#i apparently really enjoy when their trust is in jeopardy

[bisexualfbiagents]

It’s on the video, Mulder. I can’t prove it was you, but I know what I saw. This man is a murderer. He is a terrorist. I have a report to give this morning. I expect you to give me an answer. I expect you to tell me the truth.

THE X FILES GIF MEME [3/20] EPISODES The Pine Bluff Variant (5.18)

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling  my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach. 

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them. 

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone. 

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow. 

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling. 

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt. 

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is. 

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing. 

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled. 

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head. 

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered. 

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered. 

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered. 

She sighed. 

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.” 

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger. 

 The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. 

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced. 

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way. 

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days. 

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted. 

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.” 

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly. 

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out.  “ I shuddered. 

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing .  Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well. 

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind. 

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again. 

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about  with pretty feminine clothes . 

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me. 

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not. 

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes .  When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank. 

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him. 

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth. 

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over. 

The nerve. 

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up. 

I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.” 

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not. 

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual. 

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. 

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped. 

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset. 

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard . 

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply. 

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing. 

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on. 

 “ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart. 

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists . 

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind? 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me. 

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?” 

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look. 

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened. 

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance. 

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.” 

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly. 

Coward. 

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out. 

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly. 

 Ugh.

 “ They’ve asked me out before, yes.” 

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen. 

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly. 

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous. 

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently. 

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. 

A small frown made its way to his face. 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench. 

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile. 

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth . 

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him. 

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me. 

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face. 

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter. 

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly. 

My father was slightly slack jawed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is  my  neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon. 

Daughter, my ass. 

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly. 

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?” 

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded. 

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon. 

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong. 

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare. 

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away. 

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.” 

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “ 

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned. 

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately. 

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “ 

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.” 

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed. 

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned. 

Jungkook groaned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it,  my friend cancelled . 

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently. 

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged. 

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.  

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him. 

And I couldn’t forget that. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked. 

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head. 

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow. 

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed . 

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan.   “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips. 

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence. 

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.” 

“He loves you.” I breathed , “  You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden. 

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted. 

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop. 

I had to tell him this. 

 “ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest. 

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well. 

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called. 

I groaned. 

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently. 

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.” 

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine. 

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.” 

And just like that the wall grew between us. 

His kids and my kids. 

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me. 

He would never be for me. 

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry. 

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. . 

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[hexfloog]

So, ShinRan: think there's any way in hell it could actually work, even without the whole Conan thing?

Ehheh, so... a disclaimer: my brain is not really wired to think about ships or romance in general, and it's never been something I've devoted much thought to in any franchise, really. Idk if this is because I'm aro af or what and just don't have a radar for it (uncomfirmed), but I can think of a grand total of like two ships I actively enjoy... across all my fandoms. Mad respect for people who can put thoughtful effort into analyzing that sort of thing beyond surface-level cuteness (which is where I mostly stand on this), so that said, my thoughts on any kind of ship-- even ShinRan-- are incredibly scant, and at this point in time I subscribe to it mostly because it's overtly canon.

I think, subconsciously, I HC Shinichi as ace/heteroromantic. But he's a teenager, there's a lot of people who don't really know where they stand at that age and he's so engrossed in his passions (cough, work) outside of his personal life that he also probably just doesn't really know much in the way of intimacy outside of Ran, what with his absentee (also laissez-faire) parents and otherwise few friends. And even what he does know, I think, amounts to very little. In short, I think he's inexperienced and it translates to shaky ground on which to base my observations.*

*In all fairness, this is a bit hard for me to gauge as most of their interactions prior to Conan are told in flashback and simultaneously framed by both Ran and the show's narrative to keep Shinichi centered as the Hero... some conflicts of interest exist there, I think. Is Ran really just naïve, or is the narrative trying to justify Shinichi's sometimes tactlessness behavior for the sake of the audience?

Just in general though, I'm not a huge fan of the childhood sweetheart setup for a romantic relationship. It makes for some cute, fluffy content for sure, but as a healthy couple I think they would need more time to work things out-- which they won't have until the whole Conan thing resolves itself, honestly. He (Conan) does need to go before any real progress can be made; The Whole Situation is just such a huge hindrance to anything they could feasibly make progress on together for a variety of reasons... like being forced to communicate in secret all the time, to say the least. Personally, I even believe that the few times he's able to appear to her in his own body are even more damaging than if he just... didn't. The usual intent is to appease Ran's suspicions, yes? But... doesn't it end up being more detrimental than not? Like who else does he serve-- aside from scratching his own itch by proxy-- by transforming every now and then?

Speaking of Ran: I firmly believe she has some serious abandonment issues, caused by circumstances largely out of her control-- which Shinichi is absolutely not helping by being secretive all the time-- and I think what she really wants is stability, as a result. Her estranged parents forced her to grow up way too fast and even before Conan came under her wing she was already practically a young mother. (I just watched OVA 6, and it kinda hurt watching Shinichi flashback to watching her buy groceries growing up over the years, no doubt because Eri was no longer in the picture and Kogoro, the remaining parent, is Irresponsible.) She didn't choose that, this balancing act of keeping her father in check and trying to enjoy her youth, and if Shinichi is one of her only tethers to a way out of that, it's... not a particularly healthy setup to romance, imo. Maybe it's my complete lack of a shipping radar, maybe it's from personal experience, but I think that their relationship is less romantic at this stage and more "extremely good friends."

Anyway - you asked if I think it would work, and... Maybe? To us, the viewers, it feels like an eternity has elapsed in the DC-verse, but canonically it's only been what, a year or so? Even absent the Conan Predicament, I don't think they've been an item-- or even seriously thinking of themselves as an item-- for long enough to really know for sure. Given that they only became official in the midst of *gestures wildly* All of This I think I'd be making an unfair verdict when they started at a huge disadvantage in the first place.

All that said about Ran - I also think her desire for normalcy is what keeps her waiting for Shinichi. I don't think she'd let that go anytime soon, and also what I think could drive her motivation to make it work. I'm slightly less confident about Shinichi; he clearly cares deeply for her, but the ways he goes about showing it (ahem, the Big Secret) seems misguided at times, not to speak of the apparent temptation to usurp her place in his priorities with his passions (ahem, How This Whole Thing Got Started).

As an aside... one of several things I constantly hope for is more meaningful dialogue over the phone. Since it's their only real avenue of communicating until further notice, it's a window into the potentially uncomfortable and a way for the more troubled parts of their relationship to be explored, but like many things in this show, the possibility is merely teased and not tread. An example which comes to mind is their brief conversation from Movie 2, when Ran is confiding in Shinichi over the possibility Kogoro may have taken a needlessly reckless risk in Eri's hostage situation (Funi dialogue below):

"Hey, Rachel. It's been a while." "Jimmy?" "Dr. Agasa told me what's going on with your dad. I'm really sorry." "Sorry doesn't keep people alive, Jimmy! We need your help, get back here right away!" "I can't, I'm backed up with cases of my own. I won't be back there for some time." [Defeated] "...Yeah." "Now don't be like that, Rachel. Dr. Agasa brought me up to speed on the entire case, so if I can figure anything out, I'll let you guys know, okay?" [Pause] "Jimmy... would you have shot... me?" "Huh?" "Now I know... that's why she left. She could never trust him not to put her in danger again." [Pause] "I heard about that case, also. Richard shot her." "It doesn't matter how sure of himself he was, he shouldn't... have put his wife in jeopardy like that. You wouldn't have fired the gun if it were me, would you, Jimmy?" "Come on, Rachel. Don't ask me things like that."

Honestly the fact that Kogoro/Eri and Shinichi/Ran's relationship is often paralleled, I especially find the above conversation really intriguing (the stuff in bold) and I wish it weren't cut short--

TL;DR I'm not well-tuned to analyze ships, but as both Shinichi and Ran are still teenagers and the Current Circumstances keep getting in the way of their relationship... I think the possibility still exists to make things work, in spite of my believing the foundation of 'childhood sweetheart' is a bit rocky.

[blacklister214]

Blacklist Secret Santa Gift

@takadasaiko​ Here’s your Secret Santa Gift! Enjoy!

Consequences

Strange how easy it was to take as commonplace things that once would have been considered unattainable luxuries. The girl who would one day become Scottie Hargrave would have never dared to dream of the high-rise the woman would call home. Not the closet of couture, not the priceless art adorning the wall, and not even the Egyptian cotton sheets that currently wrapped around her body like a decadent cocoon. Even ten years ago, long after she’d accepted such possessions as her due, the deep slumber she’d been experiencing would have been an indulgence completely beyond her reach. A decade later she’d come to expect a peaceful night’s rest. That was why, when she jolted awake, she knew instantly something had to be wrong.

Instinctively her hand flew to her nightstand for her gun. It wasn’t there. Of course. Scottie had locked it away in preparation for her granddaughter’s extended visit. Her gaze swept the room for the presence she sensed there. Sure enough, sitting in a chair ten feet away was a still figure assessing her with icy consideration. Scottie's heart leapt in her chest as her mind flew back decades in time. Katarina. It couldn’t be.

The woman leaned forward and the moonlight from the window partly illuminated her face. Scottie released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Not Katarina. Masha, or rather Elizabeth, as she preferred to be called. Of course. That made far more sense than a ghost. Strange to have mistaken one for the other. Despite their relationship, mother and daughter looked very little alike. It was only now and then that something in Elizabeth’s posture or expression brought a flash of bittersweet recognition. 

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?” It had been weeks since she’d last seen her daughter-in-law, since Elizabeth had elected to go to war with Raymond Reddington over the murder of her mother. Pain shot through Scottie as she remembered that phone call. Elizabeth had explained what had happened. Katarina Rostova had miraculously returned from the dead, only to be murdered by the concierge of crime. 

Scottie had been so shocked, she didn’t know how she’d managed to absorb the rest of the details. Why hadn’t Katarina reached out? Scottie would have helped. Katarina had to have known that. Elizabeth hadn’t realized the impact of the information she was imparting. She’d merely been explaining why she needed Scottie to care for Agnes for an extended period of time.     

“So many things.” Eyes finally adjusting to the dark room Scottie suddenly focused on the gun Elizabeth was casually resting on her thigh. Adrenaline flooded the older woman’s system.

“Elizabeth, why do you have that gun?” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side in an uncanny imitation of Raymond Reddington. 

“Family is a funny concept isn’t it? I share blood with Agnes. Agnes shares blood with you. Suddenly I’m willing to turn my child over to a woman who shot up a church on my wedding day. Who tried to have me kidnapped. Who had my husband tortured.” Scottie could hear the quiet rage unlaying every word. Sins that had been forgiven, if not forgotten now blistered in her ears. Still, Elizabeth couldn’t claim superiority on every front. People in glass houses, as the saying went, shouldn’t throw stones.

“I’m not the only person in this room to have done that, if I recall. Tom forgave both of us-” 

Elizabeth raised her weapon so that it was now pointing directly between Scottie’s eyes. If she squeezed the trigger, that was it. At this range there was no way Katarina’s daughter would miss.

“Don’t you say his name!” There was so much anger and grief Scottie felt, for a moment, a twinge of shame. It was a novel experience to say the least. Still, she wasn’t such a hypocrite that she would apologize. If she’d had the choice, she knew she’d do it all over again.   

“You know.” When Elizabeth had first awoken from her coma, Scottie had feared discovery. She imagined Elizabeth might refuse to accept that her husband was gone. That she might have gone digging and uncovered the truth. Elizabeth hadn’t, probably because Harold Cooper had been a witness to “Tom’s” corpse. Reddington, she might have disbelieved, but not the assistant director of the FBI. That the truth should surface now, after so much time had passed was surprising. 

“I found Dr. Selma Orchard.” That explained it. The war with Raymond had pushed Elizabeth to dig more fiercely that she had before. Of course she’d reach out to Orchard. Scottie kicked herself for not having anticipated it. 

“I see.” She’d hidden the good doctor well, but Elizabeth was an FBI agent with all the resources that entailed. Scottie could easily image Orchard slightly relaxing her guard after years had passed. It wouldn’t have taken much.

“How?” Scottie had expected this question. What she’d achieved under the noses of the FBI AND Raymond Reddington was quite remarkable. If it hadn’t caused her so much pain, she might even be proud of herself.

“Tom called me before he got home. My people arrived just after Reddington. They followed you to the hospital. Tom flat-lined on the table, but they were able to resuscitate. Once he stabilized, I got him out. A few bribes. Doctored surveillance footage. The body Cooper saw was a German arms dealer surgically altered to look like Tom down to every last scar and faded tattoo.” She’d gotten the idea from the Independence, USA mission Tom himself had been a part of. Without that body there was no way Reddington would have believed Tom was really dead.

Elizabeth shook her head angrily, not in the mood apparently to be impressed. Scottie couldn’t exactly blame her.

“Not ‘how did you pull it off?’. I don’t CARE how you pulled it off. I meant ‘How could you do this?’ To me. To Agnes! You stole MY HUSBAND! You stole HER FATHER!” Now Scottie felt herself becoming angry. She “stole” him?! As if Scottie didn’t have as much, if not more of a claim on Tom. As if it were Scottie’s fault that Tom had nearly died. As if it was for Scottie that Tom had put himself in mortal jeopardy.

“I SAVED your husband. I SAVED Agnes’ father. I SAVED MY SON!” Scottie took a deep breath. She didn’t blame Elizabeth. Not really. Not for being angry. Not for Tom’s nearly fatal wounds. She hadn’t chosen to be born into the web of danger and deceit any more than Tom had. “This wasn’t some maniacal plan I hatched to cause you pain. Tom was in a coma. You were in a coma. I didn’t know when or if either of you would wake up. When I faked his death, I was only thinking of protecting him from the people who came after him and from Reddington.

It was only after I’d had him that I realized the truth. Tom would never be safe with you, even without knowing Reddington’s secret. There is nowhere the two of you could run that he wouldn’t find you. The same with Agnes. Reddington would NEVER let either of you go.” As a mother, she had had no choice. She wouldn’t let her boy die. Not again. Not when she could save him.

“And so you decided to take him away from both of us.” Scottie sighed. Elizabeth still didn’t understand. She hadn’t been the only one who’d lost him.

“Tom Keen would never leave his wife and child not for any reason. But Jacob Phelps was a survivor. He could be reasoned with.” With Orchard’s help she had rolled her son back to an earlier version. Someone who could be trusted to act in his own self interest, rather than that of his family.

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth. I told him he’d had a violent falling out with Bill McCready a few years ago. That he’d recently started working for me. That Raymond Reddington wanted him dead and very nearly got his wish. That he had the funds to start over anywhere in the world he chose.” The memories were there, carefully edited by Orchard’s skill, and any gaps easily explained by the trauma he’d suffered.

“You didn’t tell him you’re his mother?” Scottie swallowed, recalling having to make that decision. There had been a time, a too brief time, when she’d seen a look in her son’s eyes. Love for her, for his mother. Quite the contrast to the wary expression the last time she’d seen them.

“No. I couldn’t risk it. He may have wanted to stay in contact. So you see, I didn’t do anything to you I didn’t do to myself.” If Scottie had expected sympathy, she was destined for disappointment. The look Elizabeth gave her now was pure contempt.

“Yes, you did. You let me think he was dead. You let me think Tom was dead because of me.” Scottie swallowed the retort about how that had very nearly been the case. That wouldn’t help the situation.

“Agnes was kidnapped when she was a baby. You went months without knowing if she was alive or dead. You have had a taste of what it feels like to lose your child. I had already buried my son once. I could not endure it again.” There it was, as much of an apology as she was capable of making. A plea, mother to mother, for Elizabeth understanding, if not forgiveness. She studied the FBI agent’s face and thought she detected, just for a moment, a softening of expression. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Where is he?” Scottie shook her head.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth raised the gun in silent threat. “You can shoot me, but it won’t change my answer. I didn’t want to live with the temptation.” Would Elizabeth shoot her? Scottie was still Tom’s mother. Agnes was still down the hall. Elizabeth’s thoughts seemed to follow a similar path as she glanced to the door. Her lips tightened as she stood. A decision had been made.

“I’m going to find him.” Scottie briefly closed her eyes. Why had her son married such a stubborn woman? 

“He’s not the same man you knew.” It was a desperate bid, but it was also the truth. Elizabeth had only ever known a man who loved her. Who’d wanted her enough to risk death to be with her. 

“And I’m not the same woman. It doesn’t matter. He still deserves the truth. He deserves to be able to make his own choices. Something neither you, nor Reddington can seem to grasp.” The comparison stung especially in light of recent events.

“Then I hope you can live with the consequences.” She gazed after Elizabeth, eyes following her through the door and lingering there long after. There was no point in laying back down. Sleep would not come for her again tonight. Instead her mind raced with all the things she had done, and all the things she had yet to do to save her son. 

“I hope we both can.” 

[notcanoncompliant]

can i request a fic where peter is in the military and when he comes home hes surprises his husband tony and his daughter morgan ? love your work xoxo

I've never written a kid!fic before, thank you for the challenge! I hope you enjoy 💕

Background:

> Age difference; Tony’s in his mid-late forties, Peter’s like 28-29.

> Pepper’s been friends with Tony for a million years, she carried Morgan for Peter & Tony (Tony is Morgan’s bio-dad)

> Tony’s still Tony Stark, he’s just not Iron Man. Pepper runs SI, Tony works/signs things/attends meetings from home so he can take care of Morgan

> Peter does IT for the government, gets contracted for military assignments

***

Don't Wanna Miss A Thing

The weather’s nice; chilly (but not too chilly) with sunshine spilling everywhere, glinting off iridescent birthday streamers and the few glittery party hats abandoned by a couple of Morgan’s friends in the grass and on the picnic table.

Tony’s hanging a little ways back from the party, watching Morgan run around with her friends. This is one of those times he’s grateful the other parents are a little (read: a lot) intimidated by Morgan’s pretty-much-celebrity father; it means he gets a few minutes of moping before he has to pull himself together and act like a person again.

He’s been trying, really trying, not to let too much of his sadness and frustration leak into his time with Morgan, but it’s hard. Peter was supposed to be coming home on leave for three weeks (!!!), but the military analyst powers-that-be had apparently needed him for just a little longer, another classified project that couldn’t wait.

It’s not the first time Peter’s had to cancel plans because of duty, but this would’ve been the first time Peter was home for Morgan’s birthday since the actual day of her birth, and Tony wishes there was something to rail against, something he could do. He would, but his husband loves his work and Tony would never put that in jeopardy or ask him to stop.

It’d be easier, though, if Tony were allowed to know where his husband is. Peter’s work usually falls under the ‘classified’ category nature. That in itself wouldn’t stop him...but Peter's forbidden him from looking up the locations. The uncertainty drives Tony nuts sometimes (all the time), but he’s been good.

(...and when he’s having a hard time being good, he has Pepper on emergency speed-dial as a safeguard to help talk him out of doing it; just another reason Tony’s grateful for her presence in their lives)

A familiar hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes once. He glances over as Pepper lowers herself onto the bench beside him.

“If you keep showing me affection, they might think it’s okay to talk to me,” Tony says, gesturing subtly to the other parents standing off a little ways away.

Pepper just gives him a fondly exasperated look, to which Tony shrugs. He knows she won’t give him actual flack; the PTA crew don’t really know what to do with themselves around a powerhouse like Virginia Potts, CEO.

“You know, you could take a page out of Morgan’s book,” she says quietly.

Tony heaves a breath, looks out at where Morgan’s running around with her friends.

They’re laughing and yelling and generally raising hell in their own little corner of the park, most of them in their wonderfully gaudy party hats, smacking each other with various foam weapons (Morgan wanted a warrior princess party; it’s the first childrens’ party Tony’s had to distribute liability waivers for, and he has a sneaking suspicion it won’t be the last). Morgan’s smile is as sunny as the weather, her cheeks pink from the cold as she begins to lead some kind of charge on the jungle gym.

He shrugs. “I don’t think the other parents would appreciate me beating their children with foam toys. Unfair advantages, you know. Better hand eye coordination. Longer limbs.”

Pepper huffs a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

Tony does know. Morgan always handles Peter’s absence with a grace Tony admires (and that she definitely got from Pepper). He worries about his glum mood running her over, does his best to be honest with her without making her carry his weight. She’s strong; strong and light and weirdly wise for someone so young (she gets all of that from Peter, no doubt, even without a genetic connection), and Tony’s so afraid to ruin that.

“I’m not dragging her down, am I?” he hears himself ask.

There’s a soft sigh from beside him as Pepper’s fingers lace through his.

“You’re not. You know you’re not,” she says, squeezing his hand. “You’re not handling it as poorly as you think, and it’s good for her to see you miss your husband. It’s always good for her to see that you’re only human.”

Tony just nods, not trusting himself to speak. It doesn’t lessen the ache, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

He tilts his head to rest on his friend’s shoulder, shuts his eyes. “Don’t know what we’d do without you, Pep.”

“You’d do alright,” she says, a smile in her voice.

It’s nice, letting himself feel. Not so much that he’s in danger of sobbing in a public park, but enough to acknowledge the weight in his chest, the soreness of disappointment, the gentle sting of love across a vast distance. To just lean there for a minute, temple pressing against the wool of Pepper’s jacket, just breathing…

“Papa!!”

Tony stiffens, opens his eyes, tries to process the rush of disbelief and hope.

No...It’s not...please be what I--please--

Morgan’s flying towards he and Pepper, but the giant smile on her face is directed somewhere past the park bench entirely, and Tony’s heart leaps into his throat.

He turns around in time to see Peter, resplendent in his G-man standard suit, striding towards them across the grass, a grin clear on his face. The stride turns into a jog turns into a sprint, and Peter collides, laughing, with their daughter, swings her up in the air before pulling her into a tight hug.

As Tony watches the display, he feels acutely all six months his husband’s been gone; the short phone calls a couple times a week, the video calls less frequently than that. Feels it all like a firestorm in his chest, his gut. Every sappy private moment, every night he curled up around a pillow sprayed with a little of Peter’s cologne.

He’s up, behind the bench and across the grass so fast he feels breathless.

Morgan’s got her arms around Peter, her face buried in his neck, and Peter’s eyes are red-rimmed and damp, his smile trembling just a little. Tony absolutely fails at keeping himself together as he kisses his husband hard, an almost painful press of lips, before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together.

“Hey, G-man,” he says, sniffing hard, grinning through his tears, “glad you could make it.”

Peter huffs a delighted laugh, kisses him again, cups the nape of Tony’s neck with his free hand and just...keeps him close.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Extra -- I might come back to this 'verse, or one like it. Super basic plot idea: When Tony finds out his husband's been taken hostage, and that Peter's work for the government isn't what Tony had thought, he becomes Iron Man to save the love of his life.

***

Everything Tag List: @the-amazing-spidertwink, @starkercrossedlovers, @hoeforthegays, @silkystark

[depressedyeehaw]

KDRAMA REC

these are dramas I’ve watched. favorites in no particular order (except Goblin, it’s my favorite.) I tried not to put too much into the details because I didn’t want to spoil anything but yeah. I’ve seen quite a few now so why not.

* Goblin (Guardian: the Lonely and Great God)

buckle up because you’ve got a tired goblin, a socially inept grim reaper, and ghost seeing high schoolers that become housemates and your best friends.

if you’re not new to the Kdrama world then you’ve definitely heard or seen this drama and how fucking great it is. whether it’s the stellar cast or the beautiful soundtrack, it didn’t get its reputation for nothing.

it’s got romance, bromance, lots of humor, past and present collisions, the ability to make you depressed, and Gong Yoo.

Hush - Linde Lindh (the OTS is so beautiful)

what more could you want?

* Healer

do you like spy or spy-esque genres? Ji Chang Wook? a dash of betrayal? then I’ve got the drama for you!

an errand boy for hire gets put in a sticky situation that involves a girl that he just can’t seem to shake, their past, and some politics that really put his identity in jeopardy.

it’s a lot of storylines that really tie together well in the end.

when you hold me tight - Yael Meyer

bad boy is actually soft and soft girl don’t take shit.

* The Legend of the Blue Sea

another fantasy that includes the past and present, but with MERMAIDS.

a mermaid who’s just trying to get this boy, but can’t exactly function well in society since she was in the ocean her whole life.

and a con artist who just can’t seem let her go.

the secondary cast are great and I love them.

this drama is hilarious, like first episode you’re gonna laugh within the first 10 min. it’s probably my second favorite.

it’s got TWO umbrella scenes AND a claw machine.

crying may happen so bring a plastic bag.

* Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo

another favorite.

your main girl is a weightlifting, independent woman who don’t need no man but boy does she like him.

and your main guy is a swimmer with PTSD and he’s such a sweet BOI

the trio is so funny I wanted to die.

sets high standards for your boyfriend so watch out.

sheds light on mental health and eating disorders.

no bad blood really, just really wholesome x1.

* Fight My Way

four friends just trying to follow their dreams even tho they’re tight on money.

leading lady is so fed up, just wants to be an announcer.

leading boy is not far behind her, lowkey misses being a fighter.

my favorite drama with Park Seo Joon.

the aeygo is strong with this one.

really wholesome x2, you’ll love it.

don’t punch with your thumb tucked under your fingers, you’ll break it

* What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim?

she just wants to live her own life, that’s what.

she’s been his secretary for like 9 years and just wants to be done with it.

the whole brooding, egotistical boss thing kinda turned me off but you gotta give it a chance.

lowkey twisted.

another Park Seo Joon (I watched this before watching Fight My Way and lemme tell you, the whiplash was real)

same actress from Healer, she’s so G O O D

the side romances are great

* She Was Pretty

last one with Park Seo Joon I swear

it was pretty decent, also the first drama I ever watched (thank you YouTube algorithm)

instead of egotistical boss, you get a prick instead (I’m still salty about it okay)

they were friends, lost touch. and now they’re back together but get this, she ain’t who he thinks she is.

and he’s her boss on top of that.

main lead is so pretty (she IS pretty) she’s just so optimistic and empathetic.

second lead syndrome so tread carefully.

ending is cute, I’ll give it that.

* Touch Your Heart

if you liked the two Goblin characters (not the main two, I wish) then you’ll want to watch this after Goblin.

literally so fucking cute.

I’m not kidding, I got cavities from this shit.

had to pause multiple times because of how cringely cute it was.

she’s just an actress trying to method act for her lawyer role.

and he’s the lawyer who’s just so done but then he’s not!

* Because This Is My First Life

one needs money and one needs a room.

THERES A CAT

honestly such a wholesome x3 drama that makes you think.

is marriage all that??

Marriage - MoonMoon (it is all that)

really shows how sexism affects women in the workplace

kinda slow burn

* Cheese in the Trap

Kim Go Eun is a delight, I love her.

based off a popular WEBTOON by the same name.

apparently controversial because of that.

also SLS so be careful.

college is hard and not just because of classes.

basically college girl has a bad past experience with popular guy but suddenly he’s asking her to eat with him and it’s confusing her.

and then he’s not also what he seems.

wish it had more about the main guy because he was just so interesting (read the webtoon cause it’s actually really good)

also has a movie with some of the same cast (I watched it right after finishing the drama and it’s not as in depth obviously but the ending is better)

* The K2

action packed

the soundtrack is lit

Ji Chang Wook could kick my ass and I’d thank him.

boy gets caught in some high stakes politics and ends up as a bodyguard.

very political and it was hard for me to follow at times.

I’d die for Anna.

who do you trust? Idfk

the guy is literally so fed up 90% of the drama

iconic umbrella scene.

* Hotel Del Luna

when I die, you’ll find me at Hotel Del Luna: the hotel for the dead.

okay the main guy looks like he’s thirty but he’s actually 22 in this wtf that’s younger than me. I feel WRONGED.

you’ll love the entire hotel crew.

owner: she’s a problematic fav

the new manager: he’s just trying his best

OST is a bop.

lotta past and present overlapping in this and it’s great

* Oh My Venus

this one was cute but also problematic to me

pretty girl in high school became a chubby lawyer.

lotta relationship drama and cringe.

and the entire drama is about her losing weight and falling for stoic but actual soft boy “coachenim”.

ending could have been so much better oh my G O D.

probably my least favorite but I didn’t genuinely enjoy most of it.

* Suspicious Partner

lawyers, prosecutors, and murders OH MY!

you got an angry boi and a hot mess of a girl

hot mess gets herself in a bigger mess and becomes a murder suspect.

angry boi gets more angry

I have never yelled at a drama more than this one, jesus it was a ride.

the romance is there but in small doses.

forty 30 min episodes (20 hours)

hey look, Ji Chang Wook is in this one too.

* Descendants of the Sun

a soldier and doctor hit it off but then their moral views conflict with their romantic interest.

they go separate ways but then PLOT TWIST

surprise, doc. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.

the bromance is real in this one too.

Touch Your Heart recreated the iconic helicopter scene p e r f e c t l y

will add more as I continue to watch.

[big-bad-ulf]

The Prodigal Wolf Returns || Ulfric & Winn

Timing: Midday, Thursday 4th of June  Parties: @packsbeforesnacks, @big-bad-ulf Summary: Ulfric meets with Winn to discuss what drove him out of town, and consider their next moves.  Warnings: Mentions of assisted suicide, depression, and grief.

The clearing in the woods was quiet, remote, and neutral. Somewhere they could both feel at home, but that neither could claim ownership of. Hearing footsteps approaching, Ulfric dropped the cigarette stub between his fingers, stamping it out into the leaf litter below to conceal most of the evidence of the bad habit he’d picked up again after Celeste’s passing, though the smoke still lingered accusingly. “I suppose thanks are in order, for coming all the way out here,” he greeted Winn stoically, before finally turning to face the returned wolf. “As you’re aware, I’m not the one who you need to explain your actions to.” He hoped it was apparent he meant Layla and Ariana, but the young man didn’t have the best track record thinking things through to their logical conclusion. “But I’d like one, because as it stands I can’t imagine a scenario in which ‘sparring’ with a tiny human girl while in wolf form was necessary? Nor was fleeing town when you knew others of your kind were in danger.” The older werewolf’s tone was tired, weighed down by the collective suffering of White Crest’s pack over the last few weeks, but an anger borne of disappointment simmered beneath the weariness. 

Winn had been dreadin’ this conversation since he’d figured out everyone thought he’d skipped town. Ulfric was… intimidating, to say the absolute least. Winn could handle teenagers. He could handle folks in his own (relative) age group. And Simon was, well, kind, in a way that he wasn’t sure Ulfric was. But part of the problem was that he didn’t know Ulfric. Didn’t know most of the wolves, really, all friendliness aside. So, worst-case scenario, Ulfirc hated him. Best case scenario, Ulfric thought he was an idiot. As he entered the clearing, smoke tickled his nose. The Full Moon was on them and Winn was pretty sure he’d have smelled it even if Ulfric hadn’t just been smoking, but he stowed the frown. It wasn’t his place to judge someone’s habits; he’d had bad habits of his own. Still had some. “I appreciate it,” Winn said, “but it’s unnecessary. I should thank you, for bein’ willing to hear me out.” He leaned against a tree, scrubbing at his eyes. Reconciling with his father and (part of) his former pack hadn’t helped his sleep, much as he wanted it to and, with Natalia out of town, he was running low on aram. “Talked to both of them. Only one left that knew, I think, is you.”

He weighed what he knew about Blanche in his mind, what he knew about Ulfric, and his newfound fondness for the truth. “Blanche is… like a sister, to me. She’s a trouble magnet. If there’s supernatural nonsense goin’ on in White Crest, I head her way. ‘Cause chances are, if she isn’t already involved, she will be in, like, an hour. I know it was stupid, thought I had better control than I did. After I got a hold of myself, I dipped, for just a few minutes. Came back, told Blanche that I was leavin’ to take care of some things, left a note somewhere I thought she’d find it. Phone had been dead before that, and I figured if she told folks I was gone, they’d know that I’d be back soon and couldn’t really make a twelve-hour drive shorter.” Winn sighed. “That’s usually the part of the story where folks have questions, so hit me. Oh, right. Social media. A shirtless photo of mine got flagged and, since I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t contest the deactivation. That one was just coincidence. Lady Luck wasn’t in my favor.”

“It was stupid,” Ulfric confirmed when Winn was through with his explanation. He crossed his arms and paced in a tight, restless pattern as he weighed the other wolf’s actions, to decide what needed asking. It wasn’t like he could pass any judgment in an official sense, it would be up to Layla and Ariana and any of the other wolves who felt slighted to decide for themselves how they felt and how they wanted to interact with him on a personal level. But as a more experienced wolf, he felt obligated to address the aspects of Winn’s behavior that had the potential to harm the entire pack, or even their entire species. “I understand this girl means something to you, but we don’t need to be teaching more humans how to fight us.” Not that it was likely a human of average strength would stand much of a chance, even with whatever ‘mind powers’ Blanche supposedly possessed, but that was beside the point, their weaknesses were meant to stay between them. “Learning that would only help her against our kind, and if you’re worried any one of us is a threat to her that’s something that can be dealt with internally… It’s the fact you don’t seem to know your limits that troubles me most, though.”

Ulfric stopped and stood his ground as he came to that conclusion, looking over Winn appraisingly as he remembered the young wolf bragging about having killed a hunter. He’d chalked it up to mostly harmless arrogance at the time, but when he later explained he hadn’t done it on purpose that should’ve raised more red flags than it had. “You don’t seem like you’re that new to this. You should have a better grasp of how much control you do or don’t have. So, I suppose my questions are, do you know what pushed you over the edge? What do you plan to do to ensure this doesn’t happen again?”

Winn tried not to bristle at the half-accusation, pushing himself off the tree and walking towards Ulfric as, hopefully, non-threateningly as possible. “With all due respect, I never said that I was trainin’ her to take out wolves,” he said. And he hadn’t been! Werewolves were just big and so were, what, half of the things B would run into? “She only knows the bare minimum, assumin’ she hasn’t talked to Kaden ‘bout his other job. Ain’t hard for a human to try silver, given only every story about us tends to revolve ‘round that fact.” He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. “But we can argue ‘bout Blanche later, it’s not like I’ll be sparrin’ with her in wolf form again.”

“It worries me, too. ‘Cause I’ve…” he paused, looking up into the canopy to choose his words carefully. “Let me backtrack. You don’t know much about me, and it might be… helpful. Since you’re the wolf ‘round here with the most experience…” Now, Winn was pacing. “I was turned almost eight years ago. The only turned wolf in a pack of, uh, werewolf fraternity brothers, down south. They guided me through my first dozen shifts, taught me how to be calm. So, believe me when I say: I have plenty of control, ‘specially for not havin’ been a wolf all my life. And don’t get your britches in a bunch, I know that sounds like bullshit, right now.” Winn ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the conclusions he was beginning to draw about his time ‘changed.’ “I said I accidentally killed a Hunter… well, that was half-true. The accident was my own — I was sleepin’ with a Hunter, didn’t know he was a Hunter. The killing was on purpose. Self-defense, when he abused my trust, tried to go after my pack.

“After that, I was in… a dark place. That would’a been late 2015. Next thing I remember, I was in Europe, staggering in my human form out of the woods in early 2018. Thought, until recently, I’d spent a year or two in and out of my wolf form… but, I’m startin’ to question that. Couple theories’ve been tossed around, maybe it isn’t true. But when I… attacked B, it felt different. On a Moon, when I let the wolf come to the forefront… even when I was tryin’ to keep us separate, I still knew what was goin’ on. But with B, I don’t remember anything between getting thrown into a tree and pullin’ myself back from the brink. It was, well, dissociative is maybe the closest way to say it. I was there, and then I wasn’t. I’ve never lost control like that. Not even, y’know, when I was still new at this. It’s… it’s like hittin’ that tree pulled something out of me, something from under my conscious. I— Have you ever heard of anything like that? Where a wolf just… wasn’t himself, or even his wolf self? Even if it had been, say, Ariana, I don’t think it would’ve changed it. I still think that… part of me would want to attack everything.”

“There’s no need for that if you’re not going to do it again.” Ulfric agreed with Winn’s statement about Blanche. Truthfully, he did not want to be having this argument in the first place. A good old-fashioned brawl could be cathartic but having to play the role of stern lecturer just made feel weary, worn-out, and old. Running wild together, celebrating a successful hunt, sharing tales of old legends and recent exploits, those were the things he’d looked forward to about being a part of a pack again. Having to step up and confront things that put them in jeopardy was a responsibility that came with that privilege, but not one he enjoyed or hoped to have to take up often.

The older werewolf couldn’t contain a small grimace of disgust upon hearing Winn’s story. The chance that they might be a hunter was one of the many reasons it was a bad idea to get involved that way with humans, but he didn’t bother to voice his opinion on that. The man was an adult capable of making his own choices and he’d also spent a lot of his life as a human, so it was easy to see where that mistake had come from. Besides, it seemed he’d more than learned his lesson on that front.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to come back from a betrayal like that.” Ulfric replied at last, because the tale was tragic, if difficult for him to relate to on a personal level. “I haven’t heard of wolves entering an abnormal state like that,” Of course, his own ‘wolf self’ was similar in some ways to what Winn had described, an entirely animalistic being, but even then it retained the animal instinct not to attack its own kind without severe provocation and the risk of that side of himself emerging outside of a full moon was very low. “It seems the answers may lie in what happened in those lost years. What are the theories?” Staying transformed for the better part of years… Was such a thing truly possible? Ulfric could’ve almost been jealous of Winn for having that freedom from morals and responsibilities of the human world for so long, if the suffering it was causing him now wasn’t so apparent.

“Have you tried… it could be possible, or so I’ve heard, to bring some memories back through mystical means.” He suggested hesitantly. “I don’t like getting involved with such things, but you can’t just… go on the way you are, not without having to isolate yourself.” And that was the last thing he wanted for any of his kind, regardless of whether he held them in high regard or not. “If something were to bring on this feral state in front of a crowd that would mean disaster for all of us. And I’m sure you know that,” He leveled the younger wolf with a hard-nosed look. “Even if some of your actions suggest a distinct lack of judgment of the more mundane variety.”   

“I— Thanks.” Winn frowned, stopping his pacing as Ulfric spoke. “I have a… friend, who looked into some, uh, wolf causes. Didn’t find much, some reports of wolves stayin’ transformed who went… feral, who couldn’t change back into their human form.” What Rio had told him had scared him, but it hadn’t felt, well… correct. It seemed like even those wolves had the sense to not attack other wolves, that they retained some of their humanity, even if they became more animal than human. ‘Course, many of them didn’t live to tell their tale, and the records that Rio had found could only tell them so much. Some had been written by Hunters, others written by a wolf who had to put one of his own down. But Winn had come back, which seemed to be the wrinkle. No Hunter had ever tried to bring a wolf back to themselves, but not even a packmate could. So, if Winn had been transformed, how could he have come back?

“Given I’m back, though, my friend and I ruled that out. ‘Specially for a bitten wolf to come back from bein’ feral? Seemed unlikely. Not when there was another explanation. Which is, um…” Alright, okay. He could admit this aloud. “My dad is a huxian. He thinks it might be mystical, yeah. Somethin’ taken from me, or somethin’ I gave up.”

He swallowed, mouth dry. “I’m still tryin’ other avenues. R— My friend is lookin’ into… side-effects of wolfsbane. What shit street wolfsbane might get spiked with. I—” Winn scratched at his arms, almost wishin’ that he was wearin’ a shirt. “I took wolfsbane for months, after I killed that Hunter. Blamed myself for what happened to the pack. And I guess I… stopped.” He looked up into the canopy. “But you’re right. I need to figure out my shit, so I don’t put us all at risk. And, short of goin’ back on the wolfsbane — which I’m not gonna do — we really don’t have any leads. If there’s… a part of me, that’s missin’, then I don’t want to go on like this. I can’t. Even if…” Well, there was always this part. Winn looked back down at Ulfric, mouth set in a hard line. “Don’t… I don’t want your pity. This isn’t y’all’s problem, but there’s… well, if I’m missin’ two years, there’s a chance that…” He coughed. 

“There’s this Hunter I know. Luke mentioned him at the meeting. He… If I did somethin’ bad, hurt an innocent life, he’s the one I trust to… put an end to me. But I don’t want him knowin’ about what happened with B, and— I don’t know what could happen, if I get those memories back. No one I’ve talked to so far does. But if he’s… if I’m different, if I try to hurt someone, I need y’all to be willin’ to stop me. If that happens… As the person I am now, I want you… to take me down. If you can’t kill me, let me rot. If I can’t control myself, I am… I am not more important than all of you.” His voice was hoarse, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember crying this much in a very long time, but he needed to be firm. “Promise me. Please. I’m sorry, so sorry, to put that burden on you.” He held out his hand, for the other wolf to take, to seal the pact. “But it has to be done.”

As Winn’s explanation continued, it became more and more clear to Ulfric that his actions couldn’t be explained away by stupidity or cowardice. That was a shame really, both of those causes would’ve been much easier to deal with than this mystery of missing memory. Everything Winn said seemed to introduce a new piece to the puzzle (Huxians, wolfsbane, and of course, the seemingly inescapable interference of hunters), but it was unclear how they whole fit together or how much of a threat would be revealed when the big picture came together. When the young wolf came to the end of his speech and what he was asking him to do sunk in, Ulfric’s blood ran cold. Protecting the pack was paramount, but the thought of killing another wolf was profane, it would be the ultimate sacrilege towards the gift his ancestors had bestowed upon him. 

“I’m not going to sit idly by and let you harm other members of the pack, of that you can be certain,” he answered carefully, considering his options. If Winn were to slip into a permanent state of mindless, unbridled aggression, the usual ‘last resort’ of exile would do little to keep him from returning and causing havoc in their territory. Caging was another possibility, but he knew if their circumstances were reversed, he’d prefer a quick death over a life spent in chains, and it seemed the young man would as well. And finally, allowing hunters to deal with him in that state would only further inflame their hatred towards his kind, along with being plain undignified. “If your continued existence poses a threat to their survival, I promise you, I’ll do what needs to be done.” Ulfric accepted after a long moment’s deliberation, giving Winn’s hand a firm, resolute shake, though the clamminess of his palm betrayed his instinctual, visceral reaction against the plan. “Let’s not let it come to that though,” He added, more of an instruction than a hope. “I’ve had my fill of death for the time being.” 

““Thank you,” Winn said, quietly. “But… Agreed. Don’t want it to come to that.” It wasn’t that Winn hadn’t considered his death before. Hell, after what had happened with his old pack, there had been times where he’d… well, where he’d really considered dying. Winn liked to think he was better, now. If not totally well-adjusted, at least pretty solid on the ‘me dying wouldn’t fix the issue’ mantra. Counseling helped that, and learning about counseling only reinforced it. Which is part of why he knew: “I need those memories back, though. Even if it hurts, or if there’s… a reason I buried them. Now that I know they might not be there, it’s like… it’s like I can feel the space where they used to be. They’re a blindspot, sure, but more than that they’re… part of me. I can’t…” He sighed, sitting down on the forest floor and breathing in the woods for a moment before continuing. “As I am now, I can’t imagine what reason I could have had to bury them or… take them? I don’t know anybody who’d have the answers. Plus, there’s all the shit with Luke, and what happened with Ari, and… Fuck, man, I haven’t even asked you how you’re doing. I… I mean, I didn’t know Celeste, but I talked to Ari some, and… I know it’s a cheap question, but are you okay, Ulfric?”

“I think I can understand that. Why you’d want them back.” Ulfric assured him. He was familiar with having gaps in his memory, though he’d never had much choice in the matter. Berserkers had lost the ability to remember most of their actions while transformed centuries ago, and their intentions behind that, if there were any, were shrouded in mystery and myth. He did have a choice, though, between taking the easy way out and walking away from the carnage he’d caused while in wolf form and reconstructing what happened during that time as best he could. Ever since his ill-thought-out vengeance against the hunters who took his younger siblings, he’d chosen to do the latter. Chosen to look at the carnage and accept why it had happened, and that it was a part of him.

 “What we do is what we are,” he pondered aloud, before directing his attention back on Winn more fully. “I respect your choice and wish you luck. You can count on me for… whatever it is you think I can provide.” Which wasn’t much, given his lack of expertise in the realm of the magical. He couldn’t even truthfully say he’d provide friendly support, because he was still too wary of the young wolf and the potential danger he posed to the pack as a whole to consider him a friend. An alliance was clearly in both their best interests though, so Ulfric refrained from repeating his earlier comments about not wanting any help from him when he asked how he was. “I’ll survive, so will you,” he stated simply and firmly instead, almost ordering the fates to make it so. “Any other option doesn’t bear thinking about.” The older wolf turned briskly and took off into the trees. Action was required of both of them, if the White Crest pack was ever going to be able to consider itself safe. They could spare no more time for conjecture and contemplation.

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 1

Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 

hiiiiiii i feel bad for making all these empty promises so here’s something i know i can update - I’m gonna publish a very long slow burn ceo!batman!cal AU that is so self indulgent and sexy and yes Liam is in it and yes I know Summer already has an Aspen who dates Calum and no I’m not changing it!!!! love you all very much hope you enjoy this first taste!!! I’m gonna be updating about every week so stay tuned!

This is how it starts, all of it; Aspen gets a job at Hood Enterprises on a team that is trying to use molecular mechanisms based on fish skins as a burn treatment, someday making it available in hospitals, and maybe even commercially. It was big in Brazil when supplies were in short supply, and if they can make it available for the military, well- it would be low cost, biodegradable, and more effective.

It’s almost boring, looking back on it, but back then she was thrilled. She was in a new city, with roommates she loved, with her dream job lined up. She makes work friends, like real adults do - Beth from advertising, Michael from sales, Liam the administrative coordinator on the top floor, Ashton on her research and development team. They sit together at lunch. She learns the ropes.

It felt too perfect. And it was.

After her first week, Liam doesn’t come down to lunch for three days. After a few days, he shows up so she finally asks why; apparently he’s been finding a new assistant for the CEO. It’s “the second toughest job in the place, second to mine because I have to keep finding the damn things. You’ve been through our interview process, right? You know how stupid extensive it is? Ugh. Please let’s talk about something else.”

They talk about the CEO of Sionis Investments, instead, until Liam complains about that, too. Nasty business; CEO was kidnapped, blackmailed, and the police are saying they have no leads. Aspen isn’t sure she believes that. She tells that to Ashton later over the centrifuge. She hopes she gets a hunky bodyguard out of it, though. “I’m an asset, Ashton.”

She falls into a routine while they research the new bandage. She’s taken to calling it Nurse Shark, while Ashton is calling it BAMF (Bandage And Medicine Fish). Beth says there’s a reason they’re kept in the lab and not in advertising; her money’s on Pisciform, from the Latin. Aspen says that she minored in English and she knows a good idea when she hears one. Liam says that Calum Hood’s new assistant is finally working out; maybe he’ll be able to go a month without having to fire him and take over. Michael wants to know if that’s the only thing he thinks about, Liam? Liam tells Michael to shut up or he’ll make Mikey a secretary. Michael throws a french fry at him, even though they’re all way too old for it.

Those are the good days.

She’s researching alternative biodegradable fibers to base the bandage on (partly just because they’re waiting for the shareholders meeting to pass and give them a direction) when she meets Calum Hood for the first time. She didn’t expect to see him until the Christmas party but he comes into her - well, Ashton’s - lab in a gust of expensive cologne. Liam is with him. They talk in hushed tones to Ashton while she pretends to read through the Canadian Journal of Botany. Liam sneaks peeks at her the whole time, but she doesn’t let herself guess why until the boys wave her over.

Calum Hood is tall and broad and he doesn’t smile very much. Ashton’s voice is warm when he talks about Aspen, the work she does, her history of project management, her research abilities. She’s up for the position as personal assistant, she realizes, and she doesn’t know how she feels about that. She loves Nurse Shark or BAMF or whatever you want to call it. She didn’t get two degrees in molecular biology to pick up dry cleaning. Liam is nervous, too, like nothing she’s ever seen. Aspen wants to take risks, though, and she agrees to be interviewed for the position later that afternoon.

It is casual Friday. She doesn’t even have a good cardigan. This is a bad idea.

Ha. Like that’s ever stopped her.

Calum Hood - Mr. Hood - had been quiet in the lab, and he was quiet at the interview. Liam asked her most of the questions. It’s weird to have her friend ask her about her experience in administrative duties. He doesn’t even flash her a reassuring smile when she says she doesn’t know how many words she can type a minute.

It’s the first time she wonders if something is wrong.

It’s not the only time, either, not even in the interview. Near the end Mr. Hood cuts in and asks her about her family, where she worked in the past, her plans for the future. He has a look in his eye that makes her feel like a specimen. Like he’d give anything to dissect her.

There’s only so much of it she can take. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel comfortable talking about that right now,” she says when he asks about her medical history. “I don’t think you’re allowed to ask me that,” she says when he asks her if she had a boyfriend or husband. She didn’t, but that’s not any of his fucking business and it shouldn’t affect his decisions in hiring her - she doesn’t want to be hired, anyway, she likes the lab. Doesn’t need some wunderkind in a fancy suit to invade her professional and private life. Doesn’t need overtime pay. Well, she does, but not that badly. She can always find some work on the weekends. It’ll figure itself out.

It’s only two hours before Liam pokes his head back in the lab. Aspen crosses her fingers behind her back, but it doesn’t change anything; Mr. Hood wants to talk to her. Liam’s face is like stone as he leads her to the elevator and takes her to the top floor, and she’s still trying to unbutton her lab coat as he leads her to the CEO’s office. She feels like she’s in trouble, but he can’t fire her for protecting her rights, can he? She moved to Gotham for this job, she can’t lose it now.

Calum Hood asks her to sit down.

Liam leaves and closes the door behind him.

“Before anything else, I’d like to apologize for the way I treated you in the interview.” He starts off, making Aspen struggle to hide her surprise. “It was disrespectful and invasive. I needed to make sure- the nature of this position is that you would be privy to a good amount of confidential information and I need a personal assistant who knows the boundaries. That is, if you want the job.”

He’s actually- she’s got the job? That’s- Aspen could have the job, if she wanted. She could work with a brilliant CEO on top of the heap. She could have that.

But.

Aspen takes a deep breath to steady herself and properly look at her boss. She’d been too scared to before, just barely brave enough to hold his gaze, but now she picks her head up and tries to analyze him. He’s big, even for a young man. He looks solid enough to carry a company, even if he also looks a little young for it. He’s handsome. He’s well-dressed. He’s… frankly, he’s terrifying. He looks tired. She doesn’t trust him, she realizes.

“I don’t know, Mr. Hood. With all due respect, I heard about when Cathy Potolsky got fired. It seems like a very high-stress position, and I don’t know if I’m qualified to meet your exacting standards.” Aspen says. She tries to be sweet about it, but she’s still a little mad about the questions he asked her. She hasn’t been able to focus on plant fibers all afternoon, either, and it was all his fault. Should she care if he can tell? Eh, probably.

That business with Cathy had been nasty, too. Liam had told them in low voices how Mr. Hood had thrown a vase across the room when Cathy left too many voicemails go unheard. Aspen didn’t know if she could put up with that. She was terrible at replying to texts.

Mr. Hood has eyes like a rifle’s scope. “You are if I say you are. You seem very capable, and Dr. Irwin showed me some of your writings.”

He wasn’t going to let this go easily. “I’m flattered.” She says, but it’s an attempt to get him to stop trying to persuade her. “To be perfectly frank, Mr. Hood, I really do like my work in the lab, and if it’s all the same to you I’d rather not put that position in jeopardy to work as your assistant.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and for a second she thinks she’s out of the woods.

“How about this, then; if we find that you working as my assistant isn’t working out, I’ll send you back down to work in the labs. I’ll guarantee you a position with your project, or, hell, any project you want.” His eyes search her. “The position comes with a promotion and a better holiday bonus. We both know Dr. Irwin can’t pay you the overtime you deserve.”

It stings, but he’s right. She sighs. “Can I think it over?”

“Of course.” Mr. Hood stands, shows her to the door. “Why don’t you take fifteen minutes to enjoy the top floor? I assure you it’s a far cry from the basement.”

“Fifteen-”

“I don’t think you understand how urgently I need this position filled.” Mr. Hood’s voice leaves no room for argument. Aspen swallows a scowl as she exits the office, where Liam’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well?” He asks as soon as the door closes behind her. Aspen doesn’t think she’s ever seen his brows creased like that.

“He offered me the job.”

Liam snorts. “Of course he did. You’re not taking it, though.”

It’s very clearly not a question, and all of Aspen’s anger makes her lightheaded for a second. How can Liam talk to her like that after her scumbag of a boss tries to manipulate her in a job interview she didn’t even want? He’s supposed to be her friend. She takes a deep breath before she answers, just to be safe. “I don’t know. I could really use the money, and - I mean, if I can look after a lab, I should be able to look after one man, right?”

Liam looks uncomfortable. “Aspen, you have to be kidding yourself.”

“Wow, thanks for the support.” Aspen says, but she can’t keep the sarcasm from steeping through.

“I’m serious. You’re not qualified, I’ve seen your people skills, and Calum Hood eats girls like you for breakfast. Take a look at yourself. You don’t belong up here.”

Aspen doesn’t break Liam’s gaze, but she does a mental check. She’s in her stained polyester lab coat and jeans from the Gap, while Liam - he’s in a shirt that probably cost more than her weekly food budget. The people humming quietly through reception are poised, polished, like chrome, and she’s suddenly all the more aware of her split ends and chipped nails. He’s not wrong.

But this isn’t right.

“What’s wrong with you? How can you - Liam.” She says, and it sounds like pleading. At least she’s not yelling yet, though. She’s tired and frustrated and it’s almost 4:30 and if she was back in the lab Ashton would be telling her to sneak out by now but she’s in this shitty situation instead. What the hell?

Liam’s sweet face looks mean, now, malice in the curve of his brows. Aspen might be going crazy. “I’m trying to protect you, Aspen, you wouldn’t last a day. You look like you’re going to cry, honestly. Save yourself the humiliation. I’ll tell Calum you refuse.” He reaches for the doorknob before she can say anything.

Aspen’s not even remotely close to tears, and she’s not about to let some jealous secretary fuck this up for her, either. As Liam turns the knob she grabs his wrist, trying to keep him from fucking with her career any more, but he grabs her arm to pull her back - is he trying to fight her, right here, right now? Is he actually- Aspen jerks in his grip, and when Liam pushes back he pushes her into the door and it swings open and -

In an instant they separate. Mr. Hood takes his sweet time looking up from his papers, where Aspen’s nervously pushing hair out of her eyes. “That was quick.” He says, all mild.

Liam acts first. “Aspen wants to say that she can’t-”

“-can’t turn down your offer.”

Was that her who just spoke? Aspen tries to keep herself calm, rock-steady as Calum Hood looks her over slowly. Liam is silent beside her, but the tension feels sharp and painful between them. They’re two ends of a capacitor, building up charge.

Mr. Hood’s voice breaks the silence. “Excellent. Everything Cathy left behind is in the office, that’s everything you’ll need. I arrive at the office at 8:30 every morning; I expect you to meet me Monday with my coffee and daily schedule ready.”

Aspen blinks. “I- great. Excellent. I’ll have that.”

Her new boss stands up and comes around the desk to shake her hand, and Aspen swears she catches the first real smile she’s seen from him. “I’m so glad to have you.” He says. He’s warm, is what he is, for the very first time. When he draws away, Aspen can see why he’s a leader and CEO, just for a second.

The second passes. “Liam will show you to your new office and make sure you’re set up. I’m sure he can help you with any questions you may have.” Calum nods to Liam and gives her another tiny, tiny smile, effectively dismissing them. Aspen says thank you one last time until the door closes behind them, and then it’s just her and Liam again.

He speaks first, after a very long second. “What the fuck did you do?”

“You tried to ruin my chances here, and you grabbed me -”

“You grabbed me first!”

“Yeah, because you were going to tell the CEO that I didn’t want the job. Which - what the hell is wrong with you?” Aspen hisses. She hopes Mr. Hood’s door is thick and soundproof.

“Me? You should have just listened to me. Fuck.” Liam swears again.

“You shouldn’t have treated me like that.” Aspen snaps, and then she makes herself take another deep breath. He looks… genuinely distressed. Aspen, against her better instincts, feels bad for the asshole. “That’s the second time I’ve ever heard you swear. You’re really wound up, huh?” She teases very gently. It’s mostly out of hope.

Liam doesn’t answer right away, just points to an office by a secretary. “That one’s yours. Good luck.” This man, who Aspen thought was her friend, has never sounded colder.

The office is dark when she steps in, and she has to fumble for the lightswitch. It takes longer than it should. Once she finds the lights she sees the planner lying open on the desk, weighed down with post-it notes. There’s a fancy computer monitor and a sad-looking African Violet on the corner of the desk. The space is nice, though; it’s airy. There are proper windows and everything, and there’s just glass dividing it from the main entryway so it feels secluded but still close enough to be useful. It is nicer than the basement labs, she’s not going to lie to herself. She’s seen Devil Wears Prada, she knows what this is supposed to do to her life and soul and all, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some perks.

That reminds her.

“Liam?” She asks, poking her head out of the doorway. His office is just across from hers, and his door is open, she knows he can hear her. He doesn’t answer, though, just keeps clicking at his computer. “Liam?”

“Mr. Payne?” She jokes, but his head turns and her heart sinks. That’s how he wants it, then?

He doesn’t answer her, just looks at her with this blank fucking look in his eyes all expectant. He’s got this look in his eyes like she’s already let him down. “How does Mr. Hood take his coffee?” Aspen asks. It sounds a bit like pleading, even to her, but she’s confused, and it’s Liam - he feels bad eating sushi because of the little baby fish eggs, for chrissakes, she doesn’t know why he’s acting this way.

He looks angry already. “God, it hasn’t been five minutes and you’re floundering.”

“I’m not- we’re on the same team-”

“Thought this was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, hm? Act like it.” He turns away after that.

Aspen feels cold all fucking over. “Fine. Thank you.” She says, feeling too sad to spit back venom. She’s confused. She thought - nevermind.

It takes her exactly eighteen minutes to clear out her desk, stealing a box from Ashton so he’ll have to visit her to get it back. “It’s lonely at the top,” she jokes, although she already knows that it really fuckin’ is. At least Ashton hasn’t turned on her; he gives her a hug and a warm smile, and says he’ll keep her updated on the project “until Mr. Hood gets tired of you and you come back home”. For a moment, she wonders if it’s too late to back out.

Aspen bundles her lab coats into the box and doesn’t let herself turn back.

Once she gets back to her lofty prison, she starts typing up a template for Calum Hood’s day to day. This time, she notices that she’s got her very own printer, and she gets a little too excited about that but she doesn’t think anyone outside the glass walls notices. She takes a call from the Daily Gotham and manages to put the reporter on hold all by herself, and gets the secretary to teach her how to transfer calls. Janice also tells her Mr. Hood takes his coffee decaf with one cream and he’s partial to The Coffee Lab but also Cafe Reznikoff if she doesn’t want to go four blocks out of her way. Aspen could kiss Janice, she’s so thankful.

Aspen feels a little goofy but she prints out her brand new template and starts transcribing Mr. Hood’s plans in her neatest writing. It’s past 5:30 when she finishes, and she starts to pack up her things when she remembers that she’s not a researcher right now and she’s has to ask Mr. Hood if she can go home. Her hand hovers over the phone before she makes the decision to stand up and go talk to him face to face, like a grown up. Liam is still at his desk when she walks by, but she doesn’t pause to look at him as she knocks on the CEO’s door.

Mr. Hood sounds stressed when he says “come in,” but Aspen’s spent her whole afternoon in the belly of the beast so it barely phases her. When she enters he’s got a cell phone in his hand and a look on his face so she doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Is there anything else you need me for today, or…”

God, she feels underdressed standing near him. “There’s - no, there’s nothing. Go home, Aspen, I’ll see you on Monday.” He says, with a wave of his hand he’s perfected through countless assistants before her.

“Eight thirty, decaf, one cream.” She says, smiling. She finds she wants him to smile back.

She gets something stiff-lipped, but his lips curve in the right direction and really, that’s enough. It’s technically her first day. She’s content. She steps out of the office and closes the door, and breezes through her packing up. “Night, Janice. Goodnight, Mr. Payne.” She hums on her way past, so he knows at least she can conduct herself civilly.

The Aspen who steps out of the building doesn’t feel like the one who walked in for work a few hours ago. She knows this.

Anyway. That's how it starts. 

[chestnutroan]

Who is Ben? Have you talked about this character before?

Ben is my sole survivor, and my longest standing oc. I’ve posted a LOT of art of him but I’ve always put off talking about him at length but now I’m out of the rough when it comes to having the will to do anything, ill talk about him!

Frank (Benjamin) Romara was born in 2044 in Arkansas to African/Italian parents. When he was 13, he, his parents and his younger brother Gene were uprooted to Boston under absolutely no single good reason given at the time from his father. His dad died probably not a year later, and combined with the massive change of life Ben’s education went down the shitter, and he had to repeat freshman year. At the end of what should have been his sophomore year he got put in a program for “at risk youth”. 

[Detail about him, about Nick Valentine and Fallout Lore etc under the cut!]

The program was basically about increasing the amount of people entering government related jobs, because due to rising contempt less and less people were going down that path, and that’s bad for a whole lot of reasons, for the government at least. When it was first conceived of, it was more of a support scheme for kids not going onto greater things, but it expanded to where it was mandatory for any teen that met the requirements to be put through the system and spat out with more allegiance to their country. Ben checked off a lot of boxes, being poor, having bad grades etc. And at first Ben didn’t really mind all that much, given his lack of direction it was comforting to know that he’d be able to find a stable job to support his family, and that was exactly what seemed to be promised to him. He hadn’t yet gained a fervent desire to see the government crumble, the only part of it he hated being cops, who brushed his dads murder off like it didn’t matter. plus, the program offered extensive healthcare (a leftover enticement from when the program was optional), and it looked like the only way he’d be able to transition.

It wasn’t long, however, before it became increasingly apparent how insidious the program really was. For one thing, he was to be put into work (or training for whatever he will be assigned) at 18, meaning he’d have to leave high school with a sophomore level education. This was, of course, by design to keep the kids entering the workforce in that same workforce. When he was 17, he took a GOAT and got given two options: enter the police force or the US army. He didn't want to do absolutely either, but he picked the former, just because it seemed like his only shot to stay with his family. By the time he was 21, he’d become a detective, and before he could ever start to work on his own soil he was transferred to Chicago due to lack of workforce there.

And all over again, he’d been plucked out of what he knew and dunked somewhere else, and worse yet, he doesn’t even have anyone he knows to help him go through it. Most of the people at his station don’t really want anything to do with him, but he gets on with his job (his efficacy depending on whether or not he thinks hes doing the right thing), and quickly becomes the new hotshot ass hole there for his attention to detail, if not his actual ability to decipher motivations and piece things together. And this caught the attention of Nick Valentine.

Nick was the original hotshot ass  hole ofc, and it was owed to this that Ben, despite being to be shown the ropes, that he didn’t partner with the new guy despite being the only person there who could have helped him out. Nick was very, very good at his job, and due to his insecurities he wasn’t about to stop being the best and give people the chance to realise he doesn't get better than how effective he is at his work. I won’t get into the root of his insecurities, but he genuinely believes that he would lose all respect and that if he ever stopped being a try hard people would lose all reason to bother with him at all, and all he wants is for others reach out and be a friend to him. hes dealing with a lot of the same loneliness Ben is, but so long as he doesn't lose the facade of being a fully functional adult with a good job and a ‘loving’ wife he wont have to introspect and face who he thinks he is deep down (i.e. a man incapable of loving his wife romantically because of some personality fault he cant comprehend of how to fix as opposed to him just being gay and having a lot of internalised homophobia).

It takes Ben and Nick both reaching the point where they snap under the weight of the world they live in and the people who occupy it for them to come together. Nick ended up actually asking to take Ben on as a partner, and it took a lot of the load off of emotionally crippling work (serving a government neither of them believed in but being wholly incapable of escaping it, status quo being almost the only thing keeping them in place as opposed to trying to physically escape what they're doing together) but better yet, for nick, Ben helped bring out a side of him that wasn’t so afraid to be known by others, and he started opening up to other people at the same time as growing closer to him. (I think its important to like.not that nick doesn't wholly rely on Ben for all of his self esteem etc Ben is just a positive impact who gives him a space where nick can learn for himself that his worth doesn't depend on other peoples perception of him.) Nick realises that a lot of his negative perception/jealousy/etc of Ben when they first met was because he saw a lot of himself in him, Nick was in more or less him when he started some 5 or so years ago, and Nick helps Ben out in the way he wished someone had been there for him because he cares a hell of a lot about him and wants him to have the best chance at things.

And they grow into better people and just at the pique of things, where Nick is enjoying not being in an abusive relationship and staying with Ben while he gets back on his feet, Ben gets drafted and is trained at first to become a power armored foot soldier (standing at nearly 6′6″ he’d be a monument of fuck you to the enemy) but do to his deliberately bad aim with weapons, hes instead trained to pilot a vertibird, where hes then shipped off to anchorage. its there that he goes MIA after going against orders with his co pilot to provide medical assistance to a group of people stranded off from communication he spotted in flight earlier. Ben ended up glad later on that he and his co pilot were shot down, because for all 25 hours he was left dying in the snow, it meant that he didn't have to justify him going against orders by bringing back Chinese soldiers who’d end up a lot worse for wear than him. By the time his KIA status was revoked (they weren’t about to announce the miracle of his survival before they knew he’d survive lol) he’d already had a funeral, which Nick had attended, because I write like everything's a soap opera. but yeafksf him dying and attending his funeral left nick in a lot of grief, because he’d thought he’d have forever with Ben to go slow with him into being in a relationship and now Nick thought he’d never get that chance. and when they meet back up after it all when Ben returns it’s romantically charged to say the least.

Obviously I haven’t been sticking entirely to lore with this but the lore presented in fallout 4 is fucking bullshit so. i hesitate to call this a fix but i need to put in this disclaimer before i start spouting off. hey how about instead of nicks fiance getting iced jenny lands was actually his partner once he transferred to Boston to be with his husband to be, and she was cruelly twisted against her own intentions to try and kill nick because Eddie winter put her family in jeopardy and Eddie doing this was a coordinated attack towards them both that hes not just powerful enough to get revenge he can do it in such a way that they cant even trust the people around them. And nick got his mind juices squeezed or brain scanned whatever because of the resulting trauma of being shot by his best friend jenny. and also ‘Shaun’ is Ben and Nicks kid Max and upon learning later as a gen 2 that his son is the leader of a great source of trauma for nick hes forced to introspect in ways that have more tangible effects because his ability to decide who he is as a man ties into immediate problems  And nick doesn't have to focus on revenge disguised as justice because he has a responsibility to live in the here and now.

Thank you for this ask!! I hope that was coherent enough to understand kjdsf if you have any more questions about him or anything else I talked about I’d be flattered to hear them!

[imagine-loki]

Giftless

TITLE: Giftless CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 22/50

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

Things were fairly quiet until Fury came to talk to all of the supers (and you) one morning in March. “Listen up! This is a reminder that the producers from the Avengers movies will be on campus shooting their next film, starting today. This place will be crawling with actors, cameras, and all sorts of crap we usually don’t have to deal with.”  Fury and the team let them film pieces of the movies at the tower, provided they didn’t interfere with their operations and only filmed anyone from the tower with permission and only when that person was in costume. They let you be extras and side characters occasionally, and sometimes the supers even used their powers on film to cut down on the CGI budget.  You were sure Fury got something out of this, but he never said what it was. “They won’t be in the building except during scheduled times, which you’ll have plenty of notice about. Any time you go outside, you must be in costume. I don’t want anyone’s secret identities compromised. Ironman, Loki, Kat, you’re excused from that of course.” Tony’s secret identity had already been compromised, everyone knew who you were thanks to Tony, and Loki didn’t have a secret identity, nor did he care to.

Loki took you out that day to a matinee ballet. He wore his perfect all-black suit again and convinced you to wear the green dress he had gotten you. It was still just cool enough to wear it. The ballet was amazing, you couldn’t believe how effortless they made dancing on their toes look.

You were walking back to the compound from the parking lot when you were stopped by the film crew. That wasn’t atypical, they would reroute people who were in jeopardy of getting in the way of their shots.  “Tom! Good! You’re already in costume, come on, your scene is up!” one of the producers got ahold of Loki and led him towards the cameras and the set that had been set up on your property. 

Apparently, they had gotten Loki confused with his actor. Loki looked over at you apologetically, but let them lead him away, unwilling to harm the mortals. You followed as far as you could. You had a feeling this was going to be fun.

/How long before they figure out you’re not Tom?/ you thought at him. He turned to you with a glint in his eye and a smirk. He was going to keep the game up as long as possible. 

They actually ran a few takes of the scene (how Loki knew the lines you didn’t know) before the real Tom showed up between takes. He walked straight over to Loki, thinking he was a stunt double. They were both wearing the infamous black suit of sexy. No wonder the film crew had gotten confused.  They looked at each other and both started laughing after a moment when they figured out what was going on. One of them went back to doing takes of the scene, the other came over to stand with you and watch. He put his arm around you gently.

You looked up and laughed. “You’re not Loki,” you told him softly. It was Tom, the actor, not your boyfriend. You knew the difference immediately.  Tom was warm where Loki ran cold due to his heritage.  

Tom laughed and held his hands up in surrender.  “I apologize for touching you without permission. Loki said you would find it amusing,” he explained immediately. He was a perfect gentleman after all.  His accent wasn’t quite as honey sounding as Loki’s most of the time, but it was really close. They also looked nearly identical.

“It’s alright. Loki was right. It was amusing,” you replied with a warm smile. It was a fun joke. “I’m sorry about him. They thought he was you and dragged him over to do the scene. Since then…” you shrugged as if that were enough explanation. “I think he’s trying to see how long it will take them to figure out that he’s not you,”

“You’re the only one who’s noticed so far. I’m disappointed in Chris. We’ve done how many movies together? He should know better.” Tom sighed in exasperation at his coworker.  Chris was the actor who played Thor. It took a few more scenes before Chris finally did figure out that Loki wasn’t Tom.

“Who are you?” he boomed in his Thor voice. “You’re not Tom!” he accused, probably thinking Loki was a stunt double. 

Loki did the character’s head bow and held up his hands in surrender with his trademark smirk.

“Game’s over,” Tom said sadly. “It was a fun game too. Thank you for keeping you company, Miss -?” he asked politely, though of course he knew who you were.

“Y/N Stark,” you filled in, just as politely.  You could play the game to let him properly introduce yourselves.  “Trade you autographs?” you asked with a grin. He chuckled and you did exchange autographs.

“I best go rescue Loki and do my job,” he said once the autographs had been exchanged. Chris was still shouting, but it was in fun and the crew was laughing at Loki’s antics since he was showing them some magic tricks. Loki and Tom posed for pictures before work began again. The crew let you stick around and watch the taping, which was a lot of fun, especially since you got to meet and hang out with the other actors as well.

Tom came back over to you on a break between scenes. Loki summoned him a cup of tea, which Tom accepted with appreciation. “Do you two want to pretend to be me and Kelly for the next scene?” he asked while he sat with you and enjoyed his tea. Kelly was the one playing Sigyn, Loki’s romantic interest.

“Won’t the production crew get mad about being tricked twice in one day?” you asked. You were also really recognizable. 

Tom shook his head.  “Not on this one. You’re a dead ringer for Kelly in costume. I think the designers used you as inspiration for the character design. Trust me, this scene will be perfect for you two,” Tom said with a grin. It was far too close to Loki’s Cheshire Cat grin.  You were quickly finding that he could be just as mischievous as his character. You and Loki agreed to try it and Tom went off to have a word with Kelly. She grinned and gave you a thumbs up. She came over to sit with you until the break was over.

“Tom! Kelly! You’re up!” the director called. Loki took your hand and the two of you went over instead of the actual actors. You were nervous about this trick, sure you were going to be caught. It seemed too important for you to be playing around with. You weren’t an actress, and didn’t know Kelly’s lines or anything.

You shouldn’t have bothered worrying. The entire scene was you running to Loki and him kissing you deeply. It took a couple takes to get it just right, but the kiss was a really good one and the director seem pleased, until he realized that neither of you were his actors.

“Tom!” he yelled, mock-glaring over at Tom and Kelly who were drinking tea and watching the fun. “He’s doing your job better than you are!” he called, laughing. The entire crew started laughing again.

“But they’re already dating. I figured they could do the kiss scene justice,” Tom replied innocently as he came over. He looked you over. “Great job, by the way,” he told you. “Are you going to the comic con tomorrow?” You shook your head while Loki just looked confused. Tom handed you two passes he just happened to be carrying. “Come in costume to Hall H at noon. I promise you some fun,” he told you, which was all the enticement Loki needed to go to the event. 

“What is a comic con?” Loki asked as you finally walked into the compound.

“People dress up as comic book and movie characters. There’s shops and talks about the comics,” you tried to explain.  It was an experience one kinda had to go to in order to understand it.  

“It sounds like fun. We should attend,” Loki replied.  He just wanted to see what Tom had up his sleeve, but he would enjoy the rest of the con as well. 

“You’ll have to make our costumes,” you reminded him. He nodded. That was no big deal for him.

*

The next day you went to the convention in full costume. The same costumes you’d been in for the movie. You found Tom and Kelly in costume in Hall H just before noon. “You made it!” Tom lit up in excitement. He handed Loki a sheet of paper while Kelly handed one to you. Both of them were grinning. “Here are your lines. You’ll get the cues from Mark there,” he pointed at one of the guys at the presenter’s table. You looked over at Loki and both of you exchanged a glance wondering what you had gotten yourselves into. “We have parts to play too,” Tom reassured you. They went to go get ready for their parts while you read over you part and grinned. 

This would be fun, indeed.

You stood off stage while the crowd filed in to the conference hall. You were nervous, and kept clutching on to Loki’s hand. “You’ll be fine, love. This is just for fun,” he reminded you. “There is no reason to be nervous.” You wished you believed him, but you didn’t want to mess this up. There were lots of fans counting on you and you really weren’t an actress.  Loki was the one with the flair for drama.

The presenter started his speech about the Avengers movies and how well they did and all sorts of nonsense to talk about the new movie coming out.  “We are currently in production on the latest installment-” The lights suddenly went out. That was Loki’s cue. He walked out onto the stage to begin his own speech.

“People of New York, look how far you have fallen!” He announced. “Look how you huddle, scared in the dark, waiting for your saviors to come. They are not coming to rescue you this day. All you have is me!” The lights came back on to reveal Loki standing in the middle of the stage. The crowd roared. “I am Loki of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose. Swear loyalty to me, swear your city over to me, and you shall live in riches in my kingdom. Kneel to your overlord!” he boomed. You saw his expression that he was enjoying every moment of this. “I said KNEEL~!” He used magic to amplify his voice even more than the room should have allowed. At once the cheering roaring crowd dropped to their knees in front of him.

That was your cue. You straightened your spine, gathered your courage, and stormed out onto the stage. “LOKI!” you shouted as you stomped toward him. He looked over at you, shocked and acting sheepish and embarrassed. He gave you an elegant bow while the crowd called:

“Sigyn!” 

You raised a hand to them and they fell silent at once. “Are you pretending to rule these mortals again?” you demanded of Loki.

“Of course not, my love!” he protested, rising from his bow and trying to look innocent. “I would not!”

You looked out at the crowd, glad that you was blinded by the lights and couldn’t actually see them. “Was he, dear mortals?” you asked them, calmly, sweetly, gently. They roared in cheers and applause. “There is my answer, Loki,” you replied, turning back to him.

“But, darling~” he started. You glared, your hands on your hips.  The perfect picture of an insulted angry wife.

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me, Loki Odinson,” Loki went by Odinson to get the people to accept him if nothing else.  “Back home with you, now!” you ordered, pointing off stage.

“My love, they need someone to rule over them!” he protested. You snapped your fingers and pointed again off stage.

“Be gone with you. They shall have their ruler,” you turned back to the crowd. “Won’t you, my dears?” They all roared in applause while Loki skulked off toward off stage, his head hung in shame.

“IMPOSTERS!” Came a roar from the crowd. The lights changed and a spotlight appeared on Tom and Kelly, who stormed up towards the stage from the back of the auditorium. There were even more cheers from the crowd as they realized what was going on.  “Foolish mortals allowing yourselves to be tricked by such amateurs. I am your God. The true Loki of Asgard and you shall kneel before me!” Loki took your hand and teleported you off stage where you could watch the rest of the act from the sidelines. At the end, a trailer for the new movie was shown, and you and  Loki were brought back out on stage to bow to cheers from the crowd.

“That was a lot of fun,” you told Tom and Kelly after the event, once the audience had cleared. “Thank you for letting us do it,” they both smiled and said how it had been partially the director’s idea. He thought it would be good publicity. You ended up getting Tom’s and Kelly’s phone numbers and friending them on social media, promising that you’d keep in touch, especially through their production of the new movie on location. They were great fun to be around.  You found you couldn’t be terribly surprised that you’d become fast friends with them already.

[corruptedsorrows]

what do you think of chuuyaxdazai? chuuyaxatsushi? chuuyaxakutagawa? chuuyaxyasano? chuuyaxranpo? chuuyaxkunikida? chuuyaxtachihara? chuuyaxango? chuuyaxtsujimura? chuuyaxodasaku?

   Heck that’s a lot of ships anon. I guess the easiest way would be to put them in a sort of number ranking and explain my reasoning, yes? Let’s go with that. 

   So the range is 0 - 10, 10 is OTP/intensely shipped and loved, 0 is absolute NOTP, don’t bring it near me with a 20 foot pole. Sound good? Alright let’s go! 

(read more because this is a titan of a post)

ChuuyaxDazai

Hnnngh… my grandmaster of BSD ships. I don’t think it should come as much surprise to anyone here that this is my OTP, ranking an easy 10/10 ship. There is so much complexity and depth to these two I could rant for hours, but I’ll hold my tongue. I will say at the very least, with this being my OTP I am honestly quite choosy about who I open my heart to with it.

I want to explore all facets of this ship, not just jump straight into romance and smut (although yes, I do like it). More than anything I want to explore the drama between them. I want to have fun shenanigans of teasing and their childish banter. I want Chuuya to understand the shit that goes through Dazai’s head and pull him back from the cliff he’s drawn to–if only for a moment. Chuuya knows how much his head tortures him now, he understands that after having spent so long together. He knows he absolutely isn’t the cure Dazai needs, but he can’t help longing for it. The double edged sword of always being the one passed over for Dazai certainly doesn’t make admitting what he feels towards the man any easier to understand. Why should he want to be involved with the person he’s always being compared to? 

This sort of depth is what I’m looking for in anyone that wants to RP this ship with me. I want to dive into the core of SKK and swim in those troubled waters. I want them to fight and scream at each other, to reach their limits and break down as the finally have their masks shattered. These two know each other to such a depth–even with all of their bad blood that they can still understand each other’s thoughts and actions without speaking on it. They can still trust each other with their lives and know that even though everyone else they thought they could trust–that may have even shown kindness towards them, has let them fall. No matter how badly these two fall out with each other, they’ll never let the other fall past the point of being saved. At the end of the day they’ll be the one outstretching their hands to catch each other.

ChuuyaxAtsushi

I WANT TO RP WITH AN ATSUSHI SO FRICKING BADLY. As the brutality of SSKK I want Chuuya to mentor Atsushi and work with him on accepting his ability. Chuuya’s gone through so much of the same strife and struggle I think these two could understand each other very well. Granted, they’d probably clash on the surface given how little patience Chuuya has for those too afraid to fight (it’s the Port Mafia way), but knowing Atsushi’s fears about hurting others with his ability and being afraid of it he understands very well. He knows what it’s like to feel like a monster, to be transformed into something when everyone else’s ability is merely an extension of themselves. It’s different when you become something instead of wield it. 

I want these two to have these talks so badly, and I sincerely hope Kafka will give us this content because I think Atsushi could stand to grow so much under Chuuya’s guidance. Again, like Akutagawa I view these more on a familial/mentor relationship, but I think unlike Akutagawa, Chuuya would be able to dote on Atsushi more and be allowed to express himself in more heartfelt ways–like hugs and gentle hair brushes… things like that. I’d put these two at 6/10. 

ChuuyaxAkutagawa

Oh Akutagawa… while I don’t really ship these two, I like to think of Chuuya as something like the replacement for Akutagawa. I don’t think Chuuya did a very good job considering how much Akutagawa still pines for Dazai’s attention, but Chuuya understands that pinning at least. He knows how painful it was for Akutagawa when Dazai left suddenly, and seeing how Dazai’s effectively replaced them all with ADA equivalents must hurt like hell to him. I love having Chuuya as a source of comfort for Akutagawa, but I don’t romantically ship them together. This would be more of a familial/mentor relationship and I prefer it that way between them. 4/10.

ChuuyaxYosano

I WANT THESE TWO TO GET PLASTERED IN A BAR TOGETHER! Chuuya and Yosano would be THE BEST drinking buddies and no one can tell me otherwise! I think these two have decent potential as romantic partners–but there’s a huge problem between them–and that would be Mori. Yosano can’t stand the idea of him and Chuuya has dedicated his life to servitude under him. There would be so many arguments and fights over this that it would be a serious point of contention between them. 

I would love to see though… if one day they got on well enough for Yosano to truly see the damage Corruption has done to Chuuya. It’s something she wouldn’t be able to heal from how long its existed in his system. She could of course heal him if he were in a state of Corruption that lasted long enough to put his life in jeopardy, but otherwise Chuuya would be one of the few cases where she simply wouldn’t be able to heal someone and could only watch them waste away with each use like a fatal disease. What sort of affect would that have on her I wonder? 6/10.

ChuuyaxRanpo

Ok this is admittedly a guilty ship for me. I honestly didn’t realize how much I would ship this until I actually started RPing here and got to interact with an amazing Ranpo. I think it’s enjoyable because in many ways Ranpo is like Dazai as far as intellect is concerned. While Chuuya doesn’t have background with Ranpo, the man is able to easily cut through Chuuya’s bullshit and pride in order to get to the heart of what Chuuya is really feeling. And he teases Chuuya about just as badly and as a MUN I’m horribly weak to my muses being teased. I would put these two at about 8/10? 

As much as Ranpo is able to give Chuuya by means of healing and growth, I’m not sure how much Chuuya would be able to give Ranpo in return. He’s certainly not the best intellectual companion, but maybe that’s what Ranpo finds amusing. He can indulge in simpler things and not have to overthink all the time.

ChuuyaxKunikida

I don’t think Chuuya would ever meet any of Kunikida’s ideals so 0/10. No, I’m kidding! I think these two would fit really nicely together as work friends–even though they’re on opposite sides. They have one extreme headache in common and it would be nice for them to just chat out their frustrations over drinks at a bar. Kunikida may just have to step down from his high horse a bit to be able to stoop to casual conversation with the enemy. I’d give them a 2/10. I’m not much for a romantic ship for them, but friendos? YES PLEASE!!!

ChuuyaxTachihara

At first I was like, ah… they’re good bros. Just what Chuuya needs, a best friend that he can confide in. And then Tachihara was revealed as a spy and member of the Hunting Dogs, betraying Port Mafia and I just tiorewihtwfoilahflidu. CHUUYA APPARENTLY ISN’T ALLOWED TO HAVE ANY FRIENDS OR FAMILY JFC. When’s Kouyou handing in her notice at this rate?! However, Tachihara’s leaving of Port Mafia, and his compounded feelings towards them definitely added a nice level of spice for me with this ship, giving it room to have less bromantic feelings and more romantic. 

I enjoy them as an angst ship and I so yearn for that confrontation between them. I enjoy ships that have a lot of work to be done and aren’t smooth sailing–but there’s potential. There has to be some foundation there that holds them together, and in this case it’s that former friendship. So for these too I’d now say that they’re at 6/10.

ChuuyaxAngo

This is quite honestly a ship I struggle to understand as far as how it would work. I see how they could get on with being mutually misunderstood by both their organizations and suffering as a result of their abilities but Chuuya has so much animosity towards Ango for all that he has done and what he represents by working for the Special Abilities Division. Hell, Ango has even referred to Chuuya by his number, making him feel even less human when he already struggles with that concept so much in his life. I truly don’t see these two working together and think they would be far better off with others. 2/10.

ChuuyaxTsujimura

In perfectly good honesty I have not read the spin off novel for the Special Ability Division. However, Chuuya would likely feel very similar to her in the way he does Ango. Chuuya HATES the government with a burning passion for what they put him through. While Tsujimura does seem to have a considerably bigger heart, Chuuya would likely not be able to stand her due to her affiliation not only with the Division, but working directly with Ango as well. Strangely enough though, I do think her concern for Chuuya’s well being would warm his heart quite a bit. It’s rare for anyone to show compassion towards the danger he throws himself into so… on that merit alone it gives her quite an advantage: 6/10

ChuuyaxOdasaku

Again, Chuuya once more doesn’t get on with someone in this listing. It’s an unfortunate pattern. He blames Oda for convincing Dazai to betray the organization and leave, so Oda is in his own way a traitor in Chuuya’s eyes. However, he can also see how Oda’s influence has changed Dazai for the better, and he’s grateful for that. Chuuya’s feelings towards him went from jealous friend, to enemy, to a father figure he wished he could’ve had. Dazai was very lucky to have had someone to teach him in his life for so long. So if anything, it would be more of a paternal/familial ship with Oda and it would certainly be complicated. I’d place this at about… 3/10?

[grelleswife]

Hey hey, I'm curious, what did you think of the murder mystery arc of kuro? It doesn't come up much, and I think mainly cause t had a small cast, a small arc, it was like a mini arc compared to the others, or felt like it. Not to mention, no reapers! So no surprise it happened, it was ok, and people move on.. But seriously, I'm curious about your thoughts on what happened during that time, what Ciel and Sebs did, how the servants acted, ect!

Hi, anon! I do have a few thoughts; I hope they’ll be of interest to you!

Although I enjoyed the murder arc (I love a good detective story), I think it’s one of the weaker Kuro arcs for a couple of reasons. First, there is a certain element of predictability. Especially if, like me, you read this arc many years after it was published, you know full well that Sebastian’s death has to be a sham (If he died for real, the manga probably wouldn’t have gone on for as long as it has), which takes a lot of the emotional clout out of his apparent demise and undercuts the suspense Yana was trying to create. Also, this arc happens to be juxtaposed against the circus arc, which to this day is one of Kuro’s most pathos-laden, impactful arcs, hence a very tough act to follow. In a way, though, the lighter tone of the murder arc did give us a bit of a breather!

I feel O!Ciel’s interactions with Arthur are noteworthy because they give us a glimpse into the childlike aspects of his character, such as his genuine enthusiasm for Arthur’s stories and the almost avuncular way Arthur treats him at times. It was also sweet and rather poignant to see the flashback of O!Ciel sharing the bed with his parents.

As far as Sebastian’s and our Earl’s interactions go, one key aspect of this arc is that they are fully in control of the game they are playing with one another and with the Queen. Sebastian immediately recovers from Charles Grey’s attack, since his would-be killer is but a mere mortal. O!Ciel’s grief and desperation after Bassy’s “murder” are entirely feigned, and butler and master easily manipulate the other individuals in the manor to achieve their desired outcome. When you think about it, the stakes aren’t really that high. For Sebastian, the incident is merely another instance of playing with his food. Now contrast this state of affairs with the Campania arc, where Sebastian is once again violently stabbed--but by a death scythe that nearly kills him. He and O!Ciel aren’t calling the shots on the Campania but quite literally fighting for their lives against a wily, formidable antagonist who’s caught them by surprise. For the first time, Sebastian’s objective (consuming the Earl’s soul) is in serious jeopardy. O!Ciel realizes that his “sword and shield” is not invincible. Suddenly, their game isn’t as fun anymore, the tension ratchets ever-higher, and, from here on out, the mood will become progressively grimmer.

Getting back to the actual arc in question (sorry for rambling!), this section of the manga also illustrates the close bonds among the Phantomhive servants. They are truly heartbroken when Sebastian’s “corspe” is discovered and do their best to comfort and support their beloved young master and each other. It becomes quite apparent how much they value “Mister Sebastian”-- along with the Earl, he’s one of the first people to give them a family and sense of belonging. For me, this makes the fact that Sebastian doesn’t care about them (trash demon) all the more gut-wrenching.

This arc is also notable for reintroducing Snake (precious boi). Although O!Ciel has managed to placate him for now, the audience is left to wonder when the truth of the circus members’ fates will be revealed, and what his reaction will be when it does...

One final observation before I shut up: I think this arc really hammers home the fact that something isn’t quite right about Queen Victoria. Of course, it’s always been odd that she would allow a young child to shoulder the heavy burden of being her Watchdog, but, when you think about it, her role in the Phantomhive manor murders is rather sinister. The whole affair is orchestrated as a test/punishment for the fiery ending of the circus arc...pretty sketchy behavior, if you ask me. Had Sebastian been human, he wouldn’t have survived this “test,” which would have resulted in O!Ciel losing his most trusted protector. This was when I really started having misgivings about the queen, though it’ll probably be a while before my suspicions are justified.

Thanks so much for your interest, and I hope there’s something worthwhile amidst all my drivel!

[wevegottogetaway]

The one where the night turns sour but then it turns sweet

Y/n’s kitchen is a mess. Pots and pans queuing up to be washed. Crumbs from her morning toast lingering on countertops. Veggies peelings from her infamous zucchini/ground beef lasagna she’d made for lunch still hanging out on the cutting board. But no matter how bad the battlefield in her kitchen, y/n herself is an even bigger mess. A proper wreck she would say if she wasn’t so absorbed by the problem at hand. Pacing her small apartment, phone clutched by her ear, she is one nerve away from having a mental breakdown.

She doesn’t have the time to take care of the deplorable state of her kitchen though. Not when her boss is scolding her like some punk kid caught stealing from the till, about a work catastrophe that she didn’t even cause. And that’s without saying that it’s fucking Sunday past 6pm and her best friend Harry is meant to be arriving anytime soon (the thought makes her hiss each time she so much as glimpses at the pile of dishes still dwelling besides the sink). It’s been a good 30 minutes since the screaming had started now, but y/n has yet to get a word in edgeways. Instead she silently implores her boss to stop swamping her with his unrelenting fury for both her sanity’s sake and the fact she’s expecting company. 

"This is unacceptable y/n, your stunt just might have put our most precious client’s account in jeopardy and you aren’t even present to fix this fucking mess." Of course I’m not present you dumbass, it’s Sunday she wants so desperately to yell back. She will most certainly get fired if she levels her tone to her boss’ though, so she takes a long breathe and answers in the most put-together voice she can muster.

"Mr Griffith, I still have Mr Nicholson’s file on my computer. I promise I will do all that’s in my power to rectify this situation." Technically it’s not her concern. She knows she didn’t do anything wrong, but she’s fairly new to the company and fairly young and in today’s society that fairly accounts to having to prove yourself. Maybe saving the day will be the small push she needs for her hard work to get legitimate recognition. 

"If it’s not fixed by tomorrow 10am you’ll regret ever footing step in my company y/n."

"Duly noted Mr Griffiths, enjoy the rest of your week-end," she retorts before hanging up. It is probably way to abrupt as a farewell, but y/n feels like her ears would have started bleeding had she not cut it short. Shoulders hunching in a dejected manner, she merely has the time to reach the kitchen before her doorbell rings. 

"It’s open!" she says barely loud enough.

Then Harry serenely strides in, having already discarded his coat in the closet by the front door. As soon as he takes in her sight though, he knows something’s wrong. It’s not so much that y/n is an open book (the first time they met he thought she was quite the enigma), but Harry likes to think he’s been around long enough by now, to be well versed in decoding y/n’s kinetics. So instantly he recognizes the stiffness in her posture, can discern her usual in-thoughts frown from the migraine one she’s wearing right now, and already forecasts some kind of bad news just by the way she’s fiddling with her fingers. 

"’S wrong, love?" he inquires with concern, and y/n absolutely hates that she’s about to put a damper on his night too. Loathes it even because of how soft he looks, standing a few feet from her, wearing a cozy navy blue jumper. His cheeks are slightly pink-tinted from the sharp weather raging outside, and she can tell he refrained from taking her hands in his when he voiced is worry because he knows they’d feel like icicles on her skin at the moment. Y/n sighs as she finally plunges her tired eyes in his shining emerald ones.

"God, I’m so sorry Harry, you have no idea how much I want to just hang out with you but something came up at work and-"

"At work? But it’s Sunday!" he cries out somewhat indignantly.

"Trust me, I know… But apparently there was a huge screw-up and now the office is in some kind of uproar, my boss is this close to kicking my butt out of the company and now I have to fix it-" Y/n explains frantically. She’d surf on the wave of anger during the phone call with her boss but now that she’s off the adrenaline high, she’s just a massive bundle of nerves ready to implode. 

Lowering her head in her hands defeatedly, she flinches at the sudden contact of Harry’s freezing hands on her arms (just like he’s predicted but he decides the moment really calls for it). "Slow down, angel. Can’t be working yourself up, ’s bad fo’ your ‘ealth. ‘Sides, I’m sure we can work summat out" he adds while rubbing his thumbs over her shirt soothingly. Y/n then tilts her head back up and makes eye-contact once again as she paces her breathing in long inspirations. Once she’s recuperated, she brings her own hands under Harry’s forearms and gives him a morose smile.

"I really need to do this Harry, I don’t have much choice." Seeing how distraught she looks, Harry simply nods and swallows his disappointment. "I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, I have to make a few phone calls and that might be all there needs to be…or it might take the whole night. I don’t know, we can raincheck or if you want to wait around for a bit… It’s up to you." She knows it’s not fair to keep him around if she’s gonna spend the next few hours rubbing elbows with her computer and her phone instead of him. She knows she should let him go for the night and reschedule but she misses him so much. They haven’t seen each other in a while and, well, y/n’s heart always has a mind of its own when it comes to Harry (against her better judgement). So instead she leaves it to his choice.

He doesn’t have to think twice before agreeing though. "‘Course, love. I got nothin’ to do anyway so might as well do nothin’ ‘ere." 

He makes it sound like it’s whatever, but truth is, he’s been looking forward to this for days. The last couple of weeks have been filled with so many work commitments and deadlines to meet, now that he has the next few off he’s just yearning for a casual night of take away, rom coms and cuddles if he’s lucky. And maybe his resilience has also something (a lot) to do with the pang lashing out at his heart at the thought of postponing their reunion. He won’t relay that information to her though.

"How ‘bout you go ‘head an’ do what it is you need to do, and I, can go buy some sweet an’ sour chow mein from that Chinese place ya always raving about?" he offers softly.

"It’s okay Harry you don’t have to do that, you’re supposed to be enjoying your time off, not run other people’s errands."

"No, none o’ that, angel. It’s no bother, I promise" he reassures her. "That way we’ll have more time for a movie or summat." 

Typically, y/n wouldn’t give up that easily. She can be quite a stubborn feisty little thing when pushed too far. However, tonight she’ll have to pick her battles if she wants to have all her wits to clean her colleague’s goddamn mess. So she lets out a small ‘fine’ and drops her arms back at her sides. Harry gives her one last smile for moral support before he’s turning back towards the front door. As she hears him shuffling his coat and boots back on, she bites back a small smile of her own. She’s really lucky to have him, she thinks, not for the first time. All the more reasons to keep her blossoming feelings in a secret box, never to be opened by a certain 6 foot curly-haired British brunette who wears his heart on his sleeve and never fails to make her feel warm. 

The sound of the door shutting is what pulls her out of her trance, before she despondently makes her way to her coffee table where lays her laptop and cellphone. Bracing herself for the upcoming crusade awaiting her, y/n puts her work glasses on and gets down to business with a small glimmer of hope that her night will end as originally planned. 

When Harry comes back — not only holding dinner but also bearing a family-size package of M&M’s (he knows it’s her guilty pleasure and he thinks she really deserves it tonight) — the first thing he hears is y/n’s stern but diplomatic voice. He never really gets to witness this side of her, all professional and ‘takes no shit from nobody’ attitude, so he’s a little curious when he finally makes his way to her living room. And well, God helps him if he doesn’t find sweet y/n pacing her place head high, shoulders back and fiery eyes, to be really hot. Quite the contrast to her usually warm and relaxing aura, but still, the pang in his chest resumes with greater intensity. 

"Mr Nicholson, your reluctance to further collaborate with Lyon Investment Factor is absolutely understandable considering we’ve played a part in the precarious situation that just transpired. I fully acknowledge the newfound mistrust you might feel towards our company, but if I may point out to you - and with all the respect that I owe you - despite its misstep, Lyon Investment has demonstrate its ability to operate quickly in the face of a critical emergency."… "Mr Nicholson,  I was hoping the past 24 hours would have comforted you with the knowledge that you can rely on our company to deflect any other foreseeable complication that may occur."…"Thank you Mr Nicholson. This goes without saying that I offer you my most sincere apologies on the behalf of Lyon Investment."

Harry thinks she’s genius. Using the very own mistake of the company to show its impeccable response to crisis and problem-solving abilities…that is downright brilliant. A really coup de maître of sure. Whilst it’s true they fucked up, they (or more like y/n) also managed to efficiently resorb the problem at hand. Mr Nicholson’s company is not in any harm’s way anymore, all thanks to her fighting long and hard to right the wrong that had been done. Harry’s heart is bursting with pride and awe as y/n smoothly wraps the phone call up, comforting Mr. Nicholson times and times again to rest assured that Lyon Investment wouldn’t let anything bad happen to his company.

It’s only once she half-throws away her phone on the couch that y/n takes in Harry’s return. She’s usually really good at sensing his presence but the last 30 minutes drained her to the bone. He looks even softer if it’s even possible. Head tilted on the side as if he’d been observing her this all time, he seems somewhat thoughtful. And for a few one too many seconds they just gaze at each other and bask in the silence. Then Harry finally breaks the intensity with a soft chuckle and a smile.

"Jesus, angel, ya look like ya need a hug," he says while putting the bags of food on the kitchen counter.

"Ugh. I’ll be honest, not my best night so far."

"Good thing I’m ‘ere to make it all better then. I even gotcha M&M’s to end things on a sweet note. Know ya can resist ‘em," he proudly announces and y/n might as well turn into to a puddle as his feet with how sweet he is. Sweeter than the stupid candy without a doubt.

"God, Harry you’re the best. I’m so glad you decided to stay" she admits while getting close to him. She could really use a hug, he knows her so well. And a hug it is, as she doesn’t even need to say anything before he engulfs her between two strong arms and a soft chest. Reveling in the feeling of his hands running down her back supportingly, she just breathes him in the most inconspicuous way she can. She doesn’t know it, but he does just the same.

"You work so ‘ard, angel. I’m so proud o’ you." The sentiment makes her smile in his neck, and when she leans back out of his embrace and takes a look at him, she thinks her night is not totally ruined. 

"Thank you Harry, it means a lot" more than you know, she could add. 

Finally ready to let the festivities begin, they are then making their way to the kitchen. Harry helps pulling out the plates and cutlery since by now he’s just as familiar with her kitchen as she is (despite it being a few months since the last time they did something at hers). 

"So, what ‘appened at the office that they had you kickin’ asses on a Sunday evenin’?" Harry asks while serving them both some of the sweet and sour he’s bought. 

"Barely kicked anyone’s ass" she grumbles. "If anything, I’d be lucky not to get mine kicked tomorrow at work."

"Didn’t sound like it. You were so…" Harry starts saying as he tries to find the right words, "…confident and intransigent when I ‘eard ya on the phone." She smiles once again at the dripping fondness in his voice. 

Plates in hands, they revert back to the living room and make themselves comfortable on the sofa, cautiously sitting not too close but not too far either from each other.

"Nah, you just caught me when I was tired, frustrated and frankly? angry. I’m just glad I didn’t go ballistic on him…then we would have truly lost Mr Nicholson and this time it would have been entirely my fault," she says before shoving a piece of sweet and sour pork in her mouth.

"Wait, you mean you ‘ad nothin’ to do with what ‘appened?"

Y/n lets out a long sigh at Harry’s confusion. First, because yes, technically she could have stepped out of the problem — though her boss could probably care less about her innocence in the matter — and just enjoy her Sunday evening as arranged. Second, because somehow she knows Harry will disapprove. He already thinks she’s working to hard and despises her office for not acknowledging how absolutely brilliant she is (granted, he’s probably a bit more than biased on the subject). 

Now that he asked though, she can’t get out of it. "Technically speaking? No. I was the one investigating Mr Nicholson’s new investors and when I noticed something odd with one of them, I wrote a note on the file so that Shirley would take matters into her own hands. When I came by her office to pass on the file though, she was distant and barely listened or looked at me. I mean you know how she’s always been with me…" Harry slowly nods as he recalls many a night  where y/n would rant to him about Furie Shirley whose only purpose is apparently to turn her time at the office into her own personal purgatory. "I still told her about the note, but apparently she failed to do something about it because next thing we know, Mr Nicholson’s account is missing a few pennies." 

"Jesus y/n, why dyou go through all that stress ‘f you weren’t even responsible for it?" Harry does’t understand. Is it because her kindness is so, that she couldn’t say no to those who need her help? He’s seen that happen quite a few times in his time with y/n. Once they’d been walking to the cinema when some old lady asked y/n if she could watch her dog while she was grocery shopping. They’d waited for over 30 minutes outside the store and barely made it in time for the movie… It was just one of those things that made her y/n and that always left Harry endeared. 

"I just…Harry you don’t understand how hard it is to make a place of my own in that office. I’m young and new, and people are still not completely trusting my competences…so yeah, sometimes I have to go the extra mile to show them; make them see that I deserve to be there, because I love my job and I worked hard to get in that company in the first place. But I’ll be damned if I don’t put my whole in what I do, it’s the only way I’ll get recognition for it. I just owe it to myself." 

At this point they’re both facing each other on the couch, food abandoned on the coffee table. There’s a pregnant pause but none of them are willing to put an end to it. Y/n, because she’s trying to decipher what’s going on in Harry’s head, her eyes going back and forth between the two of his. Harry, because, well, the butterflies in his chest are so strong he can’t act like a functional human being right now. She’s just so beautiful: chapped lips, disheveled hair, eyes circled with exhaustion and all. She’s the cutest mess he’s ever seen and he can feel his heart winning over his reason. Can’t resist the magnetic pull he’s always experienced when near her. Can’t stand by his initial inhibition anymore.

Ever so slowly as to not set her off, he leans in, lips slightly opened because breathing through his nose is too complicated of a task at the moment. He’s got the smallest frown like a remote part of him realizes what he’s about to do and braces itself for the aftermath. He comes to a halt millimeters from her lips as a silence way to give her one last out, but when her own lips part to let a shaky breathe out, he just closes the infinitesimal distant remaining between the two of them.

Then it’s just lips tenderly waltzing to an unchained melody of unraveling secrets and muted feelings set free. The kiss is a silent conversation between two relieved souls who can finally be unconditionally honest with each other. Harry can’t believe it’s really happening as he cups her jaw in his hand, thumb delicately brushing over her cheek. As soon as their lips made contact he’d closed his eyes to fully soak up the moment. He just can’t get enough. He loves the softness of her skin under his fingers, the feel of her irregular breathing against his face and the way her hands have moved to rest around his neck and clutch at his sweater. He’s never felt more connected to her in that moment. 

Alas, every good thing has to come to an end, and all living beings need to breathe. Reluctantly so, they both lean back an inch playing with the idea of going for a repeat, before coming to the realization of what that kiss means. The shift that will undeniably result from it and the necessity for them to talk it out. Harry decides he should speak first since he was the one to initiate it all. 

"Umm, I’m sorry…but not really" he finally says huskily with swollen lips and flushed cheeks (and this time the weather has nothing to do with it).

That’s enough to break the tension as they both start laughing softly, foreheads touching. After their laughters die down Harry gives a small push to her head, to which y/n responds with one of her own. Her mind feels fuzzy, her self-control slipping away bit by bit. She can’t tone down the smile that’s tickling her eyes, can’t prevent the goosebumps from erupting all over her body and can’t get her fingers to stop fidgeting. She’s taking comfort in the fact that Harry’s not doing much better body language wise.  

"You kissed me" she states after clearing her throat. 

"I did." 

"Sooo, what was that all about?" she inquires quietly but still beaming. He chuckles at that, desperately trying to find a way to buy himself time in order to formulate a proper answer; one that conveys how much he likes her without scaring her off.

"Well, we get on really good, don’ we? From the beginnin’. An' it’s like, you became really important to me so fast, an’ I value our friendship. So much, angel. An’ because o’ that, I could never get myself to make a move because the worst case scenarios always ou’weighed the best one. I just couldn’t, an’ still can’t afford to lose ya."

Y/n is amazed. First because his words are music to her ears. It’s what she’s been craving to hear from him for months. Second, because she’s never seen Harry quite so…shy. After confessing his feelings, he looks down at his lap as if still not a 100% convinced that she reciprocates the sentiment. So y/n gingerly takes his hands in her, threading her fingers between his.

"Harry…I don’t think I could ever cut ties with you. Feelings or not." Realizing how that may sound, she adds frantically. "Not that I don’t have feelings for you, because I do." She pauses. "I really do."

There was a rawness in her voice that wasn’t there seconds before. Now it’s her turn to feel the weight of months of secrets taken off her shoulders. And when she feels him squeezing her hands and takes in the radiant smile on Harry’s features, she thinks this is the right this to do. 

It seems Harry’s confidence has returned as well, if the small smirk making it’s way on his face is anything to go by.  Then he’s wrinkling his nose and slowly shaking his head from side to side. "Damn, we’re just bloody idiots, aren’t we." 

"Apparently so, yeah" y/n answers before they start giggling in unison. 

"So, where do we go from there?" she asks once they settle back in a more serious mood.

"An’ where ’s it that we are, darling?" Well, not serious per se for Harry who’s apparently still hanging on the banter.

"Ugh, Harry you’re a pain."

"Ohhh, so 3 minutes ago you were kissin’ the hell out o’ me an’ now I’m a pain? Can’t find the logic in tha’, love."

"What?! I wasn’t kissing the hell out of you! And may I remind you, you started kissing me, not the other way around."

"’S right, love. I kissed you heaven, ‘cause ya were just too damn beautiful." She can’t help the blush coloring her cheeks, as she listens to his charming words. "The way I see it, I like you, an’ ’t seems like you like me back…so let’s just be together an’ see where it goes. No pressure, no expectations. Just what feels right, ‘kay? An’ no more hiding what we feel from the other. An’ I got unlimited access to your lips"

"Yeah okay, I think I could live with that." Y/n answers before kissing him again.

This time there is more playfulness involved; they know this will be far from the last. Hands are also more curious and less hesitant as they tug at hair and jaws, and just overall roam the new surface they were given to explore. It gets to the point where their smiles are getting in the way, but they have a hard time parting anyway. They are just basking in the kind of moment where wishful thinking becomes tangible reality and the longing for mutual affection is finally sated. 

When they finally lean away with unsteady breaths, they are still grinning like fools. Then their eyes align and they are struck by the two fold nature of the moment. Everything has changed whilst everything is the same. They hold the same adoration for each other, share the same kind of banter, use the same techniques for moral support (this isn’t the first sweet and sour emergency procedure Harry has had to perform). And yet, they now flaunt smiles wide enough to annoy bystanders, transparent eyes that no longer hold mystery and unrestrained movements led by the simple desire to be closer to the other.

"Wanna watch a movie then?" Harry asks absentmindedly as he's caressing her cheek.

"Think I wanna go for something more stimulating actually." That draws back his full attention faster than she can say ‘hands off mister'. She wants to wipe the smugness off his face (tough she secretly loves it), but decides she can beat him at his own game as she leans forward until her lips are brushing the tip of his ear. "I’d rather kick your ass at Scrabble again if you don’t mind."

And really Harry wasn’t expecting that and he has to close his eyes and pinch at his nose to rein himself back in. "That was one time, love. You beat me one time. By 5 points. An’ I was down wit’ the flu. Besides, wit’ the stunt you just pulled I wonder whose ass needs reshaping…" He counters while taking a bite of his own at her earlobe. 

"Behave, Styles." 

"Yes ma’am" he obeys but not without leaving a tender kiss to her neck. "So, you get the game, I get us tea?"

"Atta boy" y/n can’t help but teasing before dismounting the couch and heading for her living room closet.

30 minutes later, they are both sitting, facing each other on the floor, sides resting on the front of the couch. The Scrabble board is wedged between their legs, half completed and it’s y/n’s turn to place her letters. She’s got a giant smirk on her face that Harry has yet to notice in his imperturbable concentration. He’s determined to prove her wrong, she knows. Y/n has always found his competitive nature to be quite adorable. Especially when things are not looking in his favor and he gets that deep frown on his face and maybe even pouts a little if he’s trying to impress a certain someone in that moment. 

That’s why once he finally looks up at her, his face changes color radically. There is no doubt she’s onto something, and by the look of it, her next move might be signing his defeat.

"Nuh uh, you don’t ‘ave a Bingo." It’d be the only reason for such a reaction on her part. He just knows her so well.

"Oh what was that again Mister Scrabble King? I’m sorry, I got distracted because, I, have a Bingo, all thanks to that S you just put down. Amazing, no?" All the while, she starts putting her letters down sporting a shit-eating grin. Harry doesn’t know what to say as his eyes fall on the songbird she’s just spelt, so he pouts just like she knew he would. 

"’S fine, sweetheart, just givin’ you a head start. Don’t want the defeat to hurt too bad." He’s such a sore loser, but that’s no flash news for y/n. She’s quite use to it actually, and has learnt by now to just roll her eyes.

"Sure thing, Styles, sure thing. Just play if you can’t except defeat."

They keep playing, sipping tea every now and then, y/n watching him like hawk over the rim of her mug. Because she knows he’s planning mischief. He’s playing far too innocent and being far too okay with the fact he’s only got two of her three-digit score. 

It happens merely ten minutes later. Y/n is pondering over her choices, she’s got letters do spell both rate and tear but she can’t decide what’s best. (She can’t figure out that double and triple letter score nonsense like Harry does. He just always placing 2 letters in odd places that give him 34 points in one go, while she wastes her gray matter away trying to come up with seven-letter words just to end up with 12 points. It’s infuriating, really.)

The place has been eerily quiet for the past few minutes and with that thought she pauses her internal debate. It’s been quiet for too long. When she looks up at Harry, he’s sporting the same smirk she was a few moments ago. 

"What?" she asks incredulously. "What!?"

"Got a bingo, darling." And really, she hates it when he calls her that because he always uses it in a patronizing tone (always meant for teasing, it goes without saying). 

For a moment, y/n is overcome by the same feeling of discontent she’s had to deal with at the beginning of the evening. She really thought she was about to beat him this time. Now if he wins, she’ll be twice as bummed because she would have been so close and Harry will never let her live this down. Instead he’ll be constantly raving about how no-one can beat him at Scrabble even the strongest of contenders (and y/n sure is one of them, even he will admit)

But then Harry starts laying down the letters on the board and she has to blink twice to make sure she’s reading right. Damn, this is a first. She never thought he would revert to this.  

"Um, Harry?" He hums in acknowledgement. "That’s not a word."

"Sure is, pet. I use it all the time." He answers so nonchalantly, like everything is normal and he’s just so right about this. 

"Alright. Use it in a sentence then." He looks up at her with the same smirk.

"Throwin’ me under the bus, love? ’S not very nice. I didn’t question you when you nailed ya bingo." She’s seeing right through his stall-the-conversation game though.

"That’s because I had an actual word, you ass!" She exclaims outrageously. However, her smile hasn’t vanished from her face, because this means she’s still winning. He’s just being a sneaky little shit about it, is all. "Come on Styles, I wanna hear you use that stupid word of yours!"

"Damn, you’re a lioness tonight. Didn’ know I outta bring me some bodyguard to save me from your claws." Once he sees the deadpanned look she’s giving him, he puts on a fake thinking face, right hand around his chin and left arm crossed over the other. "Fine, let’s see… Hum…I…"

"Harry" y/n says in a stern voice. She can’t believe he’s still trying to get out of this.

"This situation is grootling? I am grootled?" He can’t even take himself half-seriously, knowing he was busted the moment she first read it. As they share a look, they’re like two pressure-cookers on the edge of explosion: eyes creased and cheeks puffed out from trying to rein in the fit of laughter that is begging to be relieved. 

There’s no avoiding it though, boisterous cackles filling up the room, it feels like a massive relief for y/n. Relief from the work pressure she could still feel in her joints. Relief because she wouldn’t change the night for the world. Relief for the fact that Harry’s still her best-friend and can still make her laugh harder than anyone ever. Relief at the thought that she’s found her person. One that supports her in every thing she does no matter what; that is there for casual (at least in her book) Scrabble games but who doesn’t shy away when she’s at a vulnerable point and needs someone to hold the pieces back together. 

So without a care, she crosses the game board, completely disrupting the pieces, and kisses him. Knees against his thigh and fingers messily tangled in his hair, she presses her soft lips to his with vibrant intention and Harry, albeit surprised, is embracing her blazing affection to the fullest. Circling her waist with one arm to bring her down and forward on his lap and carefully holding her neck with his other hand, he surrenders himself to the warmth and pleasure running thought his bloodstream. All too willingly succumbs to the flames licking at his heart and tingling the tips of his fingers. And lets his instinct guide him through the kiss, as he pours his feeling into it unabashedly. 

After making their lungs starve for oxygen once again, they break the kiss in one last giggle. 

"So, if only for future anecdote purposes, what does grootle mean?" Y/n asks before capturing her lower lip between her teeth. The game is screwed now, pieces all over the place except on the board; but she doesn't regret screwing it up herself even when she was that close to finally shut his bragging cake-hole. She’d rather do it with her lips anyway.

"Fuck, gimme a mo’ angel. Just kissed me breathless, an’ this time ’s true." A blush immediate creeps up her cheeks at his words, so she dives and hides her face on the crook of his neck. The action has him chuckling as he runs his hand up and down her back and thinks of his next answer.

"Ya see, grootle is a fascinating word. Can be an adjective, like in ‘I’m so fucking grootle to have you, I can’t believe you’re lettin’ me be yours’. But it can also be a verb as in ‘you’re amazing an’ I wanna grootle the shit out of you’ if ya know what I mean," he adds with a smirk and raises his eyebrows twice flirtingly. 

"God, you’re such a dork, Harry." 

"Just shut up and come kiss your dork." He simply answers while pulling her to his lips and y/n thinks she’s had worst nights.

➪ Masterlist

[hidayasu]

Ravamped Chapter 3

(Note: this is part of my Revamped series where Adrien actually revealed himself, So I’d recommend going back and reading the previous chapters.)

We all grew up knowing there were monsters under the bed. They just weren’t the ones we assumed. F/M Ladybug, Adrien

Humor

Under The Bed

It started one day when their fight almost ran over and they ran too close to time. Cat Noir realized his identity- and schedule- was in jeopardy.

“Aaaah, I’ll never make it in time!” He looked at the hanging clock tower. “And it’s almost dinner! They’ll notice me gone for sure!” He spun around quickly looking for an escape route, spotted Ladybug, then leaned in to whisper quickly behind his hand. “Ladybug, think you can take me home? It’s an emergency!”

She blinked in surprise. Her earrings sounded off once, but she knew that she still had four minutes. It would be close, but she could definitely do it. So she nodded. “Meet me in the alley,” She whispered, throwing up her Lucky Charm for a handy distraction. “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

The Lucky Love magic erupted from the miraculous with gusto, sweeping through the damaged streets of Paris in almost the blink of an eye. And as everyone else was busy marveling and celebrating, Cat Noir ducked into an alleyway just in time to detransform.

“Hooo man, you were really cutting it close, that time!” Plagg complained. “And you don’t even have any Camembert on you to soothe my nerves!”

“You sure it’s your nerves and not your appetite?” Adrien chided as Ladybug landed just beside him. “Thanks for this,” he offered as he approached her.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved him off. She hooked her yo-yo, and opened up her arm to let him grab hold of her. “Let’s just hurry get you home.”

Plagg dove back into his inner pocket, and Adrien hooked one arm around her shoulders, and she pulled him close, instantly making him flush. Even when he expected it he never, well, expected it. He glanced away to hide his blush, in turn completely missing her matching blush as she took off. Of course, swinging around precariously from a few stories high was different when you were a powerless civilian, so Adrien held on with both arms for dear life, at one point yelping and hanging on at a particularly massive leap.

“It’s alright,” she assured, right in his ear. “I’ve got you.”

He blushed, heart skipping a beat. Thankfully his face was already ducked into the crook of her shoulder, so she couldn’t see the tiny little smile on his face.. “I know you do, Ladybug. I trust you.”

She knew that already, of course. But hearing it again, with him holding so tightly onto her, she couldn’t help but smile shyly as well.

She brought him home, swinging into his open window and releasing her hold.

“Thanks, Ladybug,” He smiled. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if they’d come up and I was-”

There was a knock at the door. “Adrien.”

Both teens looked at the door in horror, and Adrien leaped in front of Ladybug, standing straight and tall to block her, just in time for the door to open.

“Dinner is starting in three minutes. Your father will not be joining you tonight. He sends his apologies and says that next Tuesday will be more convenient for him.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, Tuesday’s great,” He agreed in a slightly higher, nervous voice. “I’ll see him then!”

“Wonderful.” She slid something around on her notepad. “I’ll let him know you’re available. Will you prefer fish, or a steak that night?”

Oh honestly, of all the times she had to ask for his preference! “Steak,” he said quickly. “I’ll be right down!”

She nodded and slipped out. Both Adrien and Ladybug relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief, until the door opened again.

“Also, I forgot to mention your 4 o’clock shoot has been moved tomorrow to 5. Mister D’Argencourt has been notified you will miss fencing tomorrow, and will likely need extra lessons in the oncoming weeks.”

“O-okay, got it!” He said stiffly- then stiffened even more when Ladybug’s earrings sounded behind him.

Natalie raised a brow. “What was that?”

“O-oh, that? That was, uh, myyyy phone alarm going off! To let me know to wash my hands for dinner!” He forced a grin, praying with all his might.

Her brows raised a little in apparent surprise, but relented. “Very good, see you downstairs.”

She closed the door again, but this time both teens waited a few seconds before finally relaxing. Ladybug let out the breath she’d been holding, one hand to her chest.

“Sorry about that,” Adrien sighed. “Guess you have to get-” He gaped and pointed. “Your earrings! You only have a minute left! Are you gonna make it in time?”

She grimaced, one hand by her ear as she looked around for a hiding spot. There was no way she could make it across town in time! “I’ll have to recharge,” She decided, looking ready to dive under his bed.

Adrien panicked. “Aaaaaaaaaaaah, not there! In here!” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to his bathroom, practically throwing her in and slamming the door shut. He slid against it with a sigh of relief.

Confused, but also relieved at being hidden, she let herself detransform. “Thank you, Adrien.”

“No problem,” He smiled. “I guess you can consider it payment for bringing me home. Well, I better go have dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

They blew a kiss through the door, unbeknown to each other, and Marinette fished out the spare cookie from her purse and handed it to Tikki.

“That was really nice of you, Marinette,” The kwami complimented as she took a bite.

“Please, Tikki, we’re partners, we have to help each other out.” She tapped her cheek. “Aaaaand of course the chance to be in Adrien’s room again is too good to pass up.”

Tikki’s stare turned less than approving.

“I’m kidding,” she waved her off. “It’s not like I’m gonna go snooping around or anything,”

True to word, when she came out the bathroom, with mask and suit back on, she didn’t go rifling through anything she wasn’t supposed to. Save for one long, appreciative turn around the space to enjoy the fact that yes, she was in Adrien’s room, without being in the middle of an akuma fight for once, she was fully prepared to take her leave and get home.

She paused momentarily as she glanced at his bed with a raised brow. It was sort of strange how panicked he’d seemed when she’d almost dove under there. He’d never been so forceful with her before. It was like he’d been terrified of her seeing whatever was under there. But what could he possibly be embarrassed about? She couldn’t imagine Adrien being the type of boy to have, shall she say, unsavory things to hide.

… Cat Noir on the other hand, was.

She squinted at the bed, then at the door as she fought the war within her. Which one was it? Sweet, kind, perfect Adrien? Or…

And then she gasped. Wait… if it was Adrien, did that mean, under his bed were things that Adrien… liked?

Her cheeks went pink, and her heart started to pound. If she was right, then hidden under that bed were his deepest, most secret fantasies. Fantasies that he… very well imagined with her...

Her face turned beat red, and she slid to the floor, burying said red face in her hands. All those flirty winks, and suggestive smiles, and all those attempts to kiss and get close to her… How many fantasies had he had of her? Was he as sweet and romantic as the night when he'd made that dinner for her? With candles, and roses, and maybe soft music playing as he held her close and went in for a kiss? Had he imagined... them? In this be-?

“Ladybug!”

She gasped, whirling around to see a surprised Adrien in the doorway. He darted in, quickly shutting the door behind him.

“What’re you still doing here?”

“I didn’t look!” She jumped up. “I mean I thought about it- but I didn’t, because I was just curious why you seemed so determined to keep me out of there!”

“’Out of there’?” He raised a brow, then glanced to his bed. “You mean from under my bed?”

She had her hands over her mouth.

“Is that all?” And then he smiled good naturedly as he shut the door behind him.”It’s just some old comics.”

“What?”

He lifted the covers for her to see for herself. Right at the edge she could see some boxes with comics and graphic novels stuffed into them. “I can’t bring myself to get rid of them.” He confessed. “I have so many I knew you wouldn’t fit under there. I was afraid you’d be stuck outside and end up revealing yourself. And I knew it would probably make you upset, and that was the last thing I wanted.”

She blinked down at the box, because even from here she could see they were all action titles. They really were just old comics. “O-oh…”

He watched her red face as it fell, scrunching his brow in thought. “What’d you think it was?”

“Who me? No, nothing! Nothing at all! I didn’t think it was anything,”As she was stuttering and gesticulating, she didn’t notice him suddenly connect the dots, or smirk as he stood. “I was just confused and curious and wondering what on earth could possibly make you so worried, and-”

“Could it be you thought it was something… Romantic?”

She froze wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights. Bingo.

“And not to mention,” He crossed his arms and grasped his chin in mock-thought as the gears started turning in his head. “You’ve been in here an awful long time thinking about it. You were probably thinking about whether or not to take a little peek.”

“I wasn’t! I mean I was- but I decided not to!”

“I believe you,” he said easily. “But you still hadn’t left before I was finished with dinner. Could it be… You were too busy imagining what could be under there?”

She had her hands tucked fearfully under her chin. And as he leaned in closer to her, like he was scrutinizing her every move, she was hit with a sudden, horrible sense of deja vu.

And because of that, she was able to come up with a quick excuse. “I- of course I was! I wanted to see what the one and only Adrien Agrete was so embarrassed about. I mean, who doesn’t want to know celebrities’ secrets?”

He blinked.

The knowing smirk and eager leer snapped away so fast it almost gave Ladybug whiplash. He was so taken aback, she even had to call his name cautiously.

“Oh!” He leaned back with an embarrassed smile, turning quickly to head to his computer. “Right, of course! Comes with being famous. But I guess you know about that too.”

Ladybug couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but although he was smiling, the snapback just felt off to her. Not like his usual recoveries. “...Adrien?”

“I’ve got a lot of homework to do. You should get going, it’s pretty late,” he excused, not even looking at her as he took his seat.

And here she was really confused. No flirty farewell, no bow out? Not even a decent goodbye like usual? Was it something she said? It had been an innocent enough response, hadn’t it? “Right. See you tomorrow,” she saluted, then swung out into the night.

After she left, he paused his clicking and typing, letting his head hang. Plagg came up to him. “What’s with you all of a sudden?”

“For a second,” he sighed. “I really thought she was finally falling for me too. But she was just curious. She’s probably just a fan.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? If she likes you she likes you, what’s the big deal?”

“Because I don’t want her just to like me, Plagg. I want her to be in love with me.” He sighed. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right about that. I only have one love in my life, and that is my beloved Camembert!” He declared, the simple mention making him crave his pungent snack, and diving for his secret stash.

Adrien ignored him, bringing up his phone and looking at his gallery of Ladybug photographs. All beautiful, fierce, and dynamic. He could, quite literally, only imagine what she was like under the mask. He would have given anything to see the real her.

But the hard truth was that even when he took his mask off, she still had no real interest in getting to know the real him.

Across the way, as Marinette slipped through her trapdoor and into her room, she looked worried to her Kwami. “Tikki! Did I say something wrong?”

“I don’t think so.” Tikki tapped her little chin thoughtfully. “I think maybe he was just hoping for a different answer.”

“What kind of answer?”

“Well, he is in love with Ladybug, so...”

Marinette groaned suddenly, putting her face in her hands. “Of course- he was probably hoping I’d say that I was imagining stuff with him too! Rrrrrgh, no, no! I have to win him over as Marinette!”

Tikki just sighed. At this rate, she wasn’t sure she’d win him over at all.

But as luck would have it, things had a way of taking a different turn than expected.

[klaroline-4ever]

The Pact: Chapter 17

Klaus heard Elena's phone call with Alaric Saltzman and how she was now going to train with Elijah's help. Klaus wanted to go fight with Elijah but before he needed to go talk with Elena.

Once Elena's phone call ended, he took her away from the kitchen and put her in her room so they could talk without anyone listening.

"Klaus, What is it?" Elena asked.

"I want to know what the bloody hell are you planning on doing behind my back."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why do you need Elijah to train you? Why do you even need training? You're only function in here is to provide me your blood so I can make more hybrids. I simply haven't killed you yet because it would break my pact with Caroline. But if you try to flee I will quickly break that pact and kill you after killing everyone you care about."

"I'm not just an object you keep around and when you remember to make hybrids suddenly has a reason for exist. I have a life, Klaus. We all have a life. You aren't the center of the universe! I only asked Elijah to help me with my training because I want to be able to defend myself if Marcel or someone tries to take me away from here to get to you. After all, everyone knows how much you care about your little army of hybrids." Elena said.

"If you dare to do something that will put in jeopardy my plans, I will punish you and won't be pretty." Klaus growled stepping closer to her, in order to make her feel intimidated.

"Hey, Elena! I was wondering if you wanted to..." Caroline said as she opened the door, quickly falling into silence when noticed Klaus and Elena very close to each other. "Oh... Sorry. I didn't know... I should have knocked. Sorry to interrupt your... Yeah... I'll go now. You two carry on."

Caroline left Elena's bedroom and went to her bedroom, wanting to be alone and try to understand what was she feeling and why she was feeling that way.

When Caroline saw Elena and Klaus, she at first was surprised and at shock, but then she felt something else... she didn't enjoy to see them so close, she didn't know why but she just didn't like it... And she also felt like a fool because now she was starting to wonder with how many girls Klaus has been acting all nice and gentlemanly with besides her and, apparently, Elena.

"Love, is everything alright?" Klaus whispered as he got in Caroline's bedroom.

"Yeah... I just... I didn't know you and Elena were becoming so close. I thought she could barely stay in the same room as you... But I'm fine." Caroline whispered, acting like she wasn't affected by seeing him and Elena so close.

"Okay. And in case you're wondering... it wasn't what it looked like."

"I wasn't wondering anything." Caroline quickly said, then Klaus locked them inside the bedroom, making her ask. "What are you doing?"

"I need to talk with someone and I can see you're not in the mood to talk but I trust you to talk about this and... you don't even have to say a word. I just need to talk." Klaus said and Caroline nodded so he would continue. "Elena asked Elijah to help her improve her fighting skills and I am wondering if she asked that for being able to run away from me or for getting closer to Elijah and turn him against me."

"And why does the reason of her wanting to improve her fighting skills needs to be about you? She's been training even before we knew about your existence. It was something she used to do with Ric and now she probably wants to continue because it sucks to stay in this house without doing anything." Caroline said.

"But what if the reason is her planning on run away?"

"Klaus, she didn't ran away when you used her for the sacrifice. I'm sure she won't run away now. She lost so many people, she wouldn't do something that would make her lose the few people she has left." Caroline said. "But is that it or is there something more to it?"

"What do you mean, love?"

"Maybe what you are really afraid is that someone will run away and leave you... Maybe you started to care about people that aren't your siblings." Caroline whispered, thinking that maybe he was so close to Elena because he felt attracted to her and to how she wants to keep fighting.

"Maybe..." Klaus whispered, thinking about how Caroline in a short time has been able to make him care about her.

"Then why don't you tell her?" Caroline asked.

"What do you think she would say about that?" Klaus whispered.

"I don't know but you and Elena seemed to have some tension going on. Maybe that's a good thing." Caroline smiled to him, trying to be a good friend.

"What? I wasn't talking about Elena. And you saw tension between me and her because I was intimidating her so she wouldn't think on running away."

"Because you are starting to care about her and don't want her to leave." Caroline said.

"No! Because the only reason she's here it's so I can make more hybrids. I don't care about her. I barely talk to her." Klaus admitted.

"She's a person, Klaus. You can't think she is just an object for you to use when you want to get more hybrids." Caroline said.

"Wait. Did you act like that because you thought I cared about Elena? Were you jealous, love?" Klaus smirked.

"What? Of course not! Why would I be jealous?"

"I don't know. I can't see why a woman like you would feel jealous of a girl like Elena." Klaus whispered, stepping closer to her.

"You don't need to tell me that. I wasn't jealous. If I was I would understand you saying those things but I'm not." Caroline said.

"If you say so..."

"I wasn't!" Caroline argued, suddenly realizing how close they were now.

"Good." Klaus whispered, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her closer to him. "A woman as beautiful and as extraordinary as you, should know how incredible she is and shouldn't feel jealous of anyone..."

"Klaus..." she whispered and he pressed her against the wall.

"How could I look at Elena like that when I have such an amazing woman right here...?" Klaus whispered.

"Stop it... You can't say things like that to me. I'm your hybrid." Caroline whispered.

"You broke the sire bond." Klaus smirked. "Very rebellious and brave of you, may I add."

"That doesn't matter. I can't be your sex buddy nor anything like that. At most what we can be is friends." Caroline said and moved him aside so she could have some air to breath, because she was starting to feel hot by being so close to Klaus.

Next on The Pact

"What the hell?" *** "Are you planning on telling Klaus?" *** "It sounds urgent."

to be continued...

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

Finding Neverland (13/?)

Summary: When Juliet Jones and Gideon Gold fall through a time portal and find themselves in Neverland, finding a way back home is the least of their worries. One wrong step can irreversibly change the course of history, placing both of their existences in jeopardy. As Juliet attempts to ensure her parents are on course to falling in love, Gideon struggles with the realization that he’s about to meet his deceased brother for the very first time. Will they succeed in preserving the timeline, and what happens when these star-crossed lovers realize their respective families’ goals are at odds? Relationships: Gideon Gold x OC Swan-Jones kiddo, Captain Swan, references to Rumbelle and slight Swanfire

Read now on AO3.

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

Chapter 13

Her plan needs an operation name.

Plans with operation names tend to be more successful -- at least, that’s what the storybooks have told her. Operation: Cobra. Operation: Mongoose. Operation: Light Swan. Operation: Whatever Random Animal Comes to Mind. Operation names had always been Henry’s forte, but since Juliet had long ago made it her own form of rebellion to be the opposite of Henry in a number of ways, she finds herself lacking in the whole “naming operations” department.

Most pressing, however, is that Juliet’s plan needs to actually exist outside of the vague conceptualization of “let’s hook -- pun only kinda intended -- my parents up.” That’s the end goal, right alongside “don’t die” and “get back to the correct point in time.” Though, Juliet reasons, if she fails at part one -- the aforementioned hooking up of her parents -- then she’ll just fade from existence, technically not dying.

After all, she can’t really die if she never existed in the first place.

How comforting.

All of this weighs heavily on her mind, but instead she focuses on naming the whole damn sort-of plan because that feels the least daunting. She needs a win right now, and naming her operation will be it. Only what will it be? She doesn’t know. Henry is the poetic one in the family, stronger with metaphors and fun naming conventions. Juliet’s creativity comes in the form of art and photos. She’s visual, and unfortunately, operation names are not that. 

“Operation: Anything having to do with a Swan” feels a little too on the nose.

“Operation: Kittens” sounds a bit too cute for a  life or non-existence scenario, no matter how much she likes kittens.

She’s still mulling over a name when she notices her father approaching her, coconut in hand. Operation: Coconut, it is. The operation name might not be an animal, but she doesn’t totally have to follow in Henry’s footsteps, pleasing her inner rebellious teen. And despite hating coconut water -- a fact this version of her father apparently doesn’t know -- seeing him with something in hand clearly for her makes her smile, and that’s enough.

“Hi there.”

“Morning.” He holds out the coconut, which she takes gratefully. She can power through pretending to drink coconut water if it means spending more time with him. She misses him -- the version of him she knows and loves -- terribly. “I know that Emma mentioned you weren’t fond of coconuts, but you need sustenance for what’s coming.”

She stares up at him, blinking in confusion, until she realizes that he’s referencing their plan to steal Pan’s shadow. Everything from the previous night is somewhat fuzzy. Try as she might to stay awake, Juliet had found herself dozing when the others had begun discussing the next steps toward successfully saving Henry. She thinks the plan they concocted involved something to do with using her and Emma’s magic, and she resolves to better inquire about the plan some more. At the moment, however, she’s more interesting in the first half of her father’s statement. Emma mentioned that Juliet didn’t like coconuts. That means that they had talked about her, a fact that ignites a small bit of hope. “You guys talk about me?”

“When it’s relevant, yes.”

“What makes it relevant?”

“When you get kidnapped by Pan.”

“Oh, that.” It makes sense. Dimly, she wonders what it was like when she disappeared. She knows that Gideon hadn’t reacted well -- that much she could tell from the way he had refused to let go of hand as they trekked back to camp. But the others? She isn’t sure. Up until now, her father’s past self had acted indifferent since he had found her and Neal outside of Echo Cave. Did he care when she had gone missing? Juliet isn’t sure she wants to know the answer.

“Aye, that.” He glances over the part of camp where Gideon is speaking in a low voice to Neal. She wonders what they’re saying. Her father turns back to her, and scratches behind his ear. It’s an action she’s seen plenty over the course of her life, one that indicates that he’s particularly nervous about whatever he plans to say next. “Listen, love, Pan is a monster. He enjoys both sowing discord and hurting people.”

“I kind of figured that part out when he had his crew kidnap me. And when he attempted to proposition my boyfriend into killing everyone -- which he wasn’t going to do, by the way.” Juliet makes a point of stressing that Gideon wasn’t going to hurt them. Recalling his hesitance outside of Echo Cave, she isn’t positive that her father truly believes her, but it’s worth a shot. She knows that Hook doesn’t actually have a reason to trust Gideon at this juncture, but she still finds her father’s attitude unfair and feels the desire to defend the man she loves. “Pan probably knew you were lurking in the bushes, anyway. He wanted you to think that...that Romeo was was the bad guy, making you not trust him. Sort of like how everyone here doesn’t trust you, even though you’re one of the good guys.

“I’m no hero,” he says with a false sort of laugh. He rights himself quickly enough, and once again runs his fingers through his hair. “At any rate, his stunt at Echo Cave was one such example of that.”

“Neal and I got ourselves out of it.” By revealing way too much information, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Aye, but not without a few bruises, it seems.” He casts another significant glance over his shoulder toward Gideon. For a moment, Juliet struggles to recall just what he’s referencing. Then she remembers Neal’s cover.

As grateful as she is for Neal’s quick thinking, she’s not fond with his particular choice of lie. It had been clever and believable, especially since she’s pretending to be someone that ran away from her family for a man, but she doesn’t like that Gideon is now forced to feign anger and hurt in regards to their relationship.

Her father looks like he’s about to say something else, but he’s cut off by Neal announcing, “Hey, Romeo and I are going to get some water. When we get back, we can leave to get the shadow.”

Juliet doesn’t pay attention to Regina’s argument in response, but instead focuses on Gideon and his resolute expression. He takes a deep breath before following behind Neal and disappearing into the jungle. She’s curious about how the conversation will play out, halfway worried about the effect that it might have on Gideon, but mostly glad he gets the chance to spend time with Neal.

“He loves you.”

Hook’s voice pulls her attention. She wonders now what he would say to her if she actually did come to him with her non-existent worries about whether she and Gideon were moving too fast. Romantic relationship advice had always been more of her mother’s forte. It wasn’t that her father was bad at it, but Juliet had always felt more comfortable turning to her mother -- probably the gender thing. Regardless of who she went to first for advice, her father had always provided a shoulder to cry on when needed. Of course, now that she actually needs his shoulder to cry on, he’s not the same man. 

“Did you really come over here to discuss my love life?”

“No, I didn’t. I came over to ensure your safety.” He continues to stand over her, a large, looming figure covered in black. “However, I did spend an extended period around him. He was driven mad with worry after he realized you disappeared.”

“He’s that kind of guy.” She sits the coconut down and pokes at the ground. She doesn’t want dwell on the effects that her kidnapping had on her boyfriend. She might have been the primary victim in the situation, but her loved one had also been unfairly hurt in the process. As angry as she already had been with Pan, she feels it double in her chest. She’s come to realize exactly why her father had always referred to Peter Pan as a demon.

“Aye, he is.” Her father fixes her with an intense stare. “He seems like the sort of man who would understand if you had reservations regarding your relationship.”

Had this conversation taken place thirty years in his future, Juliet might find his concern to be sweet. Instead, she feels a bubble of guilt forming in her gut at the slight worry in his eyes. She loathes the protracted lies she and Gideon have needed to weave to maintain their covers. She’s uncomfortable lying to her parents in this manner. Though she’s told her fair share of lies to them in the past -- what kid hasn’t lied to their parents every now and then? -- her actions now feel more insidious...and there’s nothing she can do about it except lie some more.

She looks away from her father, the loss of eye contact making her deceptions easier.  “We’ll figure it out. We always have.” She picks up the coconut. “Thanks for this, and checking on me, and discussing my love life even if that wasn’t your full intention.”

“Right.” Juliet thinks he might turn to leave, but he continues to stare at her carefully. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“I should have asked Swan to do this,” he murmured, casting his eyes skyward. He sighs deeply. “Love, did Pan or any of his crew touch you in any way…?”

“Touch me…?” It takes a moment for her to process. “Oh my God.”

Suddenly, she’s fifteen again, drunk off wine coolers and rum stolen from her parents’ liquor cabinet. Juliet remembers the night -- the “unofficial” cast party celebrating the closing of  the school’s production of Legally Blonde: The Musical. (She had been Elle, thank you very much.) Juliet had been reckless then, believing herself unbreakable and immortal in only the way teenagers can. Instead of crashing for the night in Susan Sparrow’s basement, she’d decided to walk home -- she only lived a mile away -- and sneak in through her bedroom window.

“My dad’s the best pirate, so that means I’ve inherited the best sneaking skills. It’s a fact!”

How she would sneak through her second-story bedroom window that night, Juliet didn’t have the opportunity to find out. Her father, by chance thanks to a night patrol, had found her emptying the contents of her stomach into Grumpy’s azaleas.  

Juliet remembers how he had ushered her into the back of the patrol car and driven her home.  She remembers his tight, but loving embrace when he carried back into their house, and tucked her into bed. And, she remembers the lecture she’d received the next day, just the two of them on the back porch swing.

“I loathe that we live in a world that forces me to tell you these things, and I recognize what I’m saying places a burden on you that shouldn’t be yours, but sweetheart, you have to stay safe. I’m not saying don’t imbibe ever. I’d be a hypocrite if I tried. But the world -- and yes, even Storybrooke -- is not a kind place, and it is full of people who enjoy preying on the vulnerable, and inebriation makes us more vulnerable.”

“Dad--”

“When I was just a pirate, I saw terrible men do awful things, and overheard the most sordid of tales. While laying with a consenting woman was always policy on my ship, it was not like that for everyone. And last night, when I found you sick and alone, I was reminded of those men.”

“But nothing happened!”

“And I want nothing to ever happen. The prospect of it, even thinking that -- Juliet, promise me that if you are ever in a situation like that again, you will call someone. Your mother or I, Henry, your grandparents, or even Neal. It doesn’t even have to be family. It can be a trusted and sober friend. Don’t get behind the wheel yourself, or try to wonder home disoriented. We will find you.”

He’d been so concerned then. As much as it embarrasses her now, Juliet had written off his concern as parental paranoia. He’d always had an overprotective streak, the result of his own past trauma. It hadn’t been until she’d grown older and lived a life outside of the protective watch of her parents that she truly began to understand her father’s warnings.

But the man standing before her now isn’t her father -- not yet, anyway. His concern for her isn’t paternal, but it’s still there. As starved as she had been for his attention the previous night, she’s grateful for whatever care he can muster -- even if the delivery lacks his normal affection. At least this way she can pretend that the man before her is the Killian Jones she knows and loves.

She’s happy when she finally doesn’t have to lie. “Nothing happened. I promise.”

He smiles, the relief evident. “Good.”

 -/-

 “So...what do you think of Neverland?”

Small talk has always been an enigma for Gideon. While working with patients, it comes naturally to him. He thinks it’s because he can hide behind the mask of the white coat, and that small talk helps his patients -- especially the kids -- relax. In social situations, however, he finds himself at a loss for words, stumbling over the dumbest of questions.

Like asking his brother what he thinks of the hell hole that is Neverland.

But he has his reasons. Kind of. When Gideon had been younger, he’d asked his father about Neverland and Peter Pan. The concept of an island where no one ever ages had been appealing to him as a child. Truly, it sounded like an awfully big adventure. That had been the moment Gideon first learned that his grandfather was Peter Pan. His parents -- because his father, understandably, felt this was a story best told with his mother present -- had given him the sanitized version of the truth behind Neverland and Peter Pan. Henry and, later, Juliet’s father had given him the unsanitized version. Over the years, he had wondered what his brother’s adventures entailed, and now that Neal is here, Gideon has the opportunity to ask….even if it feels like a stupid question.

It probably is a stupid question, but it feels safe. The novelty of actually getting to know his brother hasn’t fully sunken in, not in the way that matters. Part of him feels as if he’s wasting the moment. Another part of him still wants to run away back to camp. The part of him that recognizes his running back empty-handed would be suspicious keeps him in place.

“I think I wasted way too much of my life here. So, it sucks.” Neal looks over his shoulder. “Please tell me you didn’t ask me to go get water with you so we could discuss Neverland.”

“Um, not really, no.” Gideon looks down at the ground, cheeks flushing red. He takes note of the vines and roots, making certain to not also trip. “J thought it would be good for us to have the chance to talk. You know, without others.”

“So your girlfriend made you drag me out here.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Realizing how terrible that sounds, he continues, “It’s not that I didn’t want to without her pushing things along, it’s just a lot. It’s weird.”

“Because I’m dead in the future.”  He can’t see Neal’s face. His brother is continuing to push forward toward some pond -- they do have to come back with water, after all. But, Gideon can see the tenseness in his shoulders and hear the heaviness in Neal’s voice. It reminds him of his patients, the ones who had been given the worst medical news. And, in a way, Juliet had handed Neal his own death sentence.

“Something like that.” Gideon takes a deep breath. “I mean, have you ever spent your whole life wondering about someone, having all of these questions, and knowing you might never get answers? And now, suddenly, you an get answers and it feels...daunting.”

There’s a long pause before Neal answers. “Yeah, I get that. Guess it’d be like that if I met my mom again.”

Gideon winces at Neal’s response. “So you meant what you said back at camp? About your secret at Echo Cave?”

“Something like that,” Neal parrots. He stops then, and turns to Gideon. Looking him in the eye, he says, “Just so you know, I was making that stuff up about what I said about your girlfriend. She never said anything about moving too fast.”

“Uh, yeah, I know.”

“You didn’t act like it.”

“I thought it would blow our cover if I was too blase about it.” He shrugs, even though Neal doesn’t appear entirely convinced. “But thanks for your quick thinking. That was helpful.”

“I couldn’t exactly say your girlfriend said you were both from the future,” Neal replies. His expression then turns curious. “Speaking of covers, please tell me your name isn’t actually Romeo. I know Belle loves books, but --”

“It’s not. Just the first thing that came to mind.” Gideon refrains from mentioning that he’s half-convinced that he and Juliet are some incarnation of Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers. Henry had mentioned once that Shakespeare had been an Author. “My name is actually Gideon.”

“Gideon Gold, huh?”

“Not all of us can be named Baelfire.” Neal barks out a laugh, and for a moment, Gideon feels a surge of pride. He’s able to make his brother laugh. “Mom’s the one who named me -- after a character from a book -- so you got that part right.”

“And about Belle, apparently.” There’s a twinkle in Neal’s eyes, and Gideon’s stomach immediately drops. He’s struck by how easy Neal had been able to weasel information about the future out of him. Sensing his panic, Neal raises his hands in supplication. “Hey, that part I had figured out since your girlfriend said you were my brother. The way my -- our -- father is with Belle, it wasn’t hard to put two-and-two together. Besides, you look a bit like her.”

Gideon breathes a sigh of relief. “Father says that’s a good thing.”

“Better to inherit her looks than the crocodile skin,” Neal says with a small laugh. “Look, we still need to get water. How about on the way, we talk about normal sibling things -- things that aren’t full of spoilers about the immediate future, so you can stop having a panic attack every time something comes up.”

Gideon cracks a smile.  “Sounds like a plan.”

As they make their way toward the pond, Gideon and Neal trade questions. They start with small questions -- favorite colors, foods, and books -- but quickly the questions grow a bit deeper. Neal listens intently as Gideon shares horror stories from his medical residency and explains his motivations for choosing the medical profession. Neal, in turns, opens about about starting over in the Land Without Magic. By the time they reach the pond, they’re trading stories about living in New York.

“I don’t know if it comforts me to know that the subway system is still a mess that far in the future,” Neal says, dismay evident from his tone to his face after Gideon recounts nearly missing his test in undergrad because he had been trapped in a stalled train.

“Look at it this way, the more things the change, the more they also stay the same. You can count on it like death and taxes.” Gideon immediately regrets his choice of words. I am an idiot.

“Some of us can count on death more easily than others.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out about that. I can’t imagine it’s easy knowing.”  Gideon fills his skein with water. “Juliet wouldn’t have told you if she didn’t have to. I’m pretty sure she feels bad about that.”

Neal scoffs. “Pretty sure?”

“We didn’t exactly have much time to discuss her specific feelings on the matter.” There’s something in Neal’s tone that sets Gideon on edge, but he doesn’t let it show.

“From where I was sitting, she didn’t seem to like me too much.”

“She hardly knows you. Besides, she told me that she didn’t think you were the worst. She even called you charming,” Gideon answers. He feels the need to defend Juliet, even though Neal hasn’t said anything completely off-base.

“She completely blew her gasket when I kissed Emma,” Neal says, and this time Gideon recognizes that his older brother is now hedging for clues about the future.

“I think that’s an extreme read of the situation,” Gideon sighs deeply. He had known this area of conversation was unavoidable, insofar that Juliet had requested that he do whatever possible to discourage Neal from pursuing Emma. Gideon knows he needs to do this, but he hesitates. His conversation with his brother had been going so well, and now he’s going to ruin it all.

“You know, for a brief moment, I thought she was my kid. Once I found out she was from the future, I thought that might be the reason she seemed so mad at me in the cave. I died and left her, and there was some lingering  resentment, and I hoped...” Neal rubs the back of his neck, and looks skyward. “Anyway, then she said you were my brother, and that killed that dream.”

“We’re not the Lannisters.” Their respective family trees might be convoluted, but they’re not blood related. Gideon shudders at the thought. Still...he can’t quite blame Neal from going down that mental path. Knowing his feelings for Emma, it only makes sense.

“Yeah, I hoped not,” Neal says with a broken sort of laugh. “But she’s related to Emma, right? She said her family was here, and she looks a lot like Emma.”

“I think we’re getting into spoiler territory.”

“You know that’s basically confirming my suspicions, right?” Neal kicks a rock into the water. He doesn’t look at Gideon, and for that Gideon is grateful. “So what is she, like her sister? It seems pretty obvious Snow and Charming might want another kid. They don’t strike me as a one-and-done kind of pair.”

They’re not, Gideon thinks. They have another son. They named him after you. He’s a police officer, and lives in Storybrooke with his husband, and they’re in the process of adopting twins. Of course, he can’t tell Neal any of that.

“Listen, Neal…” Gideon comes up short with what to say. He settles on, “You already know a lot about the future.”

“I’m honestly a little surprised the others haven’t noticed the resemblance.”

“They’re not looking for one. People see what they want to see.” Like how you think she’s Emma’s sister. He’d been worried about it, at first, believing that someone might note the similarities in appearance. No one has, and if they’ve thought about it, they’ve held their tongues. They don’t see them as Gideon Gold and Juliet Jones, but rather Romeo and Juliet from far off Verona. Juliet is just another pretty blonde in a sea of pretty blondes, just like how he’s another guy. They’re not looking for family resemblances in the way that Neal is.

“Why’d she not want me kissing Emma anyway?”

“Because you and her didn’t happen back then, er, now. And we’ve changed enough already. We don’t want to wreck the timeline even more than we already have,” Gideon explains slowly. He wonders if this is what Neal had really be trying to get at when he started asking about Juliet. “So you can’t do that anymore. Kiss Emma, I mean.”

Goal: accomplished.

“How can you even know that?”

Or not.

“You know how Henry has his fairytale book with everyone’s stories? There’s another book in the future where that includes this whole adventure, and a ton of stories that happened since Emma first arrive in Storybrooke,” Gideon huffs out. His frustration is growing. Why can’t Neal understand? He feels like a villain, crushing the heart of his victim. “And you and Emma? You’re not in it, at least not as lovers, not since first left her way back when.”

“You love you girlfriend?”

“What?” This is not the direction Gideon had expected the conversation to go. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s a yes or no question. Do you love her?” Neal is once again facing him. Gideon takes in the hard set of his brother’s shoulders, the way his arms are crossed, and his knitted brows. Neal will not back down from this train of thought.

“Of course I love her.”

“How much?

“Really?”

“Humor me.”

Gideon casts his eyes skyward. This is not how he expected to be discussing his love life with his deceased brother. “I have a ring. Back home. I’m planning to propose soon. Going by that, I love her quite a bit.” He pauses, thinking of an earlier conversation. “She’s all my heart.”

Neal’s expression momentarily softens. “Wow, congrats. I hope she says yes.”

“Unsurprisingly, so do I.” He’s fairly certain that she will say ‘yes’. Their friends seem convinced of that fact. Her family, too. The aforementioned Neal Nolan, who acts more like Juliet’s closest friend and confidant than uncle, has even made Gideon promise to run by any proposal plans. “She’s going to agree to it no matter what, but you want the whole thing to be something she’ll remember, right?”

“Okay, so you have this girl--”

“--woman--”

“--woman, fine, you get the point. You have this woman that you love. Now imagine finding out you’re going to die, that you’re going to lose absolutely everything, and you don’t know when or how, but it’s definitely going to happen -- and soon, by the sound of things. You can’t tell me that you won’t do everything possible to hold onto the person you love,” Neal pleads with him. And, in a way, he’s right. If the world ended tomorrow, he’d want nothing more than to spend it with Juliet in his arms. But--

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Gideon doesn’t even try to hide the defeat in his voice. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation. What he wants is for Neal to not even pursue Emma, for them to just act like brothers-- whatever that means. What he wants for the weight of the future to be lifted from both their shoulders. What he wants it to not be the bad guy. He can’t always get what he wants. “Neal, I understand the future is terrifying, and I know you’re probably thinking about every single thing you regret--”

“You know? I don’t think you have any idea how I feel! I’m going to die, and you have a future with your girlfriend to run back to!”

“A future that might not even exist,” Gideon argues, his voice rising. He runs his fingers through his hair and takes a step back. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it. We didn’t even want to be here. We fell through a goddamn portal. J and I, we didn’t even try to, and we fucked things up. Things are bad right now, universe ending bad. So, while I might be sympathetic to your plight -- it fucking sucks -- it’s not high on my priority list.”

Neal blinks, clearly taken aback by Gideon’s outburst. “What are you even talking about?”

“Things that were supposed to happen didn’t end up happening, which set off a domino effect of preventing other things from happening, and we don’t know how to fix it.” His answer comes out in a half-sob, the weight of everything at stake finally taking over.

“Could what you did hurt Henry? Emma?”

“Definitely.”

“Then tell me how I can help.” Neal walks over and places his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “If Emma and Henry’s future is really in danger, tell me what you two messed up, and I will help fix it.”

Gideon shakes his head. “We can’t. We already told you too much.”

“Look, I already know too much, and I’m a dead guy walking. And by the sound of things, you two are completely in over your head. You need help,” Neal insists. “You know I’m right.”

Gideon considers Neal’s offer. They need help. Desperately. But, “You’re not going to like what we have to do.”

“I kind of already figured that part out.”

Gideon suddenly wishes desperately for Hook’s flask of rum. Juliet is going to kill him. But, if they pull this off, she’ll still exist. That will be something worth celebrating, assuming Neal doesn’t kill him because of the words that come out of his mouth next.

“We need to get Emma and Hook to kiss.” Neal recoils as if Gideon had just burned him. “What.” It’s not a question.

“We need to find a way for Hook and Emma to kiss. They had their first kiss in Neverland, you see, and I know for a fact that the events that led to that kiss didn’t happen, which means that they likely didn’t kiss.” His explanation feels silly, because a kiss feel simple, not monumental. But it’s the first kiss in a series of many more kisses, that will ultimately lead to a fuller and happier life.

“I don’t get it. You’re worked up over them kissing? Wait--first kiss? How many times do they kiss?”

“It’s never crossed my mind to keep count.” Now, that’s a train of thought I don’t need to follow.  Gideon shakes his head, he needs to focus. As expected, Neal isn’t handling the information well. “As for the ‘getting worked up over them kissing’ part, that kiss kind of sets up a chain of very important events. It’s a domino effect.”

“He ran away with my mom, and now he’s kissing the mother of my son. That’s a little messed up, don’t you think?”

“I told you that you wouldn’t like what we had to do.”

“I can’t...I don’t understand how that kiss helps keep Emma and Henry safe.” Neal looks utterly defeated. Gideon wonders how he would feel if someone said that Juliet absolutely needed to be kissing someone else. He decides not to dwell on the thought.

“Like I said, it’s a domino effect. I can’t fully quantify it, but trust me when I say that their futures as I know it depend on this kiss. My future own depends on this kiss.”

“Your future? How--” He stops, eyes widening in realization. He shakes his head. “No, no, no, no.”

Gideon doesn’t know what to say, so he keeps his mouth shut. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mother would know what to say -- she’s the most empathetic person he knows. He’d inherited Belle’s love of books, but not this. For as long as he’s known her, she’s always found a way to bond and sympathize with strangers. Blood relations or not, Neal is still a stranger to Gideon, making it all the harder.

“God, and I thought she was mine and Emma’s kid. Guess I was half right, huh?” Neal turns away from Gideon, and kicks angrily at a ground. “Seriously? Her and him?”

“If it makes you feel better, they’re very happy together.”

“It doesn’t.”

Gideon bites his lip. Unsure of what else to say on the topic of the Swan-Jones relationship, he attempts a different tactic. “He would talk about you to me. Hook, I mean, in the future. Even before Juliet and I were together, we’d talk about you and he’d tell me stories.”

“To ease his guilty conscience,” Neal snorts.

“Maybe, but not in the way you think,” Gideon tells him. It’s strange to defend Juliet’s father to his brother. He recognizes the reasons why Neal resents them, but the Killian Jones Gideon knows is so far removed from one Neal knows, knew. “He told me once that one of his biggest regrets in life was what happened between you and him and Pan. I’m pretty sure he and our father have talked about you, but I’m pretty sure they’d both deny it if anyone asked.”

“Gideon, I’m glad you like your girlfriend’s father,” Neal begins, and Gideon realizes this is the first time he has said his realization aloud, “but Killian Jones is the last person I want in this scenario. He destroyed my family, and you’re asking me to help make sure he raises my son with the woman I love while I...while I’m dead.”

“Then don’t do it for him. Do it for me, your brother. Do it for Juliet, who has no control over who her parents are.” Gideon grabs Neal’s arm, forcing Neal to finally look him in the eyes. “You’re hurt and you’re angry, and that’s a perfectly understandable way to feel. But don’t let your feelings result in either me or Juliet getting harmed. I spent my entire life wondering who you were, don’t let it be this.That’s not fair. Hook, Henry, Emma -- they all told me that you were a hero. So prove it. Be a hero.”

“Just--can you give me a moment, please?” Neal asks, his anger giving way to something that sounds a lot like defeat. “Let me think. You owe me that.”

Gideon opens his mouth to argue that he doesn’t owe Neal anything right now, but he finds himself saying, “Yeah, we can wait.”

Neal moves away, sitting at the edge of the pond. Gideon hesitates before joining him. Silently, they sit and stare at the water. Moonlight cuts through the dense foliage of the jungle, creating slivers of light on the water. It’s beautiful, Gideon thinks. Years earlier, he and Juliet had rented a cabin upstate. The cabin was by the lake, and he remembers the two of them sitting laying on the bank, looking up the stars. They’d discussed their hopes and dreams, and began to tentatively make plans for the future they might have together. Sitting beside his brother, Gideon wonders if that future might ever come to pass.