestly it made you wonder when he would ever stop flattering you, before you could say anything he said one last thing. 

“I want to get to know you.” He finally looked at you wearing a weak smile with a blazing blush that was so strong it krept a bit up and past his mask. 

“That was a lot, all at once, and to say I don’t feel anything back would be a lie, personally you radiate lawful chaotic energy but it's fun, I want to get to know you better as well.” You smiled and so didn’t he as you two looked back to the lake. You two sat there peacefully before being interrupted by someone gracefully coming through a spatial magic portal, wearing robes you know all too well, braided hair and the obvious facial marking, Licht. 

“Y/n, I see you’ve arrived,” he said calmly. “You probably don’t know who I am, but I know all about you,” dread filled your body like a subzero frost striking your bones. 

“I know who you are. What do you want.” Licht smiled at you. 

“I want to show you why you’re here,” he offered once he got closer but before you knew it Zora jumped in between you two. 

“Listen freakshow, she’s not going anywhere with you,” You could see every muscle in Zoras body tense in front of you, the tip of your nose practically touching his back. Licht chuckled.

“Hmm? I wasn’t offering,” Before you could even blink Zoras body was thrown away and now nothing stood in between you and Licht and before you knew it a force hit your body so hard you blacked out, slowly but surely phasing in and out of sleepy, your name was being yelled and fading out in the background and you felt you body being raised off the ground, the last thing you saw was Zora reaching out to you as much as he could, fingertips grazing upon your own as you slipped out of consciousness.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//two friends and a stranger

Request: Hi! Can I request rly angst poly relationship between sweet pea reader and a third girl and reader starts feeling unloved bc they always ignore her and go dates without her and when they do talk to her they're rly rude and mean overall? Thank you!!!

hey! this was so much fun to write, which isn’t that surprising because i love writing angst sooo. and there is no happy ending to this. so if you want to hurt, you’ve come to the right place.  anyway, i hope you like it! and i hope everyone has a great day!! 

It started slow at first. Missed calls here and ignored texts there. 

But then missed calls turned into missed dates and ignored texts turned into them leaving a place whenever you arrived. This went on for months, dates being planned when they knew you were busy, only to lie when they’re caught. 

They would look through you instead of at you, and you had no idea what changed. Until one day you woke up and you realized, what started as a loving relationship between three best friends, had ended with two friends and a stranger. 

Sweet Pea and Clara loved fiercely. And you always admired that. You knew when they were in love, and to be on the receiving end of it felt magical. It made you feel like you could do anything, anything would be possible as long as you had them on your side. They made you feel safe and warm and happier than you’d ever felt before. 

You found yourself day dreaming futures with them, filled with love and laughter. 

The three of you would save enough money to move out of the southside, and hopefully out of Riverdale, the only real ties you had here were your friends and all of them wanted to move too. You’d get a house somewhere, and decorate however you pleased. It would definitely be a mess with three people’s preferences crammed into a small house, but it would work. It would have a certain charm to it. There’d be photos and plants, candles and trinkets. All of them having a memory related to at least one of you. 

Friends would come over for parties, all of you reminiscing about the past and hoping for a future. With drunken karaoke thats filmed for future viewing that you can barely hear over the loud laughter in the background. You’d see how happy you all were, when you’re old and wrinkled, and you’d smile at each other. The three of you sat in your own arm chairs, either watching tv or reading. 

Nights would be spent wrapped in each others arms, rotating who’s the big spoon and who’s the little (somehow it would always be Sweet Pea), whispering plans for the future, stories from the past. About how Sweet Pea and Clara hated each other when they first met, and how it was you being friends with both of them that brought you all closer. Shushed laughter between you and Clara when Sweet Pea falls asleep with his mouth open and drooling. Soft kisses before bed, rushed kisses in the morning, slow and passionate kisses when hands have wandered. 

Inside jokes that confuse your friends, surprise dinners made for one another after long days at work. And the train of washing up (named by you) afterwards. One washes, one dries, the other puts away. Perfect.

Holidays and pets, candid pictures of one or two of you, posed pictures of all three of you when Sweet Pea figures out how to work the camera you and Clara bought him. 

Christmas’ spent watching movies in bed with hot chocolate, New Years spent with friends, counting down until the next year, hopefully to be filled with more luck that the last. Halloweens spent dressed up after months of planning your costumes. Birthdays spent being fussed over by the other two. 

All the good and bad things that life has to through you, all together. 

So many stories would be told within the four walls all of which you couldn’t wait for. 

All of which you’ve watched slowly fade away. You could feel them, they were so close, and then slowly but surely you watched them disappear. Instead being replaced with sadness and the feeling of being alone. 

Until it becomes apparent that they still wanted all of those things, just without you. 

You’ve been through pain in your life. It’s only natural, pain and life come hand in hand. You can’t live without suffering. 

You’ve watched friends and family die, been in your fair share of fights. Watched as friends come and go, watched as they’ve fought. People have left, people have struggled, you’ve struggled. 

But the pain you’ve felt the past few months, as you’ve watched the two people you love the most slowly pull away from you without a word. Watched as they’ve pretended nothing is wrong, come up with excuses as to why neither of them returned your calls or didn’t show for your date. It hurts more than any punch to the face. You feel it all over, it seeps into your bones and it doesn’t move. If anything it gets worse with each day. 

You watch them at parties they didn’t bother to invite you to. You watch as they laugh and kiss and dance, like they’re the only two people in the world. To you they are. But to them, you’re just another face in the crowd it seems, unimportant and invisible. They’re surrounded by friends, everyone happy. And when Toni or Fangs ask where you are, they say they’re not sure, assuring them that you’re around somewhere. 

You’ve tried talking to them, managing only a few times to get them both alone, but anytime you bring it up, they send each other an unreadable expression before reassuring you that nothing is wrong. 

You’re not sure how you got here. 

You were only supposed to be going for a short walk, needing to get out of the house for a bit. It feels too crowded at the minute, despite it just being you for the most part. Your parents come and go, but they mostly go. You feel every room is filled with memories and Sweet Pea and Clara, they follow you wherever you go, until they get too much. 

It was supposed to be a small walk around the block. But when you got to the end of the road, you kept walking. It was like something was pulling you, despite the darkness of the night and the fear slowly creeping up inside of you. You walked. 

You walked until you stopped outside of her house. Clara has the nicest home out of the three of you. It’s one of the very few actual houses on the Southside. The rest are trailers, tents and and a run down apartment complex, the latter being the one you live in. 

It’s filled with mice and rats and bugs, the heating doesn’t work in the winter and the air conditioning doesn’t work in the summer. But it’s four walls and a roof and you’re not planning on being there for very long. At least you weren’t. 

Clara’s house is nice. It’s quite nice for the southside, but it’s been bought with dirty money and so she’s excited to leave. 

After the trailer park burned down, Sweet Pea went between you and Clara until they got tents. But even after he got, he didn’t spend much time in it. He would usually be at yours, but now you can’t remember the last time he so much as visited. 

Now you’re here, you’re not really sure what to do. The peeling paint on the wooden door brings a flicker of a smile to your lips. It feels like home. So many memories have been made out here alone. 

You and Clara were friends long before you got together. And so you spent more time here than your own house. You would play outside when you were younger, despite how much her mother insisted on playing inside or out the back garden. Back then, you didn’t understand why she was so worried about you being out there, but the older you got the more you realized. By that point you know longer played anyway, you spent your nights either out with the serpents or in the Wyrm. 

You remember standing and kissing her on the doorstep, the brightest smile on your faces when you pulled away. You remember thinking that you’d never feel happier than you were right then. 

You remember Sweet Pea picking you up for dates, the two of you spending the afternoon getting ready together. You and Sweet Pea would walk her back home, both pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving. She’d watch you walk away, a soft smile playing on her lips as you disappeared down the street. 

Or getting caught in the rain and running up the steps, Clara fiddling with the key while you jumped from one foot to the other to keep warm, and Sweet Pea would slip up the steps. 

The night you, her and Sweet Pea sat on the doorstep waiting for her parents to come back from whatever they were doing. Clara had heard them talking earlier, only getting pieces of what they saying but it was enough to worry her. So you and Sweet Pea stayed, and distracted her with games and jokes until they turned up. 

You hear laughter from behind the door and you’re pulled back to reality, your smile disappearing, a frown taking its place as you feel the disappointment settle back in. 

The problem with memories is that you can get lost in them. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and wish that this ends well. You know you love them, and if being a serpent has taught you anything, it’s that you fight for what you love. They may have given up on you, but you haven’t given up on them, or yourself for that matter. You deserve an explanation at the very least. And you’re not leaving until you get one. 

You knock on the door and wait, with bated breath and fingers crossed. After a few seconds the door swings open revealing Clara. Her smile falters when her eyes land on you and she looks down, desperately avoiding eye contact. 

The gesture hurts, but it just blends in with the rest of the pain you’re feeling so you power through. 

“Hey Y/n.” It’s like she has to force your name past her lips while reluctantly looking at you. You send her a small smile before looking past her, watching as Sweet Pea slowly shuffles towards the door. The confused expression on his face disappears once he see’s you, its replaced by something you can’t quite place. 

Guilt? Disappointment? Relief? Maybe its a mix of all three. You try not to let it affect you, your gaze lingering on the tall serpent before looking back at Clara. They shift awkwardly, having a silent conversation with each other while you stand on the doorstep. 

“Sorry we didn’t invite you.” Clara starts, her sentence rushed like it’s the first thing thats come to mind. Her hair falls in front of her face, but she does nothing to move it and you realize she’s probably trying to hide. You have an urge to brush it away, a gesture that would make her smile and blush, but the thought of doing it now makes you feel sick. 

“Yeah, we thought you were busy.” Sweet Pea adds, glancing at her before looking back at you. 

“Its fine.” You force a smile. “Can I come in?” 

“Er, yeah, Sure.” Clara nods reluctantly. She opens the door further and steps to the side to let you. 

A shaky breath escapes your lips as you walk over the threshold. It feels like years since you last stepped foot in here. Nothing has changed. The ugly rug is still by the front door. When you were younger you used to wrap yourselves up in it and take it in turns sliding down the stairs. Every single time would end in her mom telling you off, but you would just giggle and do it again when she wasn’t paying any attention. 

The cabinet with the fancy plates is still against the wall. A wedding present for her parents from her grandma. What they don’t know is that you ran into it when you were drunk. Thankfully only a plate smashed and you remember thinking it was the funniest thing in the world one minute before hysterically crying the next. It ended in an equally drunk Sweet Pea and Clara gluing it back together and putting it back before her parents got home. The next morning you woke up with your hands stuck together. Clara and Sweet Pea you understood, but you went no where near the glue and to this day it’s still a mystery. 

“Hey, remember when you fell into that.” Clara chuckles suddenly, the sound taking both you and Sweet Pea surprise. You look at each other, but it doesn’t last long, he looks at the floor making you sigh. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask bluntly and they look at you surprised. They clearly weren’t expecting that, but neither were you to be honest. 

“I-i.” 

“What do you mean?” Sweet Pea asks. He looks back at you, but he can’t bear to look at you properly for more than a few seconds. 

“Please don’t.” Your voice breaks and you feel the tears building. The months you’ve spent trying to stay positive, trying to write off their excuses and lies. They can spend as much time as they want together, you just want them to stop ignoring you, stop lying to you. To stop forcing themselves to love you. 

You can feel their eyes on you while you stand in front of them, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“Just, don’t. I just want to know why you’re doing this. You can tell me if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I’d honestly prefer that than whatever this is. Your lies and excuses and clear avoidance of me. If you’ll be happier without me, just tell me.” Tears slip from your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, forcing yourself to look at them. 

You were expecting at least a little emotion from them, but their faces look more like stone than skin. Their expressions hard as they move closer to each other. 

“You’re right.” Sweet Pea starts. 

“We are happier without you.” Clara finishes. 

It feels like you’ve been punched in the gut, you feel winded, like you can’t breathe. Tears flow down your cheeks but you don’t bother to wipe them. They did this, they have to face it. 

“Okay.” You take another shaky breath. “Any reason in particular?” You don’t know why you asked that. You should have just left, but you feel yourself stuck to the spot, unable to escape. 

They look at each other, having another silent conversation and you watch as their expressions change. It goes from unsure, to sadness and then ends on something you’ve never seen before, not towards you at least. Spite.

“We’ve fallen out of love with you. It’s like, when we’re together, it’s the full package, and I could see us with other people in the future. Just not you.” Sweet Pea explains and a sob escapes your lips. You can’t breathe, the air feels tight around you. Like there’s a limited supply of oxygen and they’re taking it all. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You manage to ask. 

“Couldn’t be bothered.” Clara shrugs. 

“We kept forgetting I suppose.” 

“But I love you.” You know you sound pathetic, your voice raw and croaky, your cheeks red, your eyes puffed. This can’t be real. They love you, you love them. Thats how it was always going to be. 

“Thats sweet.” Clara starts. 

“But it’s not reciprocated...sorry.” Only now does Sweet Pea look remorseful as he looks back at the hardwood floor. 

“Okay.” You manage to gather yourself together. Taking a deep breath and looking both of them in the eye before shoving past them. They both sway, hurt flashing in their eyes but you don’t see it. You’re too busy trying to get out and away from them. 

Once you’re stood on the doorway again, you make sure to look at them individually.

“I hope you guys are very happy together.” You force out through gritted teeth. 

The door slams closed and a piece of red paint falls to the floor. Your knees buckle beneath you, sobs wracking your body as you drop to the floor. 

The streetlight illuminates the dark street, making your tears on the ground sparkle. You watch them dry and they seep into the cement, disappearing almost as soon as they fall. 

They engrain themselves into the concrete and with them follows another memory you know you’ll never forget. 

No matter how hard you try.